Journal Day 2: To Coutts and Back Again
Monday, September 11, 2006
If you’ll notice the “title” of this particular journal entry you’ll notice that it doesn’t leave much to the imagination. But we’ll take care of the mundane details first.
We had planned to get up really early and head straight to the US border but Alan had to make a trip to the bank which required a teller. So, we slept in a bit (if you call it sleeping in when you wake up at 6:30 during your “vacation”), and drove Gillian to her first day of classes.
We managed to find a Starbucks and a gas station and were at the bank at 9:15, fifteen minutes before it opened. We enjoyed our coffees and tried to the read the tattoo on the arm of a man in the truck next to us. Turns out it was “William” written in fancy old letters from elbow to wrist.
We were on the road south by 9:45 and at the USA/Canada border by 10:45 or so. By this point my stomach was in knots. We get past the first border guard no problem. He took our passports and waved us around to the parking lot to go apply for my Visa. So far so good. Once in the office we’re helped almost immediately by a relatively friendly looking individual. By this point I’ve already made mental notes of which Border Patrol guards I don’t want to have helping me based on their appearance alone. Some of them are kinda scary. They all look like ex-marines, right down to the shaved heads and guns at their waists. Yeah! Such a comforting thought.
So he asks me a question, only one.
“What status are you applying for?”
The one question I didn’t have a good answer for.
“Ummm… nonimmigrant… . Alien? I don’t know. Yeah, nonimmigrant worker”.
So he asks us to take a seat and he’ll be with us in a few moments. Turns out that a few moments are twenty minutes at the Border so I’ve pulled out my crossword and I’m just trying to relax. When the officer calls me into an office I know that he’s got bad news. So, I bravely tell Alan I can handle it on my own and head into the office to face this guy alone. He tells me that I don’t have all my paperwork. Yes, I have two copies of my I-129 Form and two copies of my L1B Visa form but I need two, original, copies of all the documents, not just those two forms. And, I need proof that I worked at Stantec for a full year, not on contract but as a full time employee. Bah… alright. Well, not alright, but that’s what I told the guy. I also said I had to kick someone’s ass in Edmonton ‘cuz someone screwed up. He smiled, said he’d do the same thing, and sent me on my way. What a nice guy… didn’t pull a gun on me or anything for having the wrong answers.
So, I leave the office, a little dismayed that I now have to go BACK to Lethbridge and wait over night for Edmonton to ship the papers down to me. But, while my blood is pounding with a little bit of suppressed rage, my heart skips a beat because I realize that Alan is gone. Not only is Alan gone but there’s an alarm going off and all of a sudden the whole office, except one woman, empties out and the border guards start running off towards another smaller building with their guns drawn. Oh my god. What has Alan done? And is he going to get shot?
Then, another alarm goes off on a computer next to me at the application desk. So, a guard comes running back. He looked at the computer, rolled his eyes, and went on to other business. Apparently whatever was so scary that required twenty men to go running with guns ablazing wasn’t nearly as dire a situation as they thought. I never did find out what happened but it all died down pretty quickly.
However, still no Alan that I can see. Son of a… and I don’t even have a cell phone to call him from because I gave it to mum. Double “Son of a… ” So I go stand in the “lobby” (which here means the space between two sets of glass doors which only had doors to the bathrooms, which are both locked, by the way) to see if he’s in the bathroom. A man comes out. I say:
“Was there another guy in there?”
“Yes” he says.
“Was he young?”
“I don’t know”, he says “He was behind the stall”.
Right… of course he is. Well, Alan emerged a few minutes later so everything was fine. He wasn’t shot. Just had to pee.
So, we’re now on our way back to Lethbridge to wait for all of the paperwork to come through, again. Then we can make the same exciting trip back to Coutts tomorrow. See pictures below for ideas of how “exciting” Coutts, Alberta really is. We stopped for lunch before heading back to Lethbridge.
Water tower has a happy face on it.
"Ross's Restuarant and Lounge"
See even the salt is bored enough to defy gravity for something fun to do.
We’ve just pulled into Coaldale, Alberta, to see if we can’t find the “Birds of Prey” museum we saw advertised on the highway. If we find it, I’m sure they’ll be a great story about it too. But mostly, we’re still in Alberta. Not the USA. Bugger all. Thus proving that one can’t have her cake and eat it too!
Whether someone’s been proposed to or not.
Later on Monday
We managed to find the Bird’s of Prey museum. Almost drove past it because from the front it doesn’t look like much but once inside… WOW!
The birds all have out door “cages” which look like half a shed so that they have some shade in the heat of the day. We saw Hawks, Owls, and a bald Eagle that had a very high pitched shriek, nothing like we expected it to sound like. It “yelled” at Alan for taking his picture. Rather temperamental bird if you ask me. Ironic that it’s the American bird?! I think not…
Some of the smaller owls sound like rattler snakes as a means of defense against other predators, and we didn’t hear a typical “hoot” out of any of them, though we did find the ones that would should they decide to vocalize. But, if you don’t sound scary, at least try to scare your predators with “THE STINK EYE!!!”
We were the only two in the museum, which is mostly outdoors and a photographer hunted us down halfway through the tour to tell us that the “curator” was going to fly a red tailed hawk and would we like to see it? For sure! So we got to chat one on one with the trainer about how and why they fly the birds, how much they eat, weigh, and how good their eye sight is. Imagine looking through a pair of binoculars from our Stantec office and seeing the color of the blouse of a woman on the 30th floor of Bankers Hall. That’s how good their eye sight is. Unbelievable.
After the flying of the hawk we strolled back towards some more owl exhibits and were about to amble on towards the indoor portion of the museum when we were chased by a pack of ducks. Literally. They all started quacking and coming at us. We backed on to the little wooden bridge only to be followed, single file, by a dozen quacking ducks. One in particular was rather bold and actually ran towards me, quacking.
I kind of cowered. I know, I’m a wuss, but angry ducks are kind of scary. Turns out, they weren’t angry. They were hungry. You can feed the ducks if you buy the pellets at the museum. Guess we missed that because they associate people with food. But it was good for a chuckle.
Then the coolest thing happened. We got to hold a 6 month old burrowing owl. I was giddy. The leather glove that one has to wear on their hand/arm is heavier than the bird so when the trainer put the bird on my hand I couldn’t even feel it. He just kind of stared and yelled at me. But in a cute way. I swear. When Alan was allowed to hold him it tried to take off. Apparently their lift is amazingly strong compared to what they don’t appear to weight when on your hand. All in all, it got some great smiles from the two of us and an experience we won’t soon forget.
We arrived back home at Gillian’s place around 3:30 and I promptly took off to the bedroom for a much needed nap. The nerves I had built up about crossing the border, followed by the let down of actually not being allowed to cross had taken its toll and I just needed to rest. Alan stayed upstairs and watched TV with the girls. Once Brad, Gillian’s boyfriend, arrived, they decided it was time to wake me up so we could go out to dinner. I think they almost drew straws on who had to wake me. I guess I’m not as charming as I think I am when I first wake up.
We took off for beer and wings at the Blarney Stone, watched some football (no idea who played… I think they were American games though), and then headed home for an early night. Tomorrow, we ride for Coutts… again.
posted by Meg @ 11:05 PM
2 Comments:
boy, when you make a post, you don't fool around!
It was a little odd that you went from saying you had to go back and yell at someone for not having your papers, to saying you then went to find the birds of prey museum... I just had to take for granted that the yelling occurred.
Yelling is good for a story, you shouldve included it :)
Incidentally, the current thing on my blog is about going across the border too, but i didnt really get into that part of it.
Truth be told, I didn't yell. I 'spoke sternly' to an individual who could help me. The orignal dude who put together the incorrect paperwork never got back in touch with me. Stupid Edmontonian! Yeah... that's just for you James!
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