"YEAH, YOU'D THINK."

I don't even know where to start because a lot has happened but also nothing has happened at all. This is my first entry for all of June because, like I said, nothing has really happened worth noting.

Czech bureaucracy has worn me down to the point of tears. The immigration and employment processes seemed fairly streamlined and straightforward when viewed on a website. But when you're having to go from one brutalist building to another to ensure the concrete ship is being ran tightly while being forced to hand over the wheel to someone else, it can become extremely discouraging. 

To be more specific, I'm having to do a lot of the work myself. You might be thinking "oh poor you, Liz. You LIVE in Europe, how can that be so complicated and exhausting?" Because I can't trust anything anyone tells me. Usually when you speak with someone directly from the government, you have some some faith that you're being told an official, correct answer. Between the information I get from the Ministry of Interior, my new job, their respective websites, and the faceless person who may or may not communicate effectively with me via email, something is always left out, I receive four different answers to the same question, or I get information too late that would have been much helpful at an earlier point. As a result, this poorly oiled stroj has made any attempt at planning ahead, organizing a schedule, or getting any kind of clear answer to do so next to impossible. 

Here's a "quick" timeline of 2018 so far:

January 27:

Got hired at new job pretty much immediately. Woohoo! This means applying for an employee card, a two year "visa" that allows me to legally work for a business in the Czech Republic as opposed to using my trade license and a long-stay visa through a term of one year.

January 27 through March 27:

Gather certified documents, translations, and degrees to apply for employee card. I find out my start date at work is April 23.

March 23:

I give notice at my teaching job as I must notify my employer more than 60 days out if I have the intention of leaving my position.

April 9:

Apply for employee card at Ministry of Interior. I'm told this process should take six weeks. I pay an administration fee of 1500 crowns but I have to use government issued stamps as, I quote, "bribes are still a problem here."

April 23:

I'm pushed back at my job until May 14 as my employee card is still processing. I get a letter from the Ministry of Interior saying I need to come in with a certified Czech translator for an interview on May 10.

May 10:

My interview with the Ministry of Interior is centered around me switching from my trade license to an employee card. A ton of questions ensue about my assets in the Czech Republic, how I spend my time freelancing, why I will no longer be teaching at an accredited institution, and why I applied for the job. 90 minutes later, they tell me I could be approved as soon as Monday or by the end of the following week.

May 11:

My last day at my teaching job. I quit at this time because I was under the impression I would be working that Monday.

May 14:

I'm not approved and my start date at my job is pushed back to June 11. 

May 17:

Receive a phone call from the Ministry of Interior my application for an employee card was approved. I'm told I'll receive an official copy in the mail within ten days so I can formally confirm with my employer. I am given a date, June 27, to come into the Ministry of Interior for biometric data to be included on my employee card, 13 days after my supposed start date. The person who calls me tells me I can start work even if I don't have the card in hand.

May 22:

Because my employer wants to conduct a medical check, as in an exam making sure I can actually do the job I was hired to do, I meet with a doctor who doesn't know me. He determines that because I have Type 1 diabetes, I might be a risky hire. I'm given a test tube to pee into as I have to provide my own sample (or anyone's) and meet with another doctor assigned to my employer on May 24. 

May 24:

The second doctor doesn't ask for my urine sample. I record this conversation as I have now learned I can't trust what anyone tells me. She agrees that I might be a risky hire because I have Type 1 as well as depression. My case is sent over to a board of directors in Prague to review and my endocrinologist is called to confirm my diabetes is being successfully managed and I have zero complications as a result. She doesn't ask for my urine test and I then realize I basically could have lied about the whole thing because no one was going to bother to check or follow up with me. She then stammers with me for ten minutes while I ask her what is it exactly about my disease that prevents me from working my job. I leave with no answer.

June 1:

My medical check is approved but I haven't received any information in the mail that I can show my employer I can start work on June 11. 

June 11:

I don't start my job. Turns out I can't work unless I have the actual card printed and in my hand.

June 12:

My employer pushes me back until July 23. My employer tells me there might be a possibility I can start on July 16, but no one confirms this. 

June 27:

I go to the Ministry of Interior to get my picture taken and get fingerprinted for my employee card. I am told I can pick up the card on Tuesday, July 17. I notify my employer my card will be ready to pick up on said date.

June 28:

My employer tells me I can start on July 16, but they can't tell me if I can work without the physical card in hand or if I am able to take time in the middle of the following day to pick up the card. I sit in bed and write this post. As of yesterday, this has now taken six months.

The Czech Republic is a weird place. In some areas you'd think it would be incredibly advanced but in other areas, it doesn't add up. The main example I use is with our debit cards. Across CZ we can use a "contactless card," meaning I no longer have to swipe it and I can just tap the card on a receiver and my purchase goes through. Not a lot of banks have instituted this technology in the United States so it's kind of a one up. 

However, the main branch of my bank is in central Brno, and if I want to take money out or deposit money, I have to pick a number like it's the fucking DMV and wait until I'm called to then tell a real person how much money I want to deposit or withdraw. So the technology is great...but the automated system overall is not updated or consistent.

The major thing I have learned in the past nine months since I've been here is that expecting all of the bureaucracy to go seamlessly is ridiculous. The first tip I should have noticed this at is that for me to apply for a visa in the Czech Republic, I had to go to Berlin, Warsaw, Vienna, or Bratislava. I had to leave the country to apply to stay in the country which I came from. I thought it would be...easy.

Not only has the process been long, annoying, and every level of frustrating, it's been emotionally taxing. Because of the delays in my job, I had to back out of Edinburgh Fringe as I thought I'd be able to take time off in August if I had started on time. I lost my deposit I put towards a bed in a shared flat and my flight didn't get refunded. Overall I lost about $500 on this, money I could have put towards a deposit on a new flat or used for airfare to fly home and visit. There were times where I thought I could have gone home for a week, but because I couldn't trust any of the information being told to me, I couldn't risk being out of the country during a time where something might change...again. This process has affected my stand up, my family time, my creative drive, and my determination to be a real person.

My main "character defect" is patience, as AA told me. I don't have it. I don't know what to do with it when I do have it. I absolutely hate not having the answers to questions I have. My dad told me a story a few weeks ago where he was watching me when I was about age 2. He took these magnetic alphabet letters we had off the fridge and put them in front of me to spell different basic words. My dad would put the word out in front of me and say "cat!" while he'd point to Jake or Elwood, named after the Blues Brothers. I picked it up fairly quickly, but once the letters were scrambled, I didn't do well. He put the word "cat" with the letters out of order in front of me. I was getting agitated because I knew all the letters were there but I didn't know what to do to make it say "cat." I became inconsolable, crying and saddened, a two-year-old only wanting the answer that couldn't be given to me.

I've been too depressed and angry to write this post and part of me didn't want to let everyone know how I was doing. A lot of the complications are hard to explain to someone who hasn't gone through it themselves. For six months I've been trying to create some semblance of a schedule or routine, but I haven't had that. I sleep from 3am until 3pm. I've watched a lot of sitcoms and my YouTube history is full of conspiracy-related time holes. I try to do one thing a day, whether that's a load of laundry or checking. I cried myself to sleep last night because I really don't want that much: I just want my tiny apartment, my cat, and my job. 

I've been looking at other flats because the one I'm in now is excessive and I'm paying for a lot of space I don't use. I went to look at a place in a panelak, a panel style building constructed in the former Czechoslovakia, and I fell in love with it. On the top floor with no one living above me, the windows looked out over the hillsides and industry of the city. I had a deck with windows that could be pulled aside in the summer for fresh air. The bathroom was brightly lit and there was sample storage space for the items I don't have. The kitchen was pristine but not sterile. With two major tram lines and five major bus routes at the bottom of the building, I'd have easy access to the job I have yet to work and the rest of the city, but being up thirteen stories, you couldn't hear anything and it was reassuringly quiet.

The weather has been cold and 50ish. It rained all night so when my hometown weather is upon me, I use it as an excuse to not go out. "Well at least I'm not spending any money!" I think to myself as I restart Brooklyn 99 and eat a tortilla for dinner. I cried myself to sleep last night because I honestly thought it wouldn't be this hard. I've put in the effort, made appointments, showed up on time, filled out the right forms, certified and translated all my documents correctly, followed up with phone calls and emails, and I still feel like I failed. Why is it that the Czech system is so backwards but I'm the one who feels like she failed? I don't want to sit here and be like "Yeah man the system, man...it's just the system out to get us" but really I don't think people realize how much easier these processes could be. I'm definitely spoiled coming from the US, but you'd think some changes would be implemented given that so many immigrants and foreigners are going through these exact same steps just to get a well paying job in a different country on a daily basis. At what point is it not worth it anymore?

And the worst part of all of this: the United States is so fucked up right now, I feel like I can't go home, even if I wanted to. Do I try to do best with the cards given to me in CZ or do I risk not having access to certain human facets at home? Do I have a home right now? I feel like I can't go home. 

A lot of this is me simply rambling but I'm realizing it's a pretty accurate example of the state I'm currently in: I'm lost with no organized timeline and I can't trust anyone. 

Red Pill vs. Blue Pill

Woo! My visa has been approved! 

With a long stay visa, I'll be legal to work in the Czech Republic for the next year. I have a few more bureaucratic things to take care of in regards to getting paid, but the waiting and the hard part is over. A year from now, I'll need to reapply for two years after I prove I'm able to support myself being independently employed with my trade license. The schools I currently work for allow me to teach as a contractor, meaning I'm responsible for my own taxes, health insurance, and future visa processes. 

It's a huge relief. I've heard these horror stories of messy visa applications with different contracts and the length of stay available to expats and so far I've done my best to avoid that. One of the complicated things about visas is that no one situation applies to everyone. While I was doing research before I left the US, I was getting an insane amount of misinformation from people who assumed I was from the EU or that I was already a Czech resident but not a Czech citizen. CZ separates expats and their rights by where they come from. For instance, members from the EU, people from the UK, Americans, Australians, Canadians, and other citizens labeled "third country nationals" all require a different visa process to apply for residency or for work. My dear friend KD swooped in during June of last year to alert me to her existing troubles as an American abroad. She highlighted details given to me that were incorrect and struggles she encountered both in CZ and abroad to steer me in the right direction. I'm infinitely thankful for her and I couldn't have completed this exodus without her. She's also been extremely real with me in that she explains things about Czech bureaucracy with no sugar coating. I'd rather someone be up front with me and be brutally honest than leave me in the dark to figure out these processes on my own. The truth can hurt, but it makes for good progress in the future. 

Prior to receiving the email regarding my visa approval, I went to my first therapy appointment since October. I had done some research about who to contact before leaving the United States but hadn't bothered to contact anyone until about two weeks ago. Therapists generally don't take health insurance in CZ and just do a flat rate for one hour, which alleviated me trying to find someone who takes my non-existent insurance but won't break my back. In USD, prices average out to about $20/hr. In the past, my therapists have been anywhere from included in the cost of my health insurance or their rates were north of $130/hr. There also seems to be a sliding scale with bilingual therapists where the cost is lower in Czech but a few more crowns if you require an English speaker. 

Bretislav is a mix of Hopper from Stranger Things and a Czech version of Dr. Frasier Crane. I had seen his picture online when I was looking for therapy options in 2017 and like a lot of comedians I know, they look incredibly different from the professional headshot they've loosely been relying upon for a number of years. He listed his credentials and his areas of expertise, which is important when seeking out therapy. Two years ago I had made the mistake of going to therapy with someone who wasn't keyed in about addiction, the recommended treatment involved, and the after effects of staying sober. I ended up having to explain a lot of facets of AA and how the recovery system works, which was fine, but needing to contextualize addiction within my anxiety and depression proved to be fairly difficult. I was relieved to see Bretislav specialized in all three areas. 

We emailed back and forth about finding a time to meet and I met him at his office. His entire workspace was larger than my last apartment in Seattle. Fifteen foot high ceilings (or roughly four meters?) and tall windows allowed for a lot of natural light to be complemented by bright hardwood floors and off-white walls. He had two IKEA swivel accent chairs facing each other with a coffee table separating them. Books in Czech and English and plants I assumed were fake decorated his bookcases. After seeing the entire arrangement, I went into design mode and mentally reorganized his space with my belongings to my liking. The space would photograph well. 

Bretislav sat across from me with a pen and a legal pad. I've been trying to figure out where the fuck to get yellow legal pads in Brno since I've arrived but I was determined not to be distracted during our first meeting. He asked me a few basic questions and explained that there are some complexities in the English language he may not understand so there's a chance I'll need to clarify on occasion. I've had to do this a lot in CZ since I've arrived and doing it for the person treating me for my emotional free-for-alls didn't seem like too much to ask since he'll need to understand me on multiple levels. I talked about where my issues stemmed from: my parents' divorce, dating men I shouldn't as a result, alcoholism, mentally taxing diabetes care, feelings of inadequacy, running away from my problems and my severe fight or flight instinct, and the general idea that I am not enough and I never have been. Of course a lot of these things are going to take longer than 50 minutes to delve into, especially when talking at half the speed I normally talk to ensure no one is lost in translation. 

Because it had been so long since I've spoken to an impartial party, it became overwhelming to not leave out any details about why I scheduled an appointment. I wanted Bretislav to know everything immediately so he could stamp a diagnosis on me or lend me resources to curb the things I've been told are wrong with me, my faults, criticisms, and critiques. I explained how a recent text from an ex-boyfriend threw me for a loop of would have/could have/should have hypotheticals and how it has led me to second guess a decision my mom once deemed "dramatic." From what I understand, a lot of expats experience this phenomenon. Moving abroad is easily the biggest decision we've ever made, maybe behind on deciding which university to attend or other life struggles I'm unaware of. We start to examine all of the different paths our lives have taken, what prompted us to pack up everything important, sell whatever wasn't important, and uproot ourselves from the life of familiarity we no longer desired. 

But this wasn't just a "well maybe if I wasn't so irrational, we'd be married" situation. This was a "maybe I should have continued my studies in Art History and applied for graduate school abroad" situation or a "maybe I should have picked a profitable major and ignored all of my creative impulses so I'd be rich but boring" possibility. It wasn't the text I received at 4am; it was all of these paths culminating into a Czech nexus of uncertainty. I'm happy I'm here and I'm happy I made the decision to move. It feels selfish from time to time, but ultimately the path I'm on right now seems to outweigh all of the others, and the part that bothers me the most is never knowing what could have happened if I took a different path, leading me to feel guilty and ashamed.

I tried to explain all of this to Bretislav in the five minutes remaining in our appointment and he politely reminded me that if I decide to move forward with his services, we'll have plenty of time to discuss the events and neuroses which make me a human being. After all, whatever has happened will stay that way. Things that have happened to me can't erase themselves no matter which country I run to. Sometimes I wonder if I didn't move east enough. Instead of being nine hours ahead of Seattle, I should be 14 hours ahead and living in a yurt with a dirt floor and a couple who does all of their hunting with a trained eagle out on a vast steppe. But choosing to live in a yurt means little to zero access to insulin, so here we are in Brno.

It's been an emotional week. Now that my visa is done, I can acquire Czech public health insurance. I used my credit card for the first time since I've been here to pay for medication for the next four months - $130 for a four month supply of Cymbalta and Wellbutrin with no insurance. In the US, a 30 day supply of Cymbalta alone is $260 without insurance. Even though my costs are cheap in comparison to the United States, I'm happy to know I can officially begin this process, as it's a lot of the reason why I'm here in the first place. I gotta take care of me, and sometimes I forget to do that.

Some resemblance of an actual life here in Brno is beginning to emerge. I'm no longer in visa limbo, I have access to an incredible network of doctors and specialists, and I can legally acquire income to support myself. The first few months have been tough because most of my savings has gone towards paying rent without receiving anything in return as it was illegal to get paid. I can go forth and be productive! And I have incredibly amazing things on the horizon. On Wednesday I leave for Poland for a five day tour with two amazing female comics from Prague. Our journey will take us to Wroclaw, Lodz, Warsaw, and Krakow with an extra day to do some sightseeing. Poland has similar costs to CZ so we won't be going broke and our accommodation is with other comedians, meaning new friends and neighbors. Another American expat comedian in Poland is helping us coordinate travel and costs with different venues where we're performing. I can't wait.

So in hindsight, wanting to have a solo adventure in my life isn't bothering me; it's all of the unknown adventures I'll never know about that could have been possible.