Visa dream

-¿Consular de Chile, cómo podemos ayudarle?

-Ehm, hola. Buenos dias. Me gustaría saber que Uds. han recibido un paquete de documentos para un visa…¿puedo hablar con Sra. Romero?

-Es Sra. Romero. ¿Cómo se llama?

-S----- P---.

(pausa)

-Ah, sí. Se faltan unas cosas…

[Shit, of course papers are missing. The deadline is already closing in on the expected date the visa will arrive and the exact date the plane will leave.]

…una aplicación de tres partes que me envias por email. Las fotos que hemos recibidas son inválidas, y no puedes pagar con cheque, lo necesitamos en dinero efectivo.

-Emm, Ud. puede repitir otra vez?

-I can speak in English.

[Now the inconsiderate gabacho, who's inability to speak the country's tounge, feels the weight of shameful failure press upon the conscience like that of a thousand constrictors.]

-Oh, right… umm well…

-You need to send in three application forms sent back to me by email. A new set of photos in color and you must pay in cash at the consulate.

After a few back-to-back sojourns to the consulate seas are looking clear for this gabacho and luckily Sra Romero is a kind, understanding being. He hopes that his visa will be ready by the time of his departure, and faces a costly flight change (in dollars and a desire to get moving) if not. Given the altercations of '73, he wonders if Chile has any desire to admit any other vagabonds gifted from Tío Sam.