I’m not particularly fond of Guns ‘N Roses’ music but I feel that their Welcome to the Jungle song sets quite nicely the mood for today’s blog post (and AC/DC’s Highway to Hell song also does seem queerly apt to describe the current state of affairs in my home country).
So, Kathryn and I met at Curacao a couple of weeks back. Where does this leave us?
Well, we had a wonderful time at the San Marcos Hotel and we talked for hours without end, so we’re now working on the little detail of taking our relationship to the next level.
We’re making plans to meet again during the second week of March, this time in Aruba (just a couple of hundred miles away from our first meeting place). We talked a lot about the future, marriage even, since we feel we know each other extensively from our long online interactions and from the three days and nights we spent discovering in person all the fine little minutiae that we couldn’t share online due to the limitations of the medium. But while Kathryn is eager to try, I don’t really want to raise any false hopes in her.
Not that I’m not eager to take this big step, too; after so many years looking for the right girl, I can feel she’s the one. But there’s the matter of the legal mess I’m immersed at my home country. You see, for starters, I’d have to start rebuilding my legal documentation; my father, that charming asshole I occasionally talk about in the most obliquely way possible, is responsible for the destruction of all my legal papers, including my birth certificate, all my elementary school grades and even my vaccination records. I’m lucky that I still have my High School Diploma, Venezuelan ID Card and my Passport (this last one took me three years to take hold of, mind you).
This has caught me unprepared, as living in the jungle certainly dampened all illusions that I’d ever meet the right girl, so I never got around the point of rebuilding my documentation from the ground up. Sigh. Shows how wrong I was.
Oh, yes, you could say: “well, go ahead and start digging up all those required papers” but that’s only proof enough that you don’t know crap about my home country, which is now rife with corruption and malicious bureaucracy. Trying to locate my birth certificate will be hell and it will mean countless trips to Caracas just to find out how and even more trips to finally get it. I’m talking months here. I’m also focusing on the legal proof that I’m single, properly certified by two Ministries, which will mean hundreds of hours of legal wrangling with the system… and more bus trips. I don’t mind the required legwork nor the trips, but the legal system of my home country is deliberately structured in a way that you never get what you want without bribing someone to get it, which goes a little against my built-in moral code.
Of course, I’ll try to get most of the necessary paperwork the kosher way first, and I’m also considering a middleman to handle all the legal crap for me, but that also takes time, as I contacted everyone I know in Venezuela (very few people) for a referral to a trustworthy, reliable international lawyer knowledgeable on all the required steps… hopefully someone who won’t charge me an arm and a leg for their services.
I guess that all that’s left to say is: Dream On!
Honestly, Kat, I’ll try to get hold of at least those two papers.
Just don’t expect much in the way of results.