Passport Confessional | Brazil 2013, Part 1

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About 8 years ago, I was a very recent college grad. The only thing in my name was $24,000 in student loan debt, and I was living in the attic of a woman I hated. I could have really used bonding time with fellow recovering college grads. We sat in a coffee shop, and one of them asked,

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
…Paris.
…Peru.
…There’s this place in Brazil that looks like the desert. It’s called Jericoco-somethin-ur-other.

It’s called Jericoco-somethin-ur-other.

Although I couldn’t pronounce it, the image of this place could not escape me. I saw it on an episode of Globletrekker, and it was listed at #2 on their list of the world’s best beaches. When I saw these images, I couldn’t believe this was Brazil. It looked like Tunisia! So I put that dream in the back of mind and would return to it, always thinking it would simply be that: A dream.

A few years ago, I’d saved enough money to put another stamp in my passport. So I started making a short list of places. But every time I tried, I kept thinking about that place…

Jeri…Jeri…cocoa..Jeri-somethin-, Brazil.

So I Googled it to be sure. There it was: Jericoacoara, Brazil. It still looked inviting in the images. I did a little more research, and this place was becoming more and more real with each click. I said to myself,

You can go to Brazil, and see Rio. It’s another city. But you cannot go to Brazil and not go to Jericoacoara.

So I settled on a schedule where I’d spend a few days in Fortaleza (Jericoacoara’s closest city, and airport location), then spend the majority of my time in Jeri (Jericoacoara, in short). I booked lodging, bought my plane ticket, and was all set to go.

You’ve got your travel visa, right?
No, what’s that?

Two weeks before I left, my cousin drove down to visit and wanted to meet a local friend who happened to be a flight attendant. We chatted about our summer plans, and I mentioned my trip to Brazil. She said,

You’ve got your travel visa, right?
No, what’s that?
You need that if you expect to get into Brazil.
Oh, well I have my passport, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.

Really, that was my response.

Despite her protests, I did not take this warning seriously until about a week before my departure. I check the State Dept. website, and there apparently is a thing called a travel visa, which is an additional form of travel documentation, along with your passport. Since I never needed one before, I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t know that — unlike passports — expediting travel visa applications is next to impossible.

Thankfully, I work at a very understanding employer who allowed me to take an afternoon (or two) to apply for the visa and attempt the process at The Brazilian Consulate. Day One, I gathered my materials, and patiently processed all my paperwork. The office is closed. Day Two, I get there early, take my number, and try to be patient. One of my co-workers warned me of two things. 1. Be prepared to be denied. You need a backup plan in case. 2. Do not get upset with them. Do exactly as they say.

And I did that. But as I was waiting for my number to be called, I started thinking about all the money and vacation time I saved, all the time and energy I put into this dream…10 years… All of that would go away because I failed to submit an application and pay a $120 fee months prior. I started crying and shaking uncontrollably. Even the security guard asked me to calm down.

When my number was called, I thought about my time in retail, and all those crazy-busy times at Banana Republic. Sometimes you get a customer that is asking for something that is next to impossible: A sweater that is completely out of stock in the entire region; the last garment is on the mannequin in another store.  It almost always depends on — not just how nice the customer is — but how earnestly sorry they are for making your job a little harder. If someone comes in entitled and rude, then we don’t have to help you. It’s just clothes. But if someone comes in, wanting to buy a gift for a loved one, and are really, kind and patient, we will bend over backward to help them.

So I put myself the shoes of the Brazilian Consulate. First thing I say,

I am so sorry for making your job harder.
I was refused.
I begged. I have only ever wanted to go to Jericoacoara.
I was refused again.
I am not a rich American. I cannot afford to lose thousands of dollars, and walk away. … This is all I have.
….Pause…
Okay, here’s what you do. Your application fee is wrong! You want $20 back? Go to the post office down the street, ask for an adjustment, come RIGHT BACK HERE! You understand? Leave! Go right now.

I’m nodding like a naughty child who’s sorry.

I was approved! Even the security guard was like YEAH!

”

At this point, I was fully prepared to have a full adult-sized temper tantrum if I was not getting on that plane.

Day of departure, I got to the airport very early, and there’s a delay. Another hour, another delay. This went on for five more hours. There was rain in Atlanta, so no planes headed there were leaving. After a second boarding attempt, I checked the airline site to see if my connecting flight had taken off. It had, so I immediately got off the plane, and waited until a gate agent was available. Turns out that was a good thing I’d gotten off that plane. There were no more flights leaving for Brazil from Atlanta for the rest of the evening.

But it meant being scheduled on an overbooked flight the following day…

…from Detroit…

…on an eight-hour layover.

A layover that’s not long enough to go into the city, and juuuust long enough to have a nervous breakdown on the moving walkway.

I wondered to myself,
What’s with all the barriers? Is this a sign I shouldn’t go? Will something bad happen to me if I do?

To learn what happens next, check out Pages in my Passport: Brazil 2013, Part 2.

Passport Confessional is a blog series on IDSL dedicated to places I’ve traveled to, outside of the U.S.