Student trips abroad are one of the joys of studying in the Netherlands. But how quickly a dream trip to London can turn into a nightmare when you’re down and without a passport in London.
Have you ever ridden the highest roller coaster in the world? It was a surprisingly lovely weather when we landed at London Gatwick on Friday. My first impression of London was of a dynamic city. Everything seemed perfect. My only thought was: ‘Enjoy!’ I felt so happy. And what do women do when they feel happy? We go shopping! To Oxford Street, so irresistible for us girls!
How carefree I was in that department store, browsing through all the beautiful clothes, when suddenly two Moroccan ladies are standing close beside me. One on my right, the other on my left. The one on my right speaks to me. I turn to her and reply. And then it hits me: I’d been set up! The other lady had snatched my bag off the floor…but it was too late, the women had just disappeared!
I was frozen, my heart beating too fast! All my money, my passport…everything gone! Stolen! And suddenly I was in the front seat of that roller coaster, hurtling down from shopper’s heaven to a cold hell! After endlessly phoning the Chinese and Dutch embassies for emergency help, the final answers were: ‘Come to the office on Monday.’ My return flight to Holland on Sunday then would ‘fly away’ without me.
With all the anxious waiting, desperate hoping, I suddenly glimpsed a dead-end near future. What can I do now? How should I feel? Without a passport, I didn’t exist! The only thing to do was party! That night, I got drunk and couldn’t stop laughing. On Sunday morning I went to the airport, knowing there was no way I’d be leaving with my boyfriend and the other students. I could only change my flight to Tuesday, giving me two days to get the required documents. “Oh God!” I thought. “Two more days. I can’t wait to leave this country!”
Speechless
Have you ever heard the sound of your own heart breaking into pieces? Early Monday morning I wasn’t prepared for the shocking news from the Chinese Embassy lady: “A new passport takes 1 to 3 months, meaning you’d have stay here that long. A travel document takes at least 3 days. Maybe it’s quicker to fly to China, apply for everything there.”
That last sentence broke me! Suddenly, so many terrible thoughts flooded over me…my parents, internship, money, boyfriend, alone…! I burst into tears in Hyde Park. “Be a big girl,” I kept telling myself. “Be a big girl!”
I didn’t have a ticket, only a ‘stand-by’ for Thursday evening flights. I planned to get to the airport early on Thursday, but first I had to go to the Dutch Embassy. At the embassy, the lady behind the desk, who was three times bigger than me, beat me down! She was the ‘Dutch No Lady’! She started by warmly asking, “Dear, how did it happen?”, then became truly impatient.
TU Delft has arranged everything and the IND, I said, I’m expected at Schiphol today. “No,” Dutch No Lady said, “they’ll send you back to China if you don’t have a visa”; “No, this is your problem, I didn’t get my bag stolen”; “No, that’s because you have a ‘Chinese’ passport. I have a Dutch passport and can fly to the Netherlands anytime I want, which I’m going to do tonight in fact!”
Every time she said “No” and shook her head, the hunk of flesh under her chin started shaking too! Her every word hurt. I was speechless. Running out of the embassy in tears, I knew I couldn’t get the visa until after 3 o’clock and would therefore probably miss that evening’s flights.
Something is collapsing. A traffic jam on the way to the airport. I’m now 15 minutes late for the last flight out of London! I count down the seconds to when ‘check-in’ closes. I feel ice cold. The airport ticket lady’s now searching the database and keeps saying, “It doesn’t look good.”
When she speaks to me, I can’t understand a word. Not because of her British accent, but because my English suddenly left me too! I only hear my heart pounding. And then, like sunlight suddenly bursting through dark clouds, she says, “Yes, I got one for you!” Ticket ladies like an angel standing on a cloud! “Thank God!” I cry, “I’m going back to Netherlands!”
Of my trip to London, I remember only the quick, nerve-racking switches from good to bad, bad to good. A nightmare, seven days of mind torture. And even now, when I think of my London trip I still feel depressed. But one thing’s certain: I’ll sure as hell never forget it!
Have you ever ridden the highest roller coaster in the world? It was a surprisingly lovely weather when we landed at London Gatwick on Friday. My first impression of London was of a dynamic city. Everything seemed perfect. My only thought was: ‘Enjoy!’ I felt so happy. And what do women do when they feel happy? We go shopping! To Oxford Street, so irresistible for us girls!
How carefree I was in that department store, browsing through all the beautiful clothes, when suddenly two Moroccan ladies are standing close beside me. One on my right, the other on my left. The one on my right speaks to me. I turn to her and reply. And then it hits me: I’d been set up! The other lady had snatched my bag off the floor…but it was too late, the women had just disappeared!
I was frozen, my heart beating too fast! All my money, my passport…everything gone! Stolen! And suddenly I was in the front seat of that roller coaster, hurtling down from shopper’s heaven to a cold hell! After endlessly phoning the Chinese and Dutch embassies for emergency help, the final answers were: ‘Come to the office on Monday.’ My return flight to Holland on Sunday then would ‘fly away’ without me.
With all the anxious waiting, desperate hoping, I suddenly glimpsed a dead-end near future. What can I do now? How should I feel? Without a passport, I didn’t exist! The only thing to do was party! That night, I got drunk and couldn’t stop laughing. On Sunday morning I went to the airport, knowing there was no way I’d be leaving with my boyfriend and the other students. I could only change my flight to Tuesday, giving me two days to get the required documents. “Oh God!” I thought. “Two more days. I can’t wait to leave this country!”
Speechless
Have you ever heard the sound of your own heart breaking into pieces? Early Monday morning I wasn’t prepared for the shocking news from the Chinese Embassy lady: “A new passport takes 1 to 3 months, meaning you’d have stay here that long. A travel document takes at least 3 days. Maybe it’s quicker to fly to China, apply for everything there.”
That last sentence broke me! Suddenly, so many terrible thoughts flooded over me…my parents, internship, money, boyfriend, alone…! I burst into tears in Hyde Park. “Be a big girl,” I kept telling myself. “Be a big girl!”
I didn’t have a ticket, only a ‘stand-by’ for Thursday evening flights. I planned to get to the airport early on Thursday, but first I had to go to the Dutch Embassy. At the embassy, the lady behind the desk, who was three times bigger than me, beat me down! She was the ‘Dutch No Lady’! She started by warmly asking, “Dear, how did it happen?”, then became truly impatient.
TU Delft has arranged everything and the IND, I said, I’m expected at Schiphol today. “No,” Dutch No Lady said, “they’ll send you back to China if you don’t have a visa”; “No, this is your problem, I didn’t get my bag stolen”; “No, that’s because you have a ‘Chinese’ passport. I have a Dutch passport and can fly to the Netherlands anytime I want, which I’m going to do tonight in fact!”
Every time she said “No” and shook her head, the hunk of flesh under her chin started shaking too! Her every word hurt. I was speechless. Running out of the embassy in tears, I knew I couldn’t get the visa until after 3 o’clock and would therefore probably miss that evening’s flights.
Something is collapsing. A traffic jam on the way to the airport. I’m now 15 minutes late for the last flight out of London! I count down the seconds to when ‘check-in’ closes. I feel ice cold. The airport ticket lady’s now searching the database and keeps saying, “It doesn’t look good.”
When she speaks to me, I can’t understand a word. Not because of her British accent, but because my English suddenly left me too! I only hear my heart pounding. And then, like sunlight suddenly bursting through dark clouds, she says, “Yes, I got one for you!” Ticket ladies like an angel standing on a cloud! “Thank God!” I cry, “I’m going back to Netherlands!”
Of my trip to London, I remember only the quick, nerve-racking switches from good to bad, bad to good. A nightmare, seven days of mind torture. And even now, when I think of my London trip I still feel depressed. But one thing’s certain: I’ll sure as hell never forget it!
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