Frustration.

"Ms. Gina, are you crying?" 

This is the question that an employee and, for all intents and purposes, a stranger, whispered to me today as I sat with my shoulders hunched and head hanging over my lap re-writing a letter on a legal pad at the Ministry of Home Affairs. She phrased this more as a statement of awareness, than a question. And she said it in a, you are being silly, it will all be OK, sort of way. Yes, I all but broke down in this government office with my white plastic visitor pass hanging from my lapel. Frustration. 

I think it is OK to cry a bit over frustration. This has been a summer of ups and downs. Most pressing at the moment, I have been here in Guyana illegally. When I arrived in the country, the customs officer only stamped my passport for a one-month stay. He could have stamped me for up to three, and from what I can tell the extent of stay given is pretty much as haphazard as how the customs officer happens to be feeling at the particular moment in time. I said, "But I am here for a two-month stay." He said: " Go to Ministry of Home Affairs in one month." So following orders, I did just that. The week before my month was up I spent a good portion of a day, not conducting my data collection, and dealing with the inner workings and individuals that seemed to be doing not so much, at the Ministry of Home Affairs. It was frustrating the first time I was there, as they kept trying to send me away to do things, when I kept mentioning that I could do those things right then without leaving and coming back. Finally, after much shuffling of my papers, copies, forms, and explanations, they said for me to call back in 10 business day. 

10 business days quickly came and went, and turned into nearly a month of calling and being told to call back. I am now, leaving the country in 6 days and have been, since the first of the month, illegally living in Guyana. I have tried not to let this be an added stressor, until today. After finally having someone talk with me on the phone this morning, I was given an instruction to write a letter of clarification. "Just to drop off," I was told. I followed this instruction immediately, got myself to the Ministry of Home Affairs and waited. The reason for hold-up now, the woman explained, is related to my multiple names, Gina and Regina (Mom, Dad!). They wondered could I get a new letter from the Ministry of Health approving my study, but this time one that includes both my names. "It took me many, many months to get the first letter. I am only here 6 more days." I explained. Perhaps someone could have mentioned that when I was here in June?, I thought to myself. Since there is no time to get a new approval letter from the Ministry of Health, I need to rewrite my letter and explain all this plus what I had previously written. No big deal sure, but for some reason, this was the straw that broke me and the tears began to flow. I am leaving in 6 days and still I can not get this settled. I just need a stamp to say I can be here 2 months instead of one. No visa was needed to come to Guyana, visitors can come to Guyana for up to 3 months... I guess I should be grateful they didn't just stamp me in for a week. Frustration. 

The tears are not just about the fear of not being allowed to leave the country due to my illegal presence since July 1, not just about the frustrating system which seems to not ever know up-front what I need to do or turn in, and instead waits for long periods of time and then tells me one more thing I need to accomplish before I can begin the application for an extended stamp on my passport page. It is not just about the time lost in attempting to complete all these tasks, it is something more. I am feeling tired. Georgetown life and data collection here for my study, has been doable for me for sure, and I have enjoyed it all in all. I have accomplished what I set out to do. I conducted a study here, something I do not think I really could have imagined doing a year ago. I am proud of this, of course. I just think I am feeling ready to be done. It is a tough life here. Beautiful in its madness and ugly when it wants to be. It is very hot here. I miss my home. I am trying to wrap my head around all I have done, seen and experienced while here, and at the moment I feel tangled. I am sure I will unravel things slowly when I get back. So I cried for it all. When are my numbers enough? I have surpassed my participant goal, but I am here, do I keep going and how far? I need help with analysis. I am frustrated and missing my home. Frustration. 

I assume this is part of it all, the whole Down's Fellowship experience. I have been lucky. Things have gone well. I should not be complaining. But, I just cried in front of a stranger sitting in a chair in the middle of a government office. Seriously. That is just plain embarrassing.