The enrollment

Today was the day I needed to enroll into my school, Elisava. After having prepared shitload of documents, having had a hard time in the Spanish embassy in Latvia with the translation of my Bachelor diploma (which is a separate story and involves a very flegmatic intern who drove me mad), I was very certain that I am prepared to go and enroll. Before leaving the apartment, I had a bright idea to revise the enrolling requirements, and tah-dah! – there where three PDFs attached to the mail, which I haven’t seen before. “Shit”, thought I, and engaged into my favourite game – “We create own problems, we solve them on our own”.

And solve I did – after finding a computer store, begged them, with a beating heart, to let me print some documents, printed, filled in, and surprisingly enough was right on time for my appointment in Elisava.

This is my school, by the way.


And this too, inside. Kind of sleek, I say.


Anyways, I have arrived to the waiting hall, there were several groups of people heatedly discussing something (typical in Spain), so I sat down and was given an envelope with yet another form to fill in on arrival.

I stared at it blankly, it was in Catalan. “Shit”, thought I, and then started filling it in. “”Cognom” means “surname” in Castellano”, tried to help me out a woman, sitting next to me. So finally I managed.

Then there was some more times, some more forms, and when it was my turn for application processing, the woman from Elisava started zoning out. She stared closely at my Bachelor degree papers from Latvia, and then started consulting her colleague. They both talked and gesticulated. Asked me several times, what type of educational degree I actually have. I patiently insisted on a Bachelor. They said – “But this translation from the embassy, it says something else”. Damn that flegmatic intern from the Spanish embassy in Latvia. Not only she was flegmatic and unhelpful, she also translated it all wrong! And charged 25 LVL for it by the way.

Anyway, a supplement with my grades saved the day. This one is a true hit – quoting as it stands in the official paper from the Latvian University: “Access to Mań£istrs study programmes or to programs designed for studies after the awarding of bakalaurs degree”. I shit you not.

“Bakalaurs!” – exclaimed both women and I was enrolled.

Had to make it up to myself after with giving in to coconut juice.

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