By Lauren Reinhart

When I got my passport back from the consulate in New York with my visa for  Bangladesh, I thought I would not have to worry about it ever again. In short, I was wrong.

The trouble all started back in February. I was stressed out when Nadia White, our professor, sent all of the class passports off to New York to get our required visas for the trip. My passport only had five months left until it expired, and I needed 6 months until expiration to enter Bangladesh. But I sent it in, and they gave me the visa anyway, so I thought it was fine. I wouldn’t have any future problems. Right? Again, I was wrong.

Fast forward to earlier this week, and I flew from Billings to Seattle to meet up with my classmates. No hiccups yet. I noticed that I didn’t have a boarding pass to scan in my app for that specific airline, Qatar Airlines, for the rest of the trip. I mustered up the courage to walk up to the desk and ask for help. 

I don’t even remember exactly what the desk attendant said. It was a blur. I remember she tried to process it a couple times, asked the other desk attendants for help and made sure that I was issued a visa. I walked as fast as my little legs could take me over to Nadia. I was definitely a wreck. A spoonful of peanut butter couldn’t fix this mess.

Nadia went back up to the desk with me and essentially said, “What’s going on?” They tried one last resort while Nadia and I made some calls. We even scheduled an early morning appointment with the passport office in Seattle to expedite a new passport. Meanwhile, the plane – our flight to Bangladesh – started to board. We waited to hear my name called and worked to see if it was possible to get new documentation in time. I was doomed to stay in the Seattle airport for at least another 24 hours. I thought about getting everything refunded and just going back home.

With all my classmates aboard the plane they called my name to the desk. It was just me, Nadia, and Najifa Farhart, waiting in anticipation. When they announced the final boarding call, Najifa boarded the plane

I had no idea what was going to happen next. I didn’t even hear what the desk attendant said, but she handed me my passport with two plane tickets. Nadia and I gave them our tickets, hustled to the plane. 

Our preparation for Bangladesh included learning simple stress-less techniques. As we walked down the aisle, Nadia reminded me to breathe and to do simple math — two techniques we learned in our travel training to chill out. But at this moment, my mind was blank. I couldn’t even do simple addition in my head.

We entered the plane, and I saw Najifa waving and smiling at me from the other aisle. When I looked forward there were my classmates sitting together in one row on this massive plane. Anyone who knows this group is aware that they get a little rambunctious and loud sometimes. So, of course, there was some cheering when they saw that I had gotten on the plane. It made all the difference. I shoved my bag into the overhead storage and sat down, mission accomplished — I made it on the plane. I finally started to breathe. I blew my nose, wiped away the tears that were forming in my eyes and relaxed. 

One of my red flags is that I watch horror movies to relax, so as we pulled out of the terminal I started “A Haunting in Venice.” I slept when I could, later switched to watching everyone’s classic comfort show “Friends” and just appreciated that I was still able to go on this trip. Once I had my shit together, I could even enjoy the airplane food, a sentence I never thought I’d say. 

Even if I was stuck between two strangers whose love languages were probably physical touch, judging by our closeness on the arm rest, I was so fortunate to have level headed people on either side to ease my mind.

More than 24 hours after I left Billings, we landed in Dhaka. I had to get my passport checked again. We all did. And the worry started all over again, that I would be flagged down again once in Bangladesh. I had already made it so far, please do not turn me away now, I thought. The man I spoke with asked me two questions. First, did I have my visa? Second, are my visa and the entrance paper slip I had just filled out were the same and accurate? I answered yes, and he let me through. A second man checked my passport and gave me the go ahead. 

Now, sitting in our AirBnB, I am safely in Dhaka, but I have unlocked a new fear, and I don’t think I am ready to take on the rest of the world just yet. But I think that’s okay. I don’t have to take on the world just yet — for now, I’ll settle for taking on the world’s largest delta. 

And I’ve already learned so much. For example: You should always have six months left before your passport expires when you travel abroad, no matter what the visa office tells you.