Sydney Tour

Today I am on a whirlwind tour of Sydney. But it doesn't involve the Harbour Bridge; there's no visit of the Opera House; nor am I getting anywhere near any of the beaches. Today is a day dedicated to satisfying the Australian bureaucracy.

I got back to Brisbane early yesterday morning. I went over to the med school to pick up my diploma, had coffee with a good friend who is heading back to Canada, went back to the place I last lived and re-packed my bag - I needed to dump out my travel gear and pack some work clothes - and headed back to the airport for a night flight to Sydney.

The flight was delayed - first by twenty minutes, then it became half an hour, then it stretched to forty-five minutes. At the end, the flight was one-and-half hours late. I flew on Virgin Blue, another budget airline - well, you got your hits and you got your misses. My housemate picked me up from the airport. By the time I got to Wollongong and settled into the hospital quarters, it was well past midnight.

Which brings us to this morning. My housemate is taking me on a tour of the backstreets of Sydney, but mainly to visit two places: the New South Wales Medical Board and the Department of Immigration. I am supposed to start orientation for work next Monday, but I don't have my work visa sorted yet. Besides the mountain of supporting documents I had submitted, Immigration wanted to see my diploma and registration with the Medical Board. The New South Wales Medical Board requires that all interns coming in from out of state to register with them in person.

With my diploma in hand, I walk into the Medical Board. Registration itself is actually a pretty painless affair, it takes all of ten minutes; the most difficult part is getting to their office. Then next step is to drive to Immigration and convince them that I have in fact graduated from medical school and am now a registered doctor. It is one of those take-a-number-and-wait affairs, not unlike what one would do at the supermarket deli, except in this case, my fate - whether I will be able to work in Australia or be packed off onto the next flight out of the country - is firmly in the hands of the person behind the counter. With my paperwork handed over to them, my day is finished. The only thing I can do now is to wait while my paperwork churns through the mysterious workings of the innards of the Australian bureaucracy. Perhaps the planets will align and the person processing my paperwork will come back from holiday in a good mood and I will get my visa on time to start my orientation next week. At this point, I kind of wish that I can grease some palms and get things sped up a bit.

Or maybe I will occupy myself with the next task - looking for a place to live.