After my fruitless venture to the Russian Consulate, I reported to my Professor who is overseeing my upcoming eastern hullabaloo that is called 'language camp.' Defeated and ill, I had given up on trying to retrieve my passport and wished him via gmail to have a wonderful weekend.
AND YET-
I get a phone call on Saturday. It is Professor's assistant, reporting to me that, in his hands he holds my beloved passport. Professor had personally trundled over to the consulate and "begged" (as his assistant informed me) for them to let him have it so the poor girl (me) could go and see her father (Kaptain Kim).
Professor did not have to do that. (I should have just paid the additional $150 to get it processed more quickly)
After all, there are individuals on the McGill payroll who are not disinterested and ignorant robots, but kind Russian scholars with warm hearts and communist bartering skills!
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