I chose to work with a recruiter as I apply for the EPIK program. I've chosen Greenheart Travel, and all of their representatives have been lovely and helpful.
(I'll probably write a post about going the recruiter route later on, but for now I just want to moan about the US government).
The associates at Greenheart really stressed getting the FBI background check early in the process, since it can take months to receive the results. It's a bit of a gamble, since you have to get the background check before you've been accepted into the program, but it's worth the hassle. A little strange to get fingerprinted when you just want to run up to the Korean government and go, "hey I'm not a criminal!", but still well worth it.
Being the oh-so-intelligent person that I am, I decided to get a head start and apply for a background check before I even sent my EPIK application to Greenheart. I had been fingerprinted at Penn State through 3M Cogent for my writing center job, so I, with the air of arrogance of someone who has it all figured out, registered through that same company. $25 later and I thought I was worry-free.
Oh, past-self, you're cute.
This happened like two weeks ago. I don't want to talk about it.
Shortly after, my recruiter was all, "hey, what are you doing; this is a Pennsylvania background check, not federal." And I was all, "hah, just kidding, I have no idea what I'm doing!"
And thus the wild goose chase began.
Thankfully, the Internet gave me a list of FBI-approved fingerprinting agencies in my town, one of which was the State College police. The very notion of going to the police station got me shaking in my boots a little bit, since I've always hated to be that person who did something wrong. But, I figured, if I'm going to live across the world, better start with an open mind now and face my fears of dealing with a terrifying institution.
Because, friends, at this time, I thought dealing with the State College police was a terrifying idea.
The following act is a short rendition of Kira's wasted-hour-running-around-town-that-she-will-never-get-back:
Me: [giving the officers my widest grin] Hello! I have a quick question for you.
Police officer: [Silence]
Me: I would like to get a federal background check for a work visa [I add in the work visa part because I'm still irrationally terrified that people think I'm a criminal].
Police officer: Before you go any further, you're gonna have to go to the UPS store. We don't do prints here.
Me: You're at a police station.
Police officer: Bye now!
Still trying to give "positive attitude" vibes, I walk a mile to the UPS store, and come across a friendly worker.
UPS worker [before I even say anything, shocking!]: How are you today, Miss? What can I do for you?
Me: [Losing confidence in the system entirely] Do you do federal background checks?
UPS worker: We do!
Me: Great! Let me show you the form. [Pulls out fingerprint form]
UPS worker: Oh, no, we can't do that. We only do digital prints. You're gonna have to go to the State College police.
Which is ironic, since I WAS ALREADY THERE, AND I'M ABOUT READY TO THROW MY FACE INTO A WALL.
UPS worker: Do you drive? There's also a police station in Bellefonte that we usually refer people to.
Me: Great. Yes. Just tell me where it is.
UPS worker: Oh, it's at the jail.
Me: Say what now?
And so, trudging back another mile to my apartment, I have to call my father to ask for a ride (because I'm 22 years old and the notion of driving still sends me into hysterics) to the local jail.
I'll spare you from my Foucaultian observations on how disorienting it is to be inside an institution from which society has tried to alienate the average citizen, but basically, my morning consisted of spending a half hour trying to figure out the prison intercom system, making awkwardly-lengthy eye contact with a prisoner who was also getting fingerprinted, and trying not to run in fear at the very sight of a holding cell (not that I could have run very far, since I had to wait for the security guards to unlock the doors on my way out).
Also, I had to figure out what in the hell a money order was, and how to pay it to my local jail. 'Cause that's definitely something I thought I was gonna do in life.
But, I got my fingerprints. And shortly after I returned home, I sent in my EPIK application and Greenheart emailed me step-by-step instructions on how to apply for a federal background check--including sample application pages and discounted prices.
So, the moral of the story ends up being 3 things: 1) don't go to jail. It's hella scary (more intellectual observations to come). 2) If you're applying through a recruiter, wait until you've sent in your application to get the background check. Chances are, your recruiter won't send you to the wolves and will actually give you a (very helpful) guide on getting fingerprinted. And 3) if you're in the State College, PA area, you will have to go to the Bellefonte jail to get printed. Why a town with a mammoth university doesn't have proper fingerprinting locations is beyond me, but there it is.
Again, this is only the beginning of the paperwork to come. So expect more hair to be torn out of my head.
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