I did not mean to have this long of a break from the blog but I have been busy traveling and getting some immigration formalities out of the way so I can enjoy the rest of my time here. This post is mainly about my immigration experience and what that was like! It’s also crazy to think that I reached the halfway mark and have about two and a half months left here in Timişoara!
Shortly after my last post in March, my school contacted all Erasmus students to begin the immigration paperwork process. They gave us a checklist of what we’d need: I had to stop by the Erasmus office to pick up an official letter and visit the campus clinic for a document confirming I didn’t have any communicable diseases that could prevent me from studying here. The university helped organize our appointments—we just had to choose a day from their list and show up anytime during that day. Since I’m over 26, I also had to provide proof of health insurance, which I have through my home university. Overall, it seemed pretty straightforward.
The “fun” started when my roommate returned from the student clinic and said they told her to come back closer to her immigration appointment—which was strange, since health certificates are valid for 30 days after issue. Wanting to get ahead, I decided to go that following Monday morning.
When I woke up on Monday, I saw a message in our Erasmus group chat from another student who had just been turned away at the clinic for not having an appointment. This was especially confusing, since my school had told me appointments weren’t necessary. I started worrying that I was going to experience some difficulties as well.
When I arrived at the clinic, I explained to the woman at the desk that I needed a health certificate for my immigration appointment. Another woman came over and asked when my appointment was. It was for the following week, but since I was traveling, I would need this document today. She told me to leave and come back closer to the appointment. I repeated that, unfortunately, I would need this today since I was traveling. She told me again that it was too soon. I kindly explained that on the government website it says that health certificates are valid for 30 days after issue. She responded, “Yes and no.”
She went into the doctor’s office and had me stand outside. Where they got *me* was that they asked for a student number. I had no idea what or where that was. I offered to show them every document from school that proved that I was a student but nothing I had was good enough. “Rules are rules,” she explained. After wanting to scream, I left and went to school and explained my situation. They offered to have the secretary of the school provide a document saying that I was a valid student there. I was just completely baffled that the school clinic was proving to be extremely unhelpful and difficult to work with. Surely, we couldn’t have been the only group of students to have this issue with them and the school must have anticipated that we would have trouble. I was able to confirm what my student number was and I printed that off of the school website and marched right back to the clinic. I wasn’t going to wait for yet another document because these women wanted to be on their power trip.
When I came back, the woman asked if I had found my student number, and I handed her the printout I brought. She disappeared into the office, and a few minutes later, they called me in. The doctor was sitting behind a desk and simply asked me to sign a book declaring that I wasn’t sick. I signed it, they handed me the certificate—and that was it! After all that hassle and confusion, it turned out to be incredibly simple. Sadly, it seems I had a much smoother experience than most other students. Over the next week, I started hearing more and more stories about the clinic and how hard it was to navigate the staff’s disorganized, ever-changing, made-up system. Each student seemed to be told something different, as if we were all sent on our own little scavenger hunts. One student even missed her immigration appointment because of the hoops she had to jump through. In hindsight, I’m sure that going to a private clinic would’ve been a far easier and less frustrating way to complete this step of the immigration process.
In between the clinic and my immigration appointment I had the opportunity to go to Brussels to meet up with the Gonzaga crew who were participating in this year’s Brussels European Forum. I am sure I will make a separate posting about that adventure! Seeing them was a much needed break and it was fun to provide them with insights on my own experience from last year’s forum. While we were there, we were also able to visit the US Embassy and have an audience with four diplomats who had a conversation with us about their career. It was very informative and proved to be especially relevant to the Diplomacy and Global Affairs class that I am currently in. It was a wonderful few days getting to also travel to Antwerp and Bruges and be around great people!
The morning after I got back from Brussels, I had my immigration appointment—which turned out to be nothing like I expected. I imagined a DMV-style setup with numbered tickets, but it was far more chaotic (spoiler: I’ll never complain about the DMV again).
I arrived at the office right at 8:30 a.m. and was immediately confused. There was a small window near the entrance, where I first queued, but something told me to check the small room to the right. Inside were chairs, a doorway with two small windows, and a few people clutching thick folders. I figured I was in the right place. There was no line or system—you just stood at the doorway along with 10 other people, waited for a spot to open, and made your move. When I finally sat down, the officer asked if I was a student, then directed me to the other window for student processing. I waited again, handed over my documents, and was given the application to fill out.
OF COURSE, I had no pen—and they didn’t offer any—so I had to run down the street and buy one for one Romanian leu. Back at the office, I queued up again. This time, as the officer reviewed my documents, he noticed a problem: the signatures on my 18-page rental agreement hadn’t printed. I hadn’t even realized there were signatures in the middle of the contract. He told me to get them reprinted and to return either later that day or the next.
I messaged the dorm administrator and explained my situation and he told me to ask for the immigration officer’s superior because he was clearly mistaken in telling me to leave and come back. There was absolutely no way I was asking for the immigration officer’s manager! Upon further glance, the signatures on my rental contract were on page 13 and for whatever reason, did not print. I walked to school hoping that someone could help me reprint this document. The Erasmus office told me to go to the Social Services office and they would be able to help me out with what I needed. I explained my situation (again) to two guys in the office and told them I needed my dorm contract reprinted. They told me that I obviously should have printed the contract right from the browser. Ok, whatever. They kindly reprinted the 18 page contract for me and I hurried BACK to the immigration office.
After showing up a third time, the immigration officer waved me in and asked if I had my signatures. I said, yes, on page 13. He took my passport and documents again and this time had me take a pictures and fingerprints. I was given a paper to come back in 30 days and I was done! I thanked him and told him to have a nice day in Romanian it seemed like he appreciated my effort in speaking the language as he perked up somewhat and smiled. I was in the clear for another month and free to enjoy my time…until the next day when I received a WhatsApp call from the dorm administrator. He had heard that I told someone that he refused to sign my documents. I was dumbfounded. I kindly asked what he was talking about because I never said that. He noticed the tone of my voice and said that clearly there was a communication error on someone’s end so nothing to worry about. Or so I thought….
That weekend I was heading to Budapest for a half marathon. I was a bit under the weather with a cold that I acquired during my time in Brussels but I was going to make the best of it regardless. Once I stepped off the train, I made my way to the Széchenyi Baths for the afternoon. I will add a more in depth post about that experience and my time in Budapest as well! After an evening of rest, my roommate came to meet me the following day. We had such a blast walking everywhere and taking a million pictures. Budapest was one of the most beautiful cities I have visited. The race went well, albeit, my time was a little slower than the race in Timişoara but that’s ok! We had perfect weather the whole weekend and it was an amazing time.
On the morning we were leaving Budapest, I checked my UVT school email and was stunned to find an urgent message: the immigration office had contacted the university, and I needed to report back immediately. My stomach dropped. I thought I was finally done with this exhausting process that was taking so much of my time, and now it felt like everything was unraveling. My mind jumped to the worst-case scenario—I was convinced I was going to be deported and could no longer study in Romania.
I emailed the Erasmus office right away, hoping for some clarification. That whole morning was a blur of anxiety—I even cried in a café in Budapest. My roommate, trying to lift my spirits, kindly bought me a coffee and a cookie. But at that point, the process had taken a real toll on me. I felt completely defeated. Thankfully, I received an email back from the office and the only thing I needed to fix was my health insurance. Ok, good news, I wasn’t being deported but that also meant that the health insurance I had from my home school (that cost $400) was not valid. I specifically needed to take out health insurance in Romania and then drop the paperwork back at immigration once I had it. I was given an insurance contact that other students have used in the past and I reached out to her right away to get signed up.
The process of obtaining Romanian health insurance took about 24 hours and only cost me around $15 for the entire year. I am sure that this is the most basic plan that doesn’t cover much, but now I am double-covered with health insurance. The next day, I went back to the immigration office and found it filled with about 30 men waiting to process their work visas. It was at that moment I really considered leaving the immigration office, ignoring my problems, and somehow hiding in Romania forever.
Because of the way the “system” is set-up, I had to force myself into the tiny doorway and basically cut in front of all of these men. I had a feeling that it was going to be quite a challenge doing so but I couldn’t wait all day! I darted in front of a man who was waiting and went to the tiny window. I asked if I could drop this paperwork off and the immigration officer asked me a few questions, took my paper, wrote something on it, and said, “Ok, bye.” I thanked him and left—hoping that the paper actually made it into my file and that next time, I’ll just be picking up my residence permit.
Looking back, I realize my experience wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been—and that I really shouldn’t complain, especially considering the challenges international students are facing right now in the U.S. I’ll admit I made a few small mistakes, like not being more thorough with my paperwork—particularly the 18-page rental contract (but honestly, who reads all of that?).
The health insurance requirement, though, caught me off guard. I had checked multiple sources, including the Romanian immigration website, and assumed the global health insurance arranged by my home university would be enough. Immigration processes are often so unclear and inconsistent, and there’s so much conflicting information out there, that it’s hard to know what’s actually required.
I also noticed that many people had lawyers or representatives with them and they seemed to have a much easier and more positive experience. The school did offer a representative, but I thought I had everything under control and decided to manage it on my own. If I could do it all over again, I’d definitely bring someone for support—if not to handle the paperwork, then to at least help me get to the front of the line.
Run. Sip. Serve. 
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