It turns out I'm not crazy

I had to get a couple more medical certificates today because I am applying for a Belarusian "green card." Most of the medical tests I had to take for the university already apply toward this, but I still needed to get certifications that I don't have any chemical dependencies and that I am sane.

We started in the narco center. I arrived with a full bladder and asked Alla if they would want a urine sample or a blood sample. She promised me that it would be much simpler than I imagined. The process worked like this: First we paid them a fee. Then I got to see the doctor. Alla came into the room too, in case I needed a translator. We all talked a bit, the doctor announced that I don't look like a narkoman (this is a real Russian word), and she filled out my certificate. Next, of course, she stamped the certificate with a couple of rubber stamps and I was good to go.

Alla's version of this interview was that the doctor asked if I have any complaints. "Yes," Alla replied, "he doesn't drink beer on a hot day and he doesn't drink champagne on New Year's Eve. I have no company."

Interestingly, this doctor commented that I was only the fourth American in her memory to apply for a Belarusian green card in the city of Minsk. Was I crazy to want this?

Next, we went over to the psychiatric hospital. It's located in a serene woodland setting not far from a major subway station. I remembered "Catch 22" and wondered if I needed to be certified crazy to get the green card. It turns out that I am sane, whatever that means. The procedure for determining my sanity was extremely similar to the procedure for determining my freedom from drug dependencies. First we paid money, then the doctor looked at me and immediately certified my sanity. Done.