I was at the US Embassy last week.
We queued (in the rain) for about 15 minutes then assured the security men we were not carrying mobile phones, electronic car keys, cameras or anything else even vaguely threatening… and made it through to the visa section.
What an interesting place. The décor was sort of 1970’s third-world official. Rows of uncomfortable chairs. Iron grilles painted a dirty shade of not-cream. There was a refreshments stand in the corner serving tea and coffee – which I took to be a sign that we’d be there for some time.
As we waited for our number to be called, I could hear snatches of conversation all around me. People were excited, fearful and nervous. Many were accompanied by children too small to understand why they were in this strange place. I heard accents from many different countries, and languages that I didn’t understand.
There was however, something we all had in common….
Moving to a new country is a challenge. I’ve done it twice before – once when I moved to live in Honk Kong (where I met webmaster John) and then when I came with him to the UK. Now we are doing it again.
Next month, we are moving to New York City… the big apple itself (although I’m told no-one who lived there calls it that). We plan to live there for a couple of years.
How exciting is that!!!!
The US embassy in the rain is a bit grim and the visa section is not exactly inviting – but it’s nothing compared to what immigrants going into the US via Ellis Island went through last century.
The stories those people had to tell make fascinating reading. I’m thinking I’ll have some stories to tell too…