Passport to Michigan

My passport was returned to me in the mail with a huge envelope stapled to one of the pages - TO BE OPENED ONLY BY U.S. IMMIGRATION OFFICER AT PORT OF ENTRY. Wow, I wonder what my interviewer put in that letter. It's actually my I-20 - a form from the university that proves my admission - and probably a note saying, "This girl's a bit of a stutterer."

Stammer and stutter I did during the interview at the US Embassy last Thursday. The long wait did nothing to help my nerves as I watched other hopefuls approach the windowed counters and get barked at by a woman who was friendly and hostile with different people. Two boys behind me were muttering to each other, "She got it! Not sure if that guy will." They were trying to predict who would get their visas approved and who would be told to return another day.

I refused to have my own inner debate and listened to the type of questions the woman was asking students headed for the US, silently preparing my answers if I were to be asked the same. Apart from this, I observed the crowd that milled around as numbers were called out and whole families summoned to the counter. There was a young woman insisting for an immigrant visa so that she could be with her American boyfriend/fiance who she claims has offered to pay for her education. But, she added, they would return to Singapore together in a year's time. The woman behind the window insisted equally vehemently that she could not give her an immigrant visa. After a few more minutes of the girl repeating her situation, the woman relented with a condition that the girl present herself to the Embassy in a year's time to prove that she has returned.

By the time it came to my turn, the crowd was a lot smaller and I was a lot hungrier. I went up to the same woman, hoping for friendly treatment; I'd noticed she was particularly nice to a young Japanese girl with an American accent. I smiled and said "Hi!" She ignored me and said, "So, you went to the University of Michigan six years ago, graduated two years ago and have now decided that it wasn't enough and you want more education now."

"Er, yes, I do."

"Who will be paying your fees?" Her voice was louder now.

"The university. Michigan." My voice was softer now.

"What?"

"I have a scholarship. It's in the attached letter." Pages turning. There it was.

She eyed me with her beady eyes. "Why is the university paying for you? Is this a scholarship for foreigners? How did you get this?"

"I...I...The university offers some form of financial aid to incoming MFA students. And I...got this because I sent in my work and they...erm...liked it and gave me the fellowship." I really wanted to say I got it because the program gives fellowships to certain students whose work the admission board likes, but I didn't want to sound like I was bragging. I didn't plan to but I guessed that no matter how it came out, it would sound like bragging to her, and I was at her mercy and needed to make her tolerate me, if not like me, which I knew was already out of the question.

Well, I was approved after several more minutes and walked out of the cold, cold building into the afternoon rain. Land of the free? I felt like an insect in a chamber.

Posted by Monoceros at July 9, 2003 7:47 PM