Friday was my visa appointment. I took an Uber downtown and located the building where the appointment was to occur. It was hot as hell again outside so despite trying to look like a calm, cool and collected woman wishing to live abroad, I arrived soaked through with sweat. I took the elevator up to the designated office, and joined another woman waiting outside of a small office. We were instructed that we would be given access one at a time and would be asked to present our documentation.
The woman ahead of me was greeted by a young worker who reviewed her paperwork and passport and she was directed to sign in with the security guard and she was escorted to another room. Soon it was my turn to do the same thing. I was admittedly, proud of my organized binder and completed paperwork. When I gave it to the girl helping me, she said it looked good and took all the required documents along with my passport with her back into the office. I was alarmed at the separation from my passport because I had always been told that you should never allow your passport out of your sight.
When I signed in with the security guard, he gave me a numbered ticket like you get at the DMV and he instructed me to turn off my phone or put it on airplane mode. I did so, and he let me into another larger waiting room with folding chairs. There were two people already waiting there and there was a screen at the front of the room that showed the current ticket number. After about 10 minutes, the woman I had followed in was called forward to a desk to review her paperwork. She was too far away for me to gather what was discussed but after a few minutes she returned to the seating area. Just 5 minutes later her number was called again and she went into a further office where I eventually found out they took pictures and did fingerprinting. After she was done, a young man who had been waiting was called and went through the same process.
After approximately twenty minutes it was my turn. I met with a young man who looked to be a teenager. He handed me back a copy of my visa application and told me my documents would be processed in 3-4 weeks. He gave me a tracking number so I could monitor where my passport was and asked me if I had any questions. Honestly, this process is so strange to me that I didn’t know what questions to begin to ask. I should have asked, “Does this mean I am approved for my visa?” but I was afraid I would like an idiot so I didn’t. Instead, I went and got some more hideous passport pictures taken and had my fingerprints recorded. After that was complete, I was instructed to leave the office. The entire elevator ride down I was kicking myself for how little I understood about what I had done. Why does a middle aged woman care about how she is perceived asking a reasonable question of a stranger?
Forty-five minutes later, I found myself again outside in the sweltering heat. I was unclear whether the appointment had been successful or not. I was unnerved to have left my passport behind, and I was now properly sweating and hungry, To my relief, I noticed that the building I had been in was connected to the new food hall that had opened in Boston that was recommended by my friend the other night. I went in and ordered some healthy salad grain bowl and wished I was eating the french fries that the girl next to me had. I’d give the whole experience a B- and the only silver lining was the air conditioned building and somewhat satisfying salad.