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Border Control

To all those who have stuck with the blog through the dark ages of being back in Ireland, I have some good news. The light is beginning to shine at the end of the tunnel. After a long and em, fun wait for the past few weeks, I finally had my visa appointment on Friday. It was a long and nervous event, so I’ll try a new brief technique…

Sleepless night. Wrecked. Porridge. Eggs. Protein shake. Coffee. Dodge. Nerves. Stomach. Rumble. Queasy. Embassy. Searched. Frisked. Entry. Early. Waiting. Forms. Letters. Photo. Photo? No photo. No joy. Start again. Leave. Pharmacy. Passport photo. Return. Frisked. Entry. Late. Queue. Long. Very long. Take a ticket. #150. Waiting. Now serving #120. Wait. Just wait. And wait. Reading. Dozing. Thinking. Reading. Dozing. Waiting. Bored. Over-thinking. Cramped. Sweating. Breather. Bathroom. Space. Praying. Please God. Distraction needed. Dirty runners. Clean runners. Bathroom. Knock Knock. Out in a minute. Waiting room. 40 minutes later. Serving #130. Wuu. Waiting. Boring. So bored.

Waiting for 3 hours, gives you too much time to think of all possible outcomes. Not wanting to tempt fate by thinking it was a shoo-in that I would get the visa, I nicely managed to start freaking myself out. As a distraction, I killed a good half an hour in the bathroom by cleaning my runners. Don’t ask me why, they weren’t even dirty. Still though, I needed something to take my mind off what I was waiting for. Also, not too sure, but praying while sitting on a toilet, does not seem like the right thing to do. Doesn’t really feel like a holy place to pray. However, it did help. Along, oddly, with some help from a small girl.

The visa interview was not what I expected either. I presumed, realistically I thought, that it would involve being greeted by burly security guards, then locked into a interrogation room, bright white lights baring your soul, and being hammered with grueling questions. Not exactly the case. In fact, it is more like the every day task of lodging money in the bank. Go up to a window, speak to a person behind the glass, and they then decide yay or nay. No good cop, bad cop routine. No way to subtly bribe the person either with a deft, Casino-style golden handshake. 

When my number is finally called, I was greeted by a regular, sound guy behind the counter. What threw me off a bit, was that it seemed he had brought his daughter to work with him. Hazarding a guess, she was about 5 years old. As I was trying to answer his first question in the best possible way, his daughter starts hitting the keyboard in front of her, extra hard. A few words into my answer, I noticed he was not really taking notice of what I was saying. More like what she was doing. Hit that keyboard little girl! Smack it! Next question… again, my great answer is soon distracted by the little girl ripping up more paper, important documents this time it seems. Rip on! Shred them up! Finally, as he is reading through my application and my letters backing me up, she picks up the computer mouse, and starts waving it around. He doesn’t really notice this. Until she tries to throw it away. Sealed the deal for me. He stamps my application and informs me that the visa will be posted out to me soon. Weirdly, the girl looked at me, and did this…

Girl Thumbs-Up

Not being too sure what was going on, I asked in a confused tone… Pardon? Seriously? That’s it? Then, as it sunk in what he had just said, I quickly mumbled thanks, goodbye, and a thumbs up back to the little girl. As casually as I could, I left without jumping in the air and clicking my heels. Although I did hug the lady in the queue behind me. She did not hug back. It’s not that I had anything to hide, or that the application wasn’t legit. Just the fact that it was such an unknown. Seeing as I don’t like to take things for granted either, I won’t fully relax until my passport with the visa attached does actually arrive in the post. Then I can afford a smile about it. The L-Hey return is around the corner. Bored? So boring? Well worth it. 

That new short technique worked well for that one paragraph. Pity about the other four, ha. Two songs from Outkast, the first which had me singing along as I left the Embassy…


Rosa Parks – Outkast

B. O. B – Outkast

This song just came on my iTunes as well and is too good to ignore!

The Cure

Close To Me – The Cure

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