This is the continuation of Love’s Adversary – Part 1.
I have always heard legendary stories about the travails of obtaining an American visa, none of which particularly interested me because I didn’t really want to go to America. When I fell in love with an American, however, I started paying attention. Still, I assumed all I had to do was walk in, gush about the discovery of my one true love and happily ever after and they would smack a visa in my passport faster than Kobe Bryant could bounce a ball. Talk about self-delusion. Not only did they not smack a visa in my passport, they were quite unimpressed with my fairy tale. I dare say they even seemed bored – the first, second and third time but 2 years and the 4th time later, obviously they’d see reason, wouldn’t they?
After 3 hours of standing in the heat and 4 searches with more to come, I ungraciously keeled over in a faint on the queue guard. The security officer rushed to my side and asked what was wrong but the only words I could get out were, “dehydrated” and “water”. I obtained a bottle of water and gulped it down within 15 seconds. I managed to prop myself up for the rest of the way. I took this tribulation as a good sign. Surely, I wouldn’t go through all this crap in the name of love and still not obtain a visa! More self-delusion.
After another 2 hours of heat, I was provided an opportunity to listen to a short diatribe, which I consider meaningless and unreasonable. We have been together for 2 years, we would like to be together forever, and therefore I would like to meet his family. I have applied for a visa 3 times over the last 2 years for the exact same reason. Seriously, what is the complication?
I’m quite proud of the fact that I waited to get into my car before I started bawling from unadulterated frustration. Balls of tears so huge that as I turned into the main road, they completely blinded me to the huge black Chevrolet I was about to plummet into, or vice versa I think. I’m not quite sure who missed who but a split second either way, I would have been under that truck. I pulled the car onto the side with very shaky fingers and took stock. I almost fainted and just nearly got myself killed because I didn’t get a visit visa.
I realised there and then I was done with it. Sometimes, when you come up against an immovable adversary in love, rather than bashing your head repeatedly against it, perhaps the best thing is to just step round it and find a better way to conquer it. When we find that way, I will happily blog about it.
I have always heard legendary stories about the travails of obtaining an American visa, none of which particularly interested me because I didn’t really want to go to America. When I fell in love with an American, however, I started paying attention. Still, I assumed all I had to do was walk in, gush about the discovery of my one true love and happily ever after and they would smack a visa in my passport faster than Kobe Bryant could bounce a ball. Talk about self-delusion. Not only did they not smack a visa in my passport, they were quite unimpressed with my fairy tale. I dare say they even seemed bored – the first, second and third time but 2 years and the 4th time later, obviously they’d see reason, wouldn’t they?
After 3 hours of standing in the heat and 4 searches with more to come, I ungraciously keeled over in a faint on the queue guard. The security officer rushed to my side and asked what was wrong but the only words I could get out were, “dehydrated” and “water”. I obtained a bottle of water and gulped it down within 15 seconds. I managed to prop myself up for the rest of the way. I took this tribulation as a good sign. Surely, I wouldn’t go through all this crap in the name of love and still not obtain a visa! More self-delusion.
After another 2 hours of heat, I was provided an opportunity to listen to a short diatribe, which I consider meaningless and unreasonable. We have been together for 2 years, we would like to be together forever, and therefore I would like to meet his family. I have applied for a visa 3 times over the last 2 years for the exact same reason. Seriously, what is the complication?
I’m quite proud of the fact that I waited to get into my car before I started bawling from unadulterated frustration. Balls of tears so huge that as I turned into the main road, they completely blinded me to the huge black Chevrolet I was about to plummet into, or vice versa I think. I’m not quite sure who missed who but a split second either way, I would have been under that truck. I pulled the car onto the side with very shaky fingers and took stock. I almost fainted and just nearly got myself killed because I didn’t get a visit visa.
I realised there and then I was done with it. Sometimes, when you come up against an immovable adversary in love, rather than bashing your head repeatedly against it, perhaps the best thing is to just step round it and find a better way to conquer it. When we find that way, I will happily blog about it.
6 comments:
This sounds very frustrating. Have patience. I'm sure there's an easier way round this. Love your writing.
Has your love been to visit you in Nigeria? Being there at the interviews may help I think.
@Myne, my boo and I live in UAE. I was writing about the US embassy in Dubai. Won't really be applying again. We're currently examining other sensible ways round this.
@Jumoke, indeed it is. Unfortunately, my patience is at a very low threshold right now!
If you'rew together then it is less traumatic, his family can come over right?
@Myne, being together does make it less stressful. At the moment, we're trying to work something out. I'm done donating money to US embassy.
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