An Interview with Uncle Sam

Well, The Big Countdown has begun with less than 2 weeks to go before we bid au revoir (not goodbye) to Sussex and head off to sunny Scottsdale. Yikes!

Things are finally beginning to fall into place at last ... temporary accommodation on arrival confirmed, an official acceptance from Youngest's school and most importantly, Visas received.  Phew!  The latter though, was not to be achieved without considerable effort and inconvenience ...

Last week's debacle with the photos (in case you missed it you can read about that here) was just one piece of the Visa puzzle, as in addition to completing the myriad of forms and submitting online applications (which took around half an hour per person with no way of adding the same information just once ... sigh), an 'interview' en famille at the US Embassy in London was apparently also required.  Groan.  The first available appointment was for the end of the following week, but as Youngest would still be in the middle of his school exams which he was not able to miss, we had to pass on that one and select an alternative, which turned out to be early on a Monday morning some 8 days later.  Great.  As the instructions clearly stated that we had to be there at least 30 minutes before our scheduled slot, it meant that in addition to Youngest having to have a day off school (which he was obviously gutted about) we would also have to get up at stupid o'clock to get an early train into London.  Oh good.  Just how I like to spend a Monday morning ... standing on a crowded train for an hour jammed next to some bloke with halitosis and a bad case of body odour (they always stand next to me).  Thankfully though, on this occasion we were all lucky enough to find seats and pretty soon Team Barlow had adopted the commuter persona ... heads buried in various devices, ear buds in and avoiding eye contact with any other passengers at all costs.  That is until we approached East Croydon, and the woman who had been sitting opposite, stood up and made her way to the door.  Why on earth she thought it would be better to make a phone call to what became obvious as her grandson's school in a deathly silent train carriage (the minute she started talking you could have heard a pin drop), rather than waiting a few more minutes until she had actually got off is beyond me, but the conversation went something like this (names have been changed to protect those involved ... clearly not a consideration for said passenger!)

"Hello ... it's Sarah here, Billy's nan.  I am just phoning to let you know that the childminder, Elaine Johnson, will be dropping Billy off in the morning and collecting him after school from now on ..... sorry, what? ... I can't hear you very well, I'm on a train.  **Increases volume by several decibels** Yes ... ELAINE JOHNSON ....  I have given her the password ... cucumber ... what? ... yes, that's right ... CUCUMBER".  **entire carriage collapses into fits of giggles** So ...  that was her name, her grandson's name, the childminders name and the security password all given away in the space of a few minutes to a carriage packed full of commuters!  Good grief.  This still causes much amusement to Youngest who delights in shouting "CUCUMBER!" any time anybody mentions 'Password' :D

After a short taxi ride from Victoria ... **snorts** I actually think the walk from the train to the taxi rank at Victoria took longer than the actual journey.  And what's with those footprints directing you along that big blue line?  I bumped into at least 3 people whilst I was looking down at those ... we arrived at Grosvenor Square and the U.S Embassy (on top of which perched the weirdest looking eagle I have ever seen).

We were a good 45 minutes early but already a long queue had formed in front of a white 'tent' structure outside the main entrance.  In fact there were two queues ... you needed to join the first to register your arrival with said tent and have your name ticked off a very long list, (the poor chap in front of us had turned up a day too early and was duly sent away again ... doh!) and then go to the back of the second to pass through the security screening and onward entrance into the building.  Groan.  Did I ever mention how much I HATE queuing?

All in all I guess we were queuing for around 40 minutes - thank goodness is wasn't raining or I would not have been amused.  I did feel slightly sorry for the Geordie girl in front of us though as she stood shivering in the quite frankly ridiculous outfit she had chosen for a cold February morning ... skimpy chiffon blouse,  thin jacket, bare feet and sky high heels ... all teamed with a bright orange tan a la Strictly.  (Oh God. I have turned into my mother).  We subsequently gleaned she was due to join the staff of a cruise ship ... ah, that explains that then.   After passing through the security screening and finally  into the warmth of the main embassy building, we were given a numbered ticket and directed to another crowded waiting area where we were to wait... with the millions of others... until our ticket number flashed onto one of the digital screens and we were directed to an interview window.  Think Post Office on pension day only a hundred times worse.   After another 40 minutes or so, and what seemed like the longest game of Bingo ever, our number finally flashed up and it was all I could do to contain myself and had to be prevented from standing up and shouting "House!".  Oh well, I suppose that wasn't too bad all in all.  Huh ... turns out I know nothing!  After presenting paperwork, passports, forms and having our fingerprints taken (which Youngest had been looking forward to immensely but which, disappointingly for him, were not required), we were directed to the waiting area AGAIN to wait for our number to be called a second time.  Seriously?!   Could they make this more long winded?!  After another half an hour or so of mind numbing boredom, we were finally called to another window for the 'interview' which consisted of a handful of  questions about Mr B's job, the answers to which were all written on the forms we had just handed over (?), directed to the cashier's window to hand over the fee and then informed that our passports/visas would be returned within the week ... all of which took precisely three minutes.  Jeeeez!  (just practicing my Americanisms for when I get there).

Finally, I know you are all dying to know about the photographs that caused so much hassle the previous week ... were they the right size?  was the background the correct colour? were our heads the prescribed size and in the correct position?  I have no idea as nobody bl**dy well asked for them!!  Cheers for that.

Friday the 13th ...unlucky for some!

I have never really been that superstitious about Friday 13th and it has usually come and gone without incident.  That is until last month.

Having returned from our recent 'fact finding' mission to Phoenix, we were now able to progress with the next stage of the Visa process and instructions from the immigration team at Mr B's office duly arrived shortly after.

Let's see ... complete online application ... make appointment for interview at US Embassy ... take along the attached small-rainforest-worth of forms in triplicate...
"... you will also need to provide a passport type photograph 1.5" x 1.5" ..."  Ah, right, that's OK ... I have some spare photos from the recent passport debacle. I'll just get those out now ...   Oh.  They measure 1.5" x 1.75".  Wonder if that would be OK?  Better check out the US Embassy website just in case.  Here we are ... photos .... "photos must be 2" x 2" square with a white background..." Brilliant. After checking and double checking all the other information in case anything else was different, I also discovered that we would each require a digital photo to be submitted with the online application as well as taking the actual photo to the interview at the US Embassy in London.  Good grief.

Right, well let's not panic.  I am sure I have seen a photo booth in Sainsbury's that advertises Visa pictures, so that will be OK .. we can just pop in there and get those done over the weekend.  Ah, but then how are we going to get the digital copies?  Hmm ... Ha! Got it! I can just scan them in with that old scanner we have had lying about for ages and hardly ever used.  In fact, come to think of it we haven't used it since we changed our home computer from a ...... Windows ... to a Mac .... oh God. After another hour rummaging through the mountain of CDs at the back of the cupboard containing enough installation drivers to power NASA ... Eureka! ... I managed to find the one for the Scanner which proclaimed 'suitable for PC and Mac'.  Yesssssss!  Helpfully, as our Mac does not have an integrated disc drive, more time had to be spent locating and connecting the external one.  Right.  Finally.  Now, if I just insert the disc and quickly install the driver we should be in business.  Wrong. Computer says Noooooo.  A rather shouty error message kindly informed me that this would in fact not be possible.  Cheers. Thanks a lot.

Deep breath ... count to 10 ... think ...  there must be places that you can go to that will take the photo and also provide you with a digital copy.  Yes, of course!  That's what we'll do.  After determining that there was one such place in Brighton just across from hubby's office, he was duly instructed to go and get his done at lunchtime.  Meanwhile, as Youngest had an appointment with the Orthodontist later that day in Haywards Heath I figured that if we could find somewhere nearby that also did Visa pictures then we could get that done at the same time.  A quick Google search informed me that Timpsons in Haywards Heath offered such a service.  Really?  The shoe repairers?  Hmmm, better just ring and check.

"Hi.  Do you do ID photos for US Visas?"
"Yes Madam"
"Oh good.  And it would be on a white background right?"
"Well, technically it's light grey, which is the standard for all passport pictures."
"Yes, but it's not a passport picture.  It's for a US Visa, which stipulates a white background?"
"Oh no,  you'll be fine.  They are all on a grey background now."
"Oh OK.  Can you also provide a digital copy?"
"Er ... yes, we should be able to do that"
"Er ... You don't sound very sure?"
"Oh yes. We can definitely do that"

With visions of a Catherine Tate sketch planted firmly in my mind, I set off to collect Youngest from school for his first appointment with the Orthodontist (we had only been waiting since last August).
After a pre-appointment with the practice administrator, who went on to explain very matter-of-factly that if he did indeed require treatment the current NHS waiting time was 2 years (WHAT??? we could  have gone and come back by then!).  Lack of NHS funding apparently.  I have never heard anything so ridiculous in my life!  We finally got to see the man himself, who was very pleasant, however, once he discovered we were going to be moving decided it would not be worth starting anything here and we should take Youngest to an Orthodontist in the US once we had settled in.  Bloody Hell!

Next stop, Timpsons (and clearly not in the best of moods by now).
"Hi.  I called earlier regarding some US Visa photos?"
"Oh yes, that's right.  I'll be right with you"
He finished off heeling the shoe he was repairing (that should have been a red light right there) and came out from behind the counter with camera in hand.  Photos were taken (requiring several attempts) and 6 x printed copies handed over (we only needed one, and the top two had half our heads chopped off, but never mind).  Hmm, the background was a dark grey and the head almost filled the whole picture.
"Erm ... I think there are quite strict criteria on size and position of the head.  I'm not sure these are correct?" I said.   Shoe man gave a cocky sneer and replied in a condescending tone  ...
"Of course they are.  The machine does it all automatically."  He may as well have added the implied "... dur!"
After another wait whilst he worked out how to get said pictures on to a disc, muttering "sorry to keep you, it's the first time I have done one of these ..."  he handed it over and we left, not exactly inspired with confidence.

Youngest was duly deposited back at school **grumbling that it was hardly worth it for just an afternoon AND it was Friday...** whilst I headed back home to upload the photos.  I inserted the disc into the drive and waited for the photos to appear ... and waited ... and waited.  Once again ... the computer said Noooooo.  That would be because the disc was completely blank and contained absolutely no data.  Nothing.  Zip. Nada.  I also re-checked the printed photo against the criteria for the image size again on the website and determined that they were indeed too big and therefore 'unacceptable'.  I think it was at this point that I seriously considered whether I should just open the Vodka and give up.

In a scene reminiscent of something from an episode of Benny Hill (yes, I am that old), I got back in the car and drove the 20 minutes back to Haywards Heath to pay another visit to my friend at Timpsons.  Let's see if he is still as cocky by the time I have finished with him!  Helpfully, it was now pouring with rain and so by the time I had walked from the car park to the shop, not only was I
severely ticked off but also soaking wet to boot.  A few (choice) words and one refund later, I returned home congratulating myself on the remarkable restraint I had shown in Timpsons, managing to refrain from inserting said CD into a slot of a very different kind ... Let's just hope he is better at mending shoes.

So let's see, what had I actually managed to achieve today? ... oh yes, that's right .... Nothing.

My mood was not improved later that evening when Mr B returned home smugly presenting his 2"x2" photo, perfectly proportioned complete with white background, and an email with the digital copy, which apparently had taken him all of 20 minutes from start to finish.  You can go off some people.

Suffice to say that on Saturday morning we were all off to said shop in Brighton to start again (Colourstream in James Street if you ever find yourself needing one - can highly recommend).   A very pleasant chap took our photos with speed and efficiency and we were advised that we could collect 20 minutes later.   Given that the shop was situated two doors down from Starbucks, we whiled away the time over a cappuccino & a hot chocolate (which apparently was 'waaaaay better' than mine) whilst observing the local wildlife inhabitants of James Street.  Before we had even finished our drinks the digital photos arrived in my Inbox and we collected perfect prints 5 minutes later.  

Finally ... another successful mission accomplished ... well, apart from me sprinkling cinnamon all over my cappuccino instead of chocolate, but that's another story!

Come back next week to find out how we got on at the Visa interview!