Prologue: This is strange. I find it difficult to blog happiness. Humor, maybe. But happiness—the kind that isn’t necessarily funny—now, that’s a different story. For the past two nights, I’ve been trying to write about my happy visa experience last Tuesday, but the words have been hard to come. There’s a smile on my face and song in my heart, but the fingers just won’t tap dance the way I want them to. Could it be that this tap dancer has grown too acquainted with melancholic music and the occassional silly rhythm that he loses his footing when the steady, graceful strains of joy suddenly play? (Naks!) Hmmm… Anyway, here’s my last attempt at blogging my happy visa experience. However this piece turns out, it will get published.
By some miracle (no hyperbole here), I was granted a US visa last Tuesday. This, despite my “interesting” answer to the last question fired by Mr. I-don’t-smile-when-I-work (a.k.a the visa officer at Window 4).
“Do you have financial documents, sir?” Yikes, the dreaded question for which i was ill-prepared. I cleared my throat and answered, “As a matter of fact, I do, but…uhm…honestly, the figures are not very significant.” Uh-oh. Sheepish smile, the kind that says “Should I have said that?”(Now, this next bit of detail did not make it to my oral stories to friends.) I actually stammered after i just heard myself declare that i was poor. The implication of my declararion: no wealth to pull me back to the Philippines, ergo no visa! Did i just stamp “Disapproved” on my visa application?!
Mr. I-dont-smile-when-I-work suddenly became Mr. I’m-busy-typing-something-on-my-computer-while-your-heart-pounds-in-anticipation. (Hmm… I got the idea for these long names from Faith’s funny email! Hehe.) I regained my composure after stopping in mid-sentence and quitting my attempt at explaining my previous statement. And then I awaited the verdict.
After some brisk scribbles on my application form, the visa officer slipped a yellow sheet of paper under the glass window. “Please proceed to the pavillion to arrange for the delivery of your visa.”
Oh. Okay. Thank you.
That’s it. The three months of fretting, praying, and battling the resident pessimist within finally came to its three-minute end. Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m actually happy, believe me. But, I told you, I don’t know how to blog happiness. Boink. Sorry.