There are plenty of accounts available online of other peoples’ visits to the US Embassy as the final stage of applying for a K1 Fiance Visa. Reading them, it was readily apparent that the process was little more than a formality for most. Yet it’s still a nervous experience, knowing that the officials within hold such immediate power over you.
I arrived at the office of Dr. Phelan—the Embassy’s official (monopoly provider) surgeon—at 7.35am to see a queue of people already assembling. We’d ended up with a good day for it, the sun was shining and there was plenty going on to keep us entertained as we waited, such as a man walking past dressed and looking exactly like Seraph from The Matrix.
The medical itself involved a lot of waiting. I’d taken Annie Dillard’s “The Writing Life” with me to start reading, but had little expected to be finishing it before having my X-ray. Dillard’s words served the purpose I intended well, keeping my mind well away from the underground surgery in west London, instead flitting between Dillard’s many homes across the US.
The medical consisted of a blood test, a chest X-ray and a brief examination. Before and between the latter two stages a group of people is taken into a waiting area filled with cubicles and told to strip from neck to waist. It’s a strange experience, to be stuck in that cubicle, half naked, waiting to be called. One man noted that he felt like a veal calf, but there was a fair bit more space available than that! The X-ray technician didn’t try all that hard to put us at ease, with his strange brand of humour, but hearing the comment think Charles I drifting through from his office at least provided something to puzzle over!
The Embassy is only a short walk from the surgery, and many of us were over there before 10am. Some had walked the route the day before to be sure of it, and one was rather taken aback that I had only briefly glanced at the map. It was clear that I was the only one of those travelling around the time I was who was used to London, and there was the usual amusement of watching people struggle with the traffic and moan about one or other of the city’s features.
More waiting was the order of the day at the Embassy. On arrival, we handed in the letters we had received inviting us for the interviews, and we were occasionally called up to hand over more documents. It seems the embassy staff will only process one case at a time. As they sent one woman off to retrieve more documents my heart jumped, thinking I’d be called up in the interim, but it was not to be. After some time the woman returned with documents and her husband, and the wait continued.
The interview itself, when it came, was brief. I had to swear or affirm that to the best of my knowledge, I was telling the truth. They asked me when and how Kari and I had met, whether I intended to work in the US (only once I have a permit), what Kari’s job was, and where we intended to live. I was then asked to sign a form, and told that dependant on the medical results, my visa would be approved!
On entering the embassy, we had to hand in any mobile phones we might have been carrying. That only served to increase the frustration of waiting a further hour for the arrival of medical results, following which we were called up as a group and told our visas had been approved and would be with us on Monday afternoon. (In the envelopes we had purchased for ten pounsd apiece)
I had hoped to write this entry on receipt of the visa. At this point, it’s 11am on Tuesday and it has yet to materialise. visadelivery.com claims it was dispatched at 6.59 this morning. Hopefully soon…
UPDATE: The visa packet (an envelope I’m not allowed to open and have to hand in at arrival, and my passport with the stamp) arrived at 3pm. Good job I changed my mind and didn’t fly out today!