Accidental journey

A series of accidents brought me to immigrate to the United States.  I was twenty years old.  I had just graduated college.  Eight of us (me and seven guys) from the same school had started their careers as trainees at the Ambassador Hotel in Bombay.  We usually worked split shifts - i.e. lunch and dinner.  None of us had much time between the two shifts to go home and be back on time for the second shift.  So, we hung out and did things that twenty year olds do.

One of my colleagues really wanted to immigrate to the United States.   So, one afternoon after our lunch shift, we all went to the American Embassy Center that assisted people to immigrate to the United States.  While our friend was researching opportunities in America, we caused enough ruckus for all of us to be kicked out..

Our friend was devastated.  He had lost his potential future and his dream. We felt so bad about the incident that we all went back the next day, apologized profusely, and every one of us filled out applications to Universities in the United States.  We had to take a test (TOFEL, I think). I got acceptance letters from all the colleges I applied to.

At this point in time, no one in my extended family had ever held a passport.  I don't even think anyone knew where the passport office was.  I had to figure it out myself.  The passport office wanted something called a photocopy - no clue what that was all about.  I spoke to some of the men who worked there and they helped me out with the mysterious quest for photocopy.  I remember holding my passport in my hand for the first time.  It was kind of cool - and I wanted to share the news with someone.  I really had no one to tell.   My family were not really taking my American adventure too seriously - and to be quite honest, neither was I.  I just went along to see how far I could take it.

Getting an American visa was definitely a interesting experience.   It was a long wait in the Visa office - and I remember the security guards checking my purse for lipsticks.  Lipsticks?  Odd! This was way before terrorism was even on my radar.  Some of the women waiting asked me all manners of questions.  They seemed to have a lot of information on the entire visa business and I no doubt came across as a clueless moron to them.   Two of them were ahead on me and they both got rejected.

The Americans were behind some kind of a glass barriers.  They asked stupid questions and I think I had a slightly belligerent attitude towards them.  I wasn't going to let some scared fool hiding behind a glass screen talk down to me.  Perhaps it was my ignorance or my attitude - but I got the visa.  I called home to share the news.  I had just been convinced by several women that this was indeed a feat.  My dad was supportive but clueless of my achievement.

So, I had admissions to college, a valid Passport and a visa.  Now what?  My grandfather, on hearing of my opportunity volunteered to pay for my airfare.  The American adventure was becoming a reality.  I had some savings and Mom helped with a little bit of money and off I was - seven days after my twenty first birthday, I moved to the United States of America.