One more hoop jumped through! In many ways, this was the last step, though I'll actually feel like the business of this week is over when Toni picks up his visa tomorrow and delivers it to me along with the sealed packet of documents that we'll need when we go through immigration in Chicago on Saturday. We will have supper with Toni tomorrow night and receive all of the documents that we need. *Then* I'll feel like we're on our way home.
Having spent an entire semester studying the Finnish Embassy while we were in graduate school, I had a heightened sense of excitement about being in a "real embassy." ;) I know that sounds kind of silly. ;) But there was a definite sense of solemnity about the whole business that was satisfying. Before we could even enter the building we had to show our passports at a little window, and were asked, "Where is Matthew?" I replied that he was back in Minnesota with the other children. That was satisfactory. Then we were allowed in, and went through a security check just like in an airport, and then through a courtyard to another building where we had to check in. I love the notion that here in Bulgaria I was standing on what is considered US soil.
The interview itself was a short formality, and mostly was helpful information about what to expect when we get back into the US. And then back to Bulgaria we went!
I think I hear Owen and Dondi getting off the elevator with our pizza. ;) Late lunch today.
I had a heightened sense of excitement about being in a "real embassy."
ReplyDeleteWe were not admitted into the embassy in Iceland on our honeymoon -- we passed it on the way to where our hotel was supposed to be, and when we absolutely positively could not find it and had no way to call the phone number that we had, ,we figured "aren't embassies and consulates supposed to help out citizens in a bind?" so we went back to the embassy. They looked at us very suspiciously, and eventually one of the guards took the phone number, went in, and called on our behalf.
I've been in the embassy in Amsterdam a number of times, to get new pages for my passport, to apply for Gwen's passport, to pick Gwen's passport up (that last time was interesting; it was our final trip from Amsterdam back to Tilburg after moving, which meant that I had Joel's coffee grinder -- complete with coffee beans -- in my bag. They were *unhappy* about that, and I wasn't allowed to take it through security. The embassys in Amsterdam are mostly all in converted merchant homes, near the Rijksmuseum. They don't look particularly embassy-ish from the outside, unlike some I've seen in other cities (e.g., Berlin).
Dunno about Frankfurt, I was able to do everything with my passport and them via email and snail mail.