|
|
| London, United Kingdom |  Review on June 20, 2013: |
rsd
Rating:  | Review Topic: IR-1/CR-1 Visa
Checked my phone at Gould's (three people in front, half a dozen behind. Talk about a racket), and strolled on to Grosvenor Square. There is a small obvious queue between two box shape outbuildings. At the end of which a greeter in a blue hi-vis asks to see your letter. I arrived at 7:30am, and there were already half a dozen people in front, but the line moved briskly, I could only see the queue becoming tedious with more than say thirty people in front.
You're directed toward a guard who hands you a clear bag in which you put any small belongings, and all metals (which for me meant holding my trousers up, as my belt was in said bag). The guard forwards you to the outbuilding to the right. You go through to where there are more guards and an airport style goods/body scanner (though not those godawful shower cubicle scanner things in U.S airports.)
You're then urged on inside the perimeter through yet another substantial door (I'm not a small guy. They're heavy enough the small lady in front had to literally put her shoulder in to it.) and you walk to the right around the perimeter behind the black fence.
There are armed police with sub machine guns, and that they have their fingers on the trigger guard says they're serious, and/or dangerously paranoid; though that didn't stop me making a quip to the gun wielding police man about how much of an unusual day it was holding my trousers up, while large coppers with guns strolled past, but apparently all humour is surgically removed upon employment).
You then go up some small stairs to a front desk where you present your appointment letter, and are given a number which they affix to your letter, by which you'll be called. Mine was I905. Once inside you sit at one of row upon row of uncomfortable seats. A composite screen (lots of smaller 32" LCD screens) forms a large television at the front of the hall, that silently plays state advertisements, and promulgates the idea of immigrant diversity in America. Beneath the screen is a small snack bar.
Many, many. many other visa types are processed around you, N-types seeming to be the most common. I waited around twenty minutes before being called. For some reason I expected desks, but they are post office/bank type booths with vague nods to privacy in the form of small walls at either side between booths. All but one I-type visa were called to another section of booths that lay to the right of those in the main hall just down a corridor. I was inside perhaps twenty minutes before being called to booth fifteen. They ask basic formal questions: are you telling the truth, what do you do, do you have x/y/z document, as well as taking my fingerprints via an electronic device.
I then waited forty five minutes to an hour before being called again, at which point it was a different (American chap) with a beard, who asked me to place my hand on an electronic fingerprint reader again. I was asked to raise my right hand and swear the information I was giving was the truth. I was asked:
Where does your wife live.
How old are her children.
When did you get married.
Where/when did you first meet (having been married almost seven years I had to think on this one).
How did you meet.
Why do you not visit each other more often (because flights are dear, and I have debts).
How do you stay in contact
Where in Texas does she live, where in that city does she live (I shrugged which didn't impress him).
Why did you not move to the U.S before now (because UK visas take six weeks, yours take nine months).
Then told you have your visa. Go to the courier desk. I went to the courier desk where I was robbed of another £15 in order to retrieve my passport with visa. Then I went home and drank tea.
(updated on December 17, 2013)
| |
|
Consulate / USCIS Member Review #12174