American Idol

Yes. I felt like one of the contestants for the American Idol as I sat inside the air conditioned room of the US embassy this afternoon. I was there at 11:00 am but my schedule for interview was at 12:15. I waited inside the anxiety-filled room starting 11:30 am. I was coughing due to the heat from outside. If overdosing yourself with lozenges could happen, I would have been so high by 1:30 because I've already taken like 6 candies so far. And only after 4 lozenges did I notice that it was indicated in the pack that I was supposed to take just one every 2 hours. Good thing I wasn't intoxicated when the first 221g applicant was called. A 221g is given to applicants who have applied yet their application was pending because the consul asked for a document or additional requirement.

The two-hour wait was spent coughing, spitting at the comfort room sink, taking a leak, trying to read my reviewer, praying the rosary and daydreaming of the first time I will see Cefie again in 3 months. At around 12, I thought that the interview will start at exactly 12:15. Well, I was wrong. I had to wait and at 1, I thought the interview will start by 1:15. I already calculated the number of people ahead of me and I talked to God. I said that I hope I will be done with the interview by around 2. When window 12 didn't open by 1:15, I was already so cumbersome. But I was still good natured. What we didn't know was that we will be called in different windows because whoever issued you the 221 g will be the one to interview you again. I didn't know what time I heard my name called at Window 2. And so I saw her again, the pretty young consul who gave me a pending approval. I gave her the letter, she opened it, then excused herself. While she was gone, I was so nervous, and so I started praying. That was when I noticed the clock. The clock struck 2:00 p.m. Somehow, I felt that God was telling me something. The consul went back, asked me one question about my documents, and I answered with one sentence. She asked me to show her my documents and after a few seconds, without really flipping through them, she gave my papers back.

I held my breath as she started typing something in her computer. After the eternity of 10 seconds, she gave me the magical yellow slip and said, "Here you go." I said thank you, turned and never looked back.

I could just imagine myself jumping, yelping up and down outside the room with all of my supporters cheering as I show them my yellow slip. But this wasn't the American Idol, it was simply the elusive, hopefully not so disillusioning, American Dream.