The Good (Guatemalan) Life: May 2009

The night before: we couldn't believe it was really happening! It was something we had thought about, talked about and planned for as long as we had known each other... and tomorrow was the big day! We were nervous but as prepared as possible. We had vehicle titles, house titles, business patents, university transcripts, bank balances, etc. After having done our part, there was still a lot we didn't have control over. We were so thankful to be able to trust in God's power.

The morning of... even Kashpi, the neighbor dog, got up early to see us off!

My handsome Esa, folder in hand.

The birthday girl!

The appointment: (time for a little narration)

We arrived at the U.S. Embassy at 7:45 am. Esa's appointment was scheduled for 8:30, and we wanted to be at the front of the line! When we got there though, we found that for an occasion as important as this, the city was full of early-risers. We took our place and waited.
Around 8:30 someone led us all inside. On the way in Esa was assigned appointment number 81. That seemed like a lot since it was still so early! I had my U.S. passport and was crossing my fingers that they would let me go in with him and wait. They waved me on through but firmly told me I would only be allowed in the waiting room, not in the actual interview.
Once inside I left my cell phone and camera at the front desk (no electronics permitted), and we stood in the waiting room because all of the benches were filled with people.
We waited and waited. A man came around with baby wipes to clean hands because electronic fingerprints are required before going into the interview. We thought this meant we were close! Esa was pretty quiet. I thought he was just nervous, but he later told me he was rehearsing in his head (every possible question and answer) the entire time we waited.
A man began to call numbers: "40-55, come with me."
We kept on waiting. Then we tried to play some little games to distract ourselves.
After awhile we decided to go to the bathroom, which was a stroke of luck. The bathrooms were actually in the area where all of the interviews take place. The area consists of two waiting areas and a wall with about 10 windows. An interviewer sits behind the window and conducts the interview over an intercom. There is a scant space at the bottom of the window to pass papers back and forth. We were delighted to get a peek at the room that had haunted us for so long! Of course it was nothing like we had imagined. We also formed a plan. If they stopped me from going into the embassy with Esa, I would wait a little while, and then enter to "go to the bathroom."
The numbers called kept getting closer and closer. Until we finally heard "71-80!" It was almost 11:00 am.
We sat on the edge of our seats until they finally called "81-90!" Relieved, we followed our guide back into the heart of the embassy to wait some more.
At a little before 1:00 pm we were finally called up to our window. We had been watching the interviewers and had picked out the one we hoped to get: a kind looking young red-haired lady. Of course when it came right down to it, we got our last choice, the bristly-bearded white-haired suspender-wearing stern older man. After a quick glance at Esa's form he asked him (in Spanish) "Why on earth do you want to go to North Dakota? There's nothing up there! Or are you going to visit someone?" Esa gestured to me and said that he was going to visit me and my family. Then the interviewer asked, "where is Cando anyway? Is it close to Hatton?" I breathlessly ask him if I can speak in English. We go on to discuss his grandparents' farm outside of Hatton, our Norwegian heritage, lefse, ludefisk, Mayville State College, etc. After chatting for about 5 minutes, his coworker came and reprimanded him for getting off subject. He waved her away, talked a bit more, and then said, out of the blue, "Oh, and he gets a visa." You can't imagine my disbelief, relief, and excitment. I began elbowing Esa and whispering excitedly (but somewhat inconspicuously I hoped) to him. He then handed us the yellow ticket (the kind you get at a ball game for 50/50, except this one gets you into the U.S.A), asked him if he was going to finish school in Guatemala, recorded a couple of things in the computer, and sent us on our way. I think the only thing that kept us from jumping and screaming was that if we seemed to excited, maybe they could still take it away from us!

Talking to my mom on the phone... I knew how anxious she was so we called her before anyone else! She even got a little choked up.

Then Esa had to call his dad...

We ate a celebratory lunch (birthday and visa) at Tre Fratelli, a very yummy Italian restaurant. My dear mom treated us. :) Both of us smiled until our cheeks hurt, and we still couldn't stop.

I lost count of how many times I said that day, "Esa, you have a visa!" Both of his parents have tried to get visa's and been turned down, an uncle and cousin have also tried. Everyone in Guatemala wants a visa, and it's next to impossible to get one. What happened to us never happens. A famous tv reporter had her appointment ahead of us, and we watched the interviewer grill even her. We on the other hand didn't have to extract ONE paper from our well-prepared folder.