The Waiting Game

I had to go to the US Embassy today. I don't know why, but I was really nervous about it. I knew in this post 9-11 world, it would not be as easy as I remembered in Japan in 1994 or whenever I went before to get extra passport pages.

On Sunday night I had bad dreams about going. Last night I didn't sleep well because I didn't want to miss my 9:45 appointment.

I got up at 8, and wasted time on Facebook so that my plan to get out of here by 9 didn't quite work out. I did leave by 9:15, walked to Paseo del Prado to catch a taxi, thinking that from there it would be the quickest route. It was, but there was still a lot of traffic and all of Madrid for some reason seems to be getting torn up - there is street construction everywhere.

I arrived at the "fortress" at 9:45 exactly. I had to go through a metal detector, check my bag, pass through another set of doors, and finally entered a medium sized room that was filled beyond capacity. A lot of people were sitting waiting for their turn for interviews so that they could get a visa to visit the United States. Others were standing because there were no seats. A very fertile couple sat with their two little girls and an infant (and I overheard the girls talking about their sister who was in school). The kids were noisy. People were coughing. It was hot. I could not sit down because all of the seats were full.

A little beep would sound each time a new number flashed up on the board telling those who were waiting which window to go to. I finally figured out that there was one particular window that was handling the Ds. My number was D411. All of the other numbers started with A, and they seemed to be foreigners (mostly Spaniards, but some others) who wanted a US visa. There were two other windows on the D side that were empty. A group of people stood looking at a computer screen. I suspected that group of people was supposed to be doing other jobs and was one of the reasons why things were moving so slowly.

Every time someone went up to the D window, what could have been a simple procedure seemed really complicated. Lots of questions were asked, back and forth, and the process took about 10 minutes per person. Then the lady behind the glass would disappear, and return in about 5 minutes and call someone else up.

I watched as the numbers moved - D407, D408, D409. And then the lady disappeared for a long time.

Another woman came and sat behind the glass. D410. It was a young woman and her husband. She had lost or had her passport stolen. She had no ID and had to fill out some forms. There were a lot of questions back and forth. I stood patiently waiting my turn, thinking that maybe I should have asked for the form I was supposed to fill out before my turn. I tried printing it at the Locutorio last night, but their printer was running out of ink and it had a big white stripe down the center. Finally, at about 10:30, my number appeared.

I told the woman I needed more passport pages. She snapped at me - "Did you make an appointment?" - Yes, I had. I added that my appointment was at 9:45, letting her know subtly that they were 45 minutes behind schedule.

She took my appointment paper which wasn't really necessary because she had my name on a paper in front of her. I don't know what good my appointment was because I still had to wait.

Then she asked if I had filled out the form. I showed her the form I printed and she gave me a new one, then told me to step aside and fill it out.

I was really worried that I would then have to wait for D412 to take 15 minutes asking and answering questions plus the 5 minutes for the woman to disappear and return and finally get my turn again, so I rushed through the form, making lots of mistakes, being very sloppy and forgetting some information, but in a few minutes I was back at her window, where she asked me what some illegible numbers were and had me fill in the missing information.

Then she told me to wait and I would be called back when my passport was ready.

And so I waited, with the two very talkative little girls and the crying infant and the amazing number of people who had had their passports stolen (including a Mormon missionary) and all of the other people who were waiting to get their visas to go to the US if they passed the interview. I don't know why anyone would visit the United States if they have to go through such hassles. I would just go elsewhere. I think visitors to the US should have a gold carpet rolled out for them. If Americans had to go through such hassles to visit Europe, you know we'd be up in arms. I am traveling freely through Europe without needing a visa or even having to show my passport when I go from one country to another. Why are we such pricks about the whole thing?

And so I waited. One of the other windows now had a woman working (sort of). She was the one who was calling people up for their second call, in some cases to sign a form, in others to give them their new passports. I watched as D407, D408, D409, D410 were called. I was next. Then D414! For some reason she skipped me. And in the middle of all of this she kept floating to other windows to help people with technical problems, like the one where the lady was getting fingerprinted but our high tech fingerprinting machine was malfunctioning. At other times she was just chatting with people and sometimes she was just staring at her computer screen.

I could not believe it was taking this long for them to just put extra pages in my passport. I know how it works. It's a little booklet of extra pages and they just tape it in the passport and stamp it saying that extra pages have been added. How long could that possibly take? Why were people who were getting brand new passports being served before me?

I was going to ask but the woman disappeared for about 15 minutes. I assumed it was her break time. This was worse than the DMV.

When she came back, she entered a new number and above her window the numbers D416 appeared. I quickly went up and showed her my number and asked if somehow I had missed hearing my number. She said she didn't have my case. She asked someone else, and that woman asked someone else. The woman who originally helped me came over and finally she called me back to her window. It seemed that she had had my amended passport for quite some time.

Two very aggravating hours later, I left.

I walked back towards Plaza del Sol and wanted to see if I could find Chueca, the supposedly gay area of Madrid. I think I was in part of Chueca yesterday. There were lots of fashionable clothing shops along a pedestrian street, but I knew there should be more. Where there are gays, there is always something good going on - be it fashion, food, bars, architecture, etc.

I walked along the Paseo Castellano - a major tree lined boulevard that was mostly torn up by construction. I wonder what it is they are doing. Dodging jackhammers and bulldozers and taking detours, I finally decided to get off of that street and see if I could find Chueca.

I passed through some interesting neighborhoods with bakeries, fish markets, produce markets, etc., and finally came to where I was yesterday. I'm still not sure if I was in Chueca, but I liked the area more than where I am staying. It seemed more authentic and less touristy.

I came to the Gran Via, another major street and was really hungry at this point since I hadn't had much of a breakfast. I was hoping along my walk home to find something quick to nibble on because I have a lot of lentils in my fridge. But as I passed one restaurant that had a daily menu that included a hamburger, fries and a beverage, my hunger gave in. I walked in and sat down and looked at the menu, all set to order a bacon cheeseburger.

Then I noticed that the menu was valid from 13:00 to 16:00. It was 12:50. I had ten minutes to wait before I could order the menu.

I thought I would try anyway, since it was only 10 minutes. The waitress came over and I asked if I could order the menu. She told me after 1:00. I said, "it is only 10 minutes". She said I could order individual items from the menu, but the set menu was not available until after 1:00. I told her to forget it.

I left, thinking how stupid it was that she would not let me order the set 10 minutes early and had lost a customer.

It was turning out to be an entirely unpleasant morning.

I continued looking for a place to eat and finally came upon Miau, a restaurant a friend of a friend recommended. It's on Plaza Santa Ana, which is right down the street from my building. I looked at their menu and it looked good. I ordered pinto beans and grilled salmon and a glass of white wine. The pinto beans were actually bean soup with ham and chorizo. It was really yummy and not super salty like other things I've had here. The salmon was great. It had a little garlic on it and was grilled perfectly. I really enjoyed the meal except for the cigarette smoke in the restaurant. I realized that I was probably not aware that they allow smoking in restaurants in Spain because in Seville I never went inside to eat. I think it is disgusting and is so 1980's - I mean it goes back to before we even had smoking and non-smoking sections.

And now it's raining. I might straighten up my apartment a bit, look at my map and try to figure out where Chueca is and what to do if I go there, and take a nap. Maybe now I can sleep, now that I have extra passport pages and I don't have to worry about the Indonesians turning me away because there is no room for my visa (this is why I was so worried about the whole thing).