As I sit here writing these lines, I reminisce on a ten-year long uphill-climb that lead me to this day. Today, I received my ten-year green-card in the mail.
I can't help but think about the many roadblocks and defining moments that have marked this journey that wasn't always easy, but somehow seemed to make sense to me or else I wouldn't have put myself through this process.
Here is a collection of little thoughts and moments that pop into my head, every time I think about events small and big that were leading up to this day, today, where I hold this little 'permanent resident card', as it is officially called, in my hands. Contrary to popular belief by the way, it is not actually green.
I got here almost ten years ago now, on August 8th 2002, to start my year at Northwood University West Palm Beach, after having to visit the US embassy in Frankfurt for my visa. Back then, it was still in its old location in the midst of a residential neighborhood. This was, of course, less than a year after 9/11 and hence security was high. I had to park blocks away from the actual embassy and walked up to the building, finding German military tanks protecting the US embassy and sitting in the middle of the road of this otherwise almost suburban and tranquil neighborhood, right next to the botanical garden. Long lines were moving slowly and controlledly, snaking into the building as it is the famous American way of patience and discipline. I stood in line for about 10 hours that day to submit my paperwork for my 1-year-exchange bachelor's degree program.
Shortly after I arrived in West Palm Beach, and slowly started furnishing my room with regular student-grade furniture from K-Mart and Co, I got myself a little CD radio for my room. When trying to tune the local stations, the first one I found was "Sunny 104.3", a local soft-rock station with a lady called Delilah for a DJ, who would regularly do shout-outs to the Students of Northwood University. I remember feeling welcomed. The first song that played that night was "I'm already there" by LoneStar, sort of a country-pop-ish band from Texas. Every time from that day on, this song would bring me back to that moment, only days after I arrived here. I listened to that song tonight with a feeling of having come full-circle.
Northwood proved stressful the first couple of days. There was the lightning-fast-talking teachers, who were really hard to understand with their American accents at the beginning. And then there was the crazy-stranded-on-a-Caribbean-island-looking dude in my class from the Island of Trinidad. He had such a peculiar accent, always emphasizing the wrong syllable (for my British-English taught ears, anyway), making words sound so different and weird that the first couple of times I heard him talk, I would have sworn up and down, that guy is speaking some weird island language. And then there was the "all-American, sports-team captain-guy, who asked to borrow my pen and then threw it back to me, snarling "Thanks a lot, foreigner." Even though that hurt a little, I quickly dismissed that comment, thinking, obviously he feels threatened by the fact that he heard me speak another language and he never learned one.
I'll never forget Northwood graduation at the Kravis Center. My parents were there, and I was afraid to throw my cap up in the air, as is tradition after the graduation ceremony, worried that I wouldn't find it again, since I wanted to keep it as a souvenir. So I threw it a little, like half a meter or so. It makes me laugh to think back at that. After that I applied for my first work visa, started to work at a BMW/Porsche Dealership and moved into my first ever own place.
To be continued....
I can't help but think about the many roadblocks and defining moments that have marked this journey that wasn't always easy, but somehow seemed to make sense to me or else I wouldn't have put myself through this process.
Here is a collection of little thoughts and moments that pop into my head, every time I think about events small and big that were leading up to this day, today, where I hold this little 'permanent resident card', as it is officially called, in my hands. Contrary to popular belief by the way, it is not actually green.
I got here almost ten years ago now, on August 8th 2002, to start my year at Northwood University West Palm Beach, after having to visit the US embassy in Frankfurt for my visa. Back then, it was still in its old location in the midst of a residential neighborhood. This was, of course, less than a year after 9/11 and hence security was high. I had to park blocks away from the actual embassy and walked up to the building, finding German military tanks protecting the US embassy and sitting in the middle of the road of this otherwise almost suburban and tranquil neighborhood, right next to the botanical garden. Long lines were moving slowly and controlledly, snaking into the building as it is the famous American way of patience and discipline. I stood in line for about 10 hours that day to submit my paperwork for my 1-year-exchange bachelor's degree program.
Shortly after I arrived in West Palm Beach, and slowly started furnishing my room with regular student-grade furniture from K-Mart and Co, I got myself a little CD radio for my room. When trying to tune the local stations, the first one I found was "Sunny 104.3", a local soft-rock station with a lady called Delilah for a DJ, who would regularly do shout-outs to the Students of Northwood University. I remember feeling welcomed. The first song that played that night was "I'm already there" by LoneStar, sort of a country-pop-ish band from Texas. Every time from that day on, this song would bring me back to that moment, only days after I arrived here. I listened to that song tonight with a feeling of having come full-circle.
Northwood proved stressful the first couple of days. There was the lightning-fast-talking teachers, who were really hard to understand with their American accents at the beginning. And then there was the crazy-stranded-on-a-Caribbean-island-looking dude in my class from the Island of Trinidad. He had such a peculiar accent, always emphasizing the wrong syllable (for my British-English taught ears, anyway), making words sound so different and weird that the first couple of times I heard him talk, I would have sworn up and down, that guy is speaking some weird island language. And then there was the "all-American, sports-team captain-guy, who asked to borrow my pen and then threw it back to me, snarling "Thanks a lot, foreigner." Even though that hurt a little, I quickly dismissed that comment, thinking, obviously he feels threatened by the fact that he heard me speak another language and he never learned one.
I'll never forget Northwood graduation at the Kravis Center. My parents were there, and I was afraid to throw my cap up in the air, as is tradition after the graduation ceremony, worried that I wouldn't find it again, since I wanted to keep it as a souvenir. So I threw it a little, like half a meter or so. It makes me laugh to think back at that. After that I applied for my first work visa, started to work at a BMW/Porsche Dealership and moved into my first ever own place.
To be continued....
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