D-Day: The Interview

Getting up was harder than ever. 5 a.m., brutal... A sharp jerk and I jump out of bed. Before my poor brain realizes I’m not planning on sleeping in like a normal person, I run to the bathroom.

I have a quick, nervous breakfast. No fear, but the tension won't let go. A quick check online, the weather is -4 degrees. Yeah... dressing as warmly as possible.

Naive of me) that was "summer" gear for a morning like this.

While walking to the subway with my friend, the wind cuts right through. No scarf helps; the gusts are sharp and icy.

But it’s beautiful outside, the sky is already brightening, streetlights are glowing. Moscow is waking up.

I immediately abandon the idea of repeating questions in the subway. No way, I’ll just forget the rest of my English and psych myself out. Headphones on, something intense... Yeah, "Comatose" is perfect. And maybe Modern Talking’s “Last exit to Brooklyn”. Very fitting ?

The route to the embassy is already familiar from our trips to the IEC.Exchange. At that stupid crosswalk (which doesn't exist! Anyone who’s been there knows), I spot three girls, also with folders in hand. Clearly for the Work and Travel USA program) We decided to take one bag for the two of us, 100 rubles well spent (to leave it in the agency’s car), but we kept the player to calm our nerves, a mobile phone to tell everyone about our joy (or, God forbid, failure) later, and other usual small things.

There are already a lot of people by the monument, standing in little circles, many alone. Everyone is shifting from foot to foot, some reading notes or sample answers, others acting tough: "I’m not scared at all." But the laughter is nervous.

It’s already cold. Warm tights, wool socks, and Uggs – clearly not enough. I can barely wiggle my toes. And this is just the beginning...

At 7:30, not a minute later... Uh-huh? Well, let’s say around 7:45, the IEC.Exchange team arrives. Vanya climbs onto the steps by the monument with a megaphone. Is it roll call time? No, just general instructions for now. A few times, our whole crowd, with pure sheep-like herd instinct, moves first one way, then the other. Why, by the way, no one understood. Someone went somewhere, and everyone decided they needed to go too ? let’s blame it on nerves)

The INTEX agency marched past in a column, at the end – a girl with a red sign. There aren't many of them. And they are heading in the opposite direction)

But we don't care about them anymore. They start handing out queue number stickers. Damn, I thought it would be alphabetical. According to the lists sent to us, I was actually 76 ? I ended up being 86. Proudly bringing up the rear of the long IEC.Exchange column)

Everyone was called by last name, you go out, they stick one number on your jacket (just like an Octobrist star ? ), you stick the second one on your bag or the folder with your phone and cards, hand those things over to the Center’s small car, and trudge to the "great and terrible" Embassy, to the back of the line, behind the previous number ? We were lucky, the other agencies went after us.

We shuffled in place, lining up straighter. You can't really run to friends in other parts of the line.

Then we finally move forward. Quite briskly, clutching our folders to our chests, just like a parade ? Those still waiting are chuckling from the sidelines. I found it funny myself) and that’s good. It breaks the tension a bit. Although, wait! I was right, as soon as we started freezing by the Chaliapin monument, there was no time for nerves. Calm as a tank? The main thing is to hold on.

From the side, our line looks like a snake. Now we are standing along the embassy building, the wind is blowing through, hands are freezing even in mittens. Good thing I didn't check my hat. Rare passersby discreetly look at our "procession". Yes, it’s us, a crowd of students rushing to the States for the holidays ?

We start chatting among ourselves; we’re clearly going to be standing for a long time. 3 girls behind me, they are from Volgograd, I think. They are worried, especially one of them. 5th year, although she has a job in Russia, everyone knows – they are a high-risk group. The organizers jokingly call them "VIPs" ?

Actually, respect to the organizers. We didn't have any of the confusion and irresponsibility that other agencies had. Some guys there managed to come without printed embassy memos, they were given ours! Some didn't even have their coordinators show up. Several Star Travel people nervously asked ours what to do and how, saying they were nowhere to be found. But we were constantly being "straightened out," collecting belts and other things that couldn't be brought in, and being instructed. And they just calmed us down a bit ?

Overall, it was cold. Really cold. I don’t know what time the first 10 people went in, but by 9:10 we were still only standing opposite the exit.

Ah, the first happy faces ? the lucky ones with last names starting with A are spilling out of the doors) Some with obvious relief, some smiling a pure Hollywood smile, some still in amazement that they actually made it. Naturally, questions. So far everything seems okay, the consular staff is in a good mood, the questions are simple, mostly where are you going, what will you be working as, where and what are you studying, etc.

We are standing quite cheerfully, joking, chatting, everyone telling how they are doing with their offer and so on.

The line moves in big jerks. Once – and we are almost at the mesh fence, a little more – the guard booth. He gives us back our Russian passports, which were taken from us earlier. Then we pass into a narrow passage by the embassy wall. The home stretch before entering the building. Here you start to get tense. Someone in line said, "The peak of nervousness is right before the interview windows, when you are next." Quite possible...

Another guard at the very door. Documents on the table, unbutton the jacket, hands to the sides. Checked with a metal detector, you can go in ?

Yes! The first sensation – warmth. Almost everyone exhales with relief) they were frozen through after all.

Again, a snake-like line. Is this a tradition here? From the hall, everyone enters the next room one by one, there, like at the airport, you put your outerwear through a "conveyor belt", some even their shoes if they managed to wear ones with metal buckles. You go through the metal detector yourself. The guard here is quite friendly. There is understanding in his eyes.

And then straight and to the left, a small hall with chairs, restrooms (well done, well thought out, many had already managed to regret that they had breakfast at all). We stand along the left wall, at first we think – for the interview. No, just for fingerprints. Around 10:10 I approach the window. I give the documents – international passport and DS-160, I place 4 fingers of my right hand in turn, 4 of the left, then both thumbs at the same time. That’s it, thank you, good luck. Thank you too ?

And then – the scariest part... we return to the hall with chairs, now in line along the right wall. This is already – to there... and on the left, other agencies are going for fingerprints. Nizhny Novgorod made a good impression, but their coordinator made us a little nervous by telling her people to definitely stick the embassy memo into the passport in addition to the DS-160, and to sign the DS-160 on the back. We nervously twist our documents in our hands, seems like it’s signed. We ask our coordinator. No, everything is okay, don't stick anything anywhere. Just as we were told – other docs only upon request. Don't shove anything extra.

Slowly, slowly, in jerks, we move forward. Nervously. Opposite the turn to the fingerprint windows, there is a staircase, or rather two. The first one – to the windows for immigrant visas, adoption, and for brides. The signs are funny ? at the top Adoption, then – Brides) We shuffle here for quite a long time, but finally we are on the steps of our own staircase. If you don't press your right shoulder against the wall and the railing, you won't get a visa))) ?

Translation: let the lucky ones who have already received their visas go out into the fresh air ?

While we are standing, you can see window #8. I think, well, that’s it, the home stretch. Past it again) Up, to the left – a hall with 5-6 rows of chairs, we’ll sit here for now. And ahead are the booths... They are half open, you can see the windows. Students approach, hand over the required documents, put the rest aside for now. At each window, there are hooks at waist level for outerwear. Convenient, otherwise you wouldn't have the capacity to hold them in your hands. You can hear some of the students' answers. Everything seems to be going well, most speak confidently. Even if not perfectly, about 3 minutes for each, sometimes 5. And for our waiting rows, something like Comedy Club is playing quietly on a large hanging screen. Not bad, helps to relax, at least partially. So, rows 3 and 4 went. Good luck, friend!

And we wait...

About 15 minutes and our 2 rows stand up in a snake line, this is really the home stretch, we see almost all the interviewers. We already know that there is a red-haired man in window 9, he is positive, and in 11 – a girl, she is sweet. Someone had problems at 13, but try to understand here, is it the girl’s fault, or the person who was asking her. I don’t know.

Aaah... help. Almost in line. There is a tremor. No fear, that’s good. But it would be better to hide the tension.

That’s it, I’m going.

Yeah, window 9. Well, for some reason I was almost sure. That it would be like this ?

Good morning! – I try with a cheerful voice. Smile – be nice. Coat on the hook, passport and DS-160 – into the window. The rest aside.

Good morning! – the smile seems friendly.

Looks at the computer.

How are you?

I really want to blurt out – What do you think?! A second delay.

Very good!

Are you Polina? – checks with the DS-160.

Yes, I am.

Where are you going in the USA?

I’m going to Savage, Maryland.

Where is city Savage?

Aaa... In Maryland – I spit it out, but what else does he want to hear?

Well, but is it on the beach?

Ah, that’s what it is. Damn, I don’t remember at all... Well, as it is.

I don’t know exactly where this city is.

Okay.

Then quickly and calmly about the university, where I study.

Yes, at RUDN.

What? I didn't hear the next question. He swallowed the first part of the sentence? I ask again.

Ah, the faculty. Well yes, sort of economics, but better? we have business and world economy!

I say in advance that My major is public relations.

Nods.

Then everything is easy and simple. What will you work as? – As a lifeguard. - Do you swim well? – Yes, I love it very much.

Nodded. Writing something in the DS-160. I don’t remember if that’s good, but there’s no time for that. I smile. Yeah, he put the passport away! He’s not returning it, so everything is okay)))

Yes, really? Smiles, the main words “Your visa is approved!”

Yes!!!

Thank you, thank you, have a good day, goodbye)))

You too)))

From the relief that covered me, it seems like you’ll fly away. Running to the exit, on the way to those still standing on the staircase – “Good luck! – Thanks!”

Yes, everything is okay) the coordinator is smiling, reminds me not to lose the DS-160.

Hurray, freedom!!!

I go out or rather run out to the street. The sun, the blue spring sky with light clouds, the center of Moscow, and ahead from behind the barriers my friend (already describing everything to her mom on the phone) and a bunch of students who came out before me are smiling at me.

We are going to the States, we did it, hurray-hurray-hurray!!!