How I got here (part 3)
Whilst in Sacramento we had confirmation of our initial approval. What this means is that the local immigration office has found nothing that would stop me from applying and we have managed to fill out the forms correctly. They have now sent the application on to the National Processing office who double check the forms again and then they send it on to the relevant Embassy, in my case this is in London.
The next steps were as follows;
I had to fill out another set of forms (5 of them) covering most of the same information that I have already provided for the initial application.
I had to get my birth certificate. This involved much searching in attics and looking in boxes. I was surprised that my parents had kept it I was also worried as being born in Plymouth who knew whether I was actually ever given one.
I had to apply for my police record. Everyone I told that to made some terrible joke about the Sting led music group so, if that was your first reaction please keep it to yourself. I don’t even have a police record, but I needed to pay £10 and wait 40 days to prove this.
I had to have the aforementioned medical. This was with an approved doctor.
Finally I had to have an interview at the embassy. I found a website that had a list of the kind of questions that I may be asked. I have included here some of my favourites so that you can get a true flavour of what I went through:
How long have you known each other?
When was the last time you met? Where?
When are you going to travel to the US?
Have you ever been to the US?
All straight forward questions and ones I would expect but then they take a strange turn and seem to try and catch you out by being silly:
What is your birthday? What is mine!!!!! That is far too easy.
Do you have any brothers or sisters? Wow I like these questions.
Step 1 from above went relatively well I thought. The whole date fiasco from the earlier form filling out was not repeated and yet filling out the forms with the dates was still the hardest part. Of the 5 forms that I had to fill out 4 of them wanted the date written in the US format. I found this easy as I had been practicing for months. However, the 5th form wanted the date in the UK way, but having got into the groove with the US system I accidentally used that way again. This was the only problem though and luckily I had taken photocopies before I proceeded.
Step 2 was just as easy. I went home one weekend to my parent’s house in Cornwall, and they had already found my birth certificate, my medical records and had placed them inside a nice silver envelope to ensure I didn’t lose them.
Getting my police record was relatively easy once I learnt how you go about actually applying for it. The Metropolitan police website was relatively straightforward to use and even had a link to the form that I needed to complete. Unfortunately this link did not work. I eventually found tucked away a number to call and I spoke to someone there. Here is a transcript of the conversation as I think it will provide evidence of the type of people I have had to deal with throughout the process.
Me: Hello, I’d like to apply for my police record please.
Her: Have you returned your form to us?
Me: Um, no I need someone to send me the form.
Her: Hmph (big sigh) ok well if you give me your name and address I will send one out to you.
Me: Thank you very much. My name is Mr Nicholas Burr and……….
Her: Hang on let me get a piece of paper and pen.
Me: Um, ok.
Her: Ok what is your name?
Me: Nicholas Burr. Burr is spelt B-U-R…
Her: N-i-c is it with an aitch?
Me: Yes. Nicholas is spelt N-I-C-H-O-L-A-S and Burr is spelt…
Her: A- S. Ok and what is your surname?
Me: Burr – spelt B-U-R….
Her: B-U what?
Me: R-R
Her: R-R. Ok and where do you live?
Me: (number) a Whorlton Rd. Whorlton is spelt……..
Her: what?
Me: A
Her: eh?
Me: yes that’s right A.
Her: Ok and what road?
Me: Whorlton Rd, spelt W-H-O-R-L-T-O-N
Her: W-H-O-R- what?
Me: L-T-O-N
Her: Ok and where is that?
Me: Peckham.
Her: P-E-C-K-H-A-M?
Me: Yes. It’s in London.
Her: London?
Me: Yes. Spelt L-O
Her: I know how London is spelt!
The form arrived 3 days after this joyous conversation. I filled it in and the easiest thing to do was return it to a police station. There I could show them my identification rather than sending it off to the Central Criminal Bureau. I went down to Southwark Police station. I have never been inside of a police station before and it certainly was an eye opener, they are full of dodgy people presenting their driving documents or wanting to visit people in the cells. It wasn’t the most enjoyable experience I have ever had, but then neither was the next thing I had to do, my medical.
The next steps were as follows;
I had to fill out another set of forms (5 of them) covering most of the same information that I have already provided for the initial application.
I had to get my birth certificate. This involved much searching in attics and looking in boxes. I was surprised that my parents had kept it I was also worried as being born in Plymouth who knew whether I was actually ever given one.
I had to apply for my police record. Everyone I told that to made some terrible joke about the Sting led music group so, if that was your first reaction please keep it to yourself. I don’t even have a police record, but I needed to pay £10 and wait 40 days to prove this.
I had to have the aforementioned medical. This was with an approved doctor.
Finally I had to have an interview at the embassy. I found a website that had a list of the kind of questions that I may be asked. I have included here some of my favourites so that you can get a true flavour of what I went through:
How long have you known each other?
When was the last time you met? Where?
When are you going to travel to the US?
Have you ever been to the US?
All straight forward questions and ones I would expect but then they take a strange turn and seem to try and catch you out by being silly:
What is your birthday? What is mine!!!!! That is far too easy.
Do you have any brothers or sisters? Wow I like these questions.
Step 1 from above went relatively well I thought. The whole date fiasco from the earlier form filling out was not repeated and yet filling out the forms with the dates was still the hardest part. Of the 5 forms that I had to fill out 4 of them wanted the date written in the US format. I found this easy as I had been practicing for months. However, the 5th form wanted the date in the UK way, but having got into the groove with the US system I accidentally used that way again. This was the only problem though and luckily I had taken photocopies before I proceeded.
Step 2 was just as easy. I went home one weekend to my parent’s house in Cornwall, and they had already found my birth certificate, my medical records and had placed them inside a nice silver envelope to ensure I didn’t lose them.
Getting my police record was relatively easy once I learnt how you go about actually applying for it. The Metropolitan police website was relatively straightforward to use and even had a link to the form that I needed to complete. Unfortunately this link did not work. I eventually found tucked away a number to call and I spoke to someone there. Here is a transcript of the conversation as I think it will provide evidence of the type of people I have had to deal with throughout the process.
Me: Hello, I’d like to apply for my police record please.
Her: Have you returned your form to us?
Me: Um, no I need someone to send me the form.
Her: Hmph (big sigh) ok well if you give me your name and address I will send one out to you.
Me: Thank you very much. My name is Mr Nicholas Burr and……….
Her: Hang on let me get a piece of paper and pen.
Me: Um, ok.
Her: Ok what is your name?
Me: Nicholas Burr. Burr is spelt B-U-R…
Her: N-i-c is it with an aitch?
Me: Yes. Nicholas is spelt N-I-C-H-O-L-A-S and Burr is spelt…
Her: A- S. Ok and what is your surname?
Me: Burr – spelt B-U-R….
Her: B-U what?
Me: R-R
Her: R-R. Ok and where do you live?
Me: (number) a Whorlton Rd. Whorlton is spelt……..
Her: what?
Me: A
Her: eh?
Me: yes that’s right A.
Her: Ok and what road?
Me: Whorlton Rd, spelt W-H-O-R-L-T-O-N
Her: W-H-O-R- what?
Me: L-T-O-N
Her: Ok and where is that?
Me: Peckham.
Her: P-E-C-K-H-A-M?
Me: Yes. It’s in London.
Her: London?
Me: Yes. Spelt L-O
Her: I know how London is spelt!
The form arrived 3 days after this joyous conversation. I filled it in and the easiest thing to do was return it to a police station. There I could show them my identification rather than sending it off to the Central Criminal Bureau. I went down to Southwark Police station. I have never been inside of a police station before and it certainly was an eye opener, they are full of dodgy people presenting their driving documents or wanting to visit people in the cells. It wasn’t the most enjoyable experience I have ever had, but then neither was the next thing I had to do, my medical.
posted by Nick at 6:42 PM
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