The Interview

Lui was woken up at 3 in the morning by his ringing phone.

And it wasn’t his alarm.

Someone had been calling.

It was his dad.

He’d tried two times now, both of which were missed.

That’s when Lui remembered.

On his dad’s third attempt Lui picked up and with a hoarse voice answered, Hello?

Anak.. pano yan.. Denied kami ni mama mo.. (Son, what now, your mom and I were denied)

He was talking about their US tourist visa application.

He explained to Lui that the officers questioned why they were visiting the US before Germany, where both of their children now lived…

The officer just gave us back our passports and said, better luck next time, Lui’s dad recounted.

Lui could hear his mom in the background, talking with someone — she must be on the phone with her friend in the US, already reporting to her the news.

Knowing there wasn’t anything they could do now, Lui consoled his dad and told him at least they tried.

Will you still go to your appointment today? his dad asked.

Lui, by coincidence, also had his Visa interview that same day, only hours later because of the time difference between Germany and the Philippines.

Yes, I think so, it’s all scheduled now, Lui answered and his dad agreed.

At that point Lui’s phone rang again — this time it was actually his wake-up alarm, and his dad let him go to prepare.

Lui’s appointment at the US Embassy in Frankfurt wasn’t until 9:00 but he still needed to travel there from Stuttgart where he lived.

Half-awake and doing his preparations, he began to process the news about his parents’ Visa and how that changes everything they had planned for later that year.

At the request of his mom’s best friend (a friend so close to them that she was referred to as Tita by Lui and his sister), they had all decided to visit her in the US in November.

So months back, Lui’s parents had already requested for these vacation dates, prepared the requirements for the Visa (which included a letter of sponsorship from their children and an invitation from this Tita), and had just been waiting for their Interview appointment.

In hindsight, they really should have visited Germany first, Lui thought as he was on his way to the train station, streets still dark at 4:00.

Now it was too late to change the plans to Germany, as November was less than three months away, and they’d have to start over with a whole new Visa application…

Lui stopped thinking their options as he got on board his ICE train to Frankfurt — and decided to catch up on some sleep inside. The train was fairly empty and quiet and the seats were comfortable enough that he could lay his head on the side and rest for the entirety of the ride.

The sun was up when he reached Frankfurt yet getting off the train the air felt colder than earlier that morning — the warmth of the ICE train must have acclimatized him a little.

He still had 2 hours until his appointment so he decided to find a cafe close by to kill some time and perhaps go over his documents again. He realized he can’t even remember the exact dates of travel that they were applying for…

Lui was rarely in Frankfurt, and almost never outside of its Main Station…

Often he would go straight to Frankfurt Airport, when he needed to take long-distance flights that Stuttgart didn’t offer. The only other time he had been outside of this Main Station was almost five years ago now, just three months after moving to Germany, when he had to register himself as an OFW (Overseas Filipino Worker) at the Philippine Embassy.

Lui always thought that Stuttgart was very centrally located right at the heart of Europe which was why he loved it so much, but compared to other cities in Germany like Frankfurt, Munich, Berlin, or even Cologne, it was still much smaller and didn’t have certain establishments such as these consulates.

I’m more often to Paris and to the Alps, anyway, Lui reaffirmed himself.

But now walking out of the Frankfurt Main Station searching for a nearby cafe on Google Maps, he’s realizing that there wasn’t one close by. He clutched his bag a bit tighter with one arm, checked that his wallet was secure in his pocket with the other, then made his way out of the station. He’d been constantly warned about how unsafe Frankfurt had become these days…

It was early in the morning so the streets were still dead but Lui did notice that some alleys were more littered than others — more reminiscent of certain parts of Paris than of a typical German city.

He made it to the cafe without issues.

He marked on the Maps that Willy Brandt Platz, which was where the financial district and skycrapers began, was just around the corner from him now. So he must be past the dangerous area, he thought.

The cafe had just opened and some of the cakes and breads hadn’t been laid out yet.

From the available options, Lui ordered a piece of Zwetschgenkuchen (plum cake) and a large cup of cappuccino, then sat at a table where he’d be able to people-watch easily — if it came to a point when he had nothing else to do.

After finishing his cake he slowed down on his coffee sips so he could keep his table and go through his documents again.

He reviewed the information he had entered to his application form — none of which was false, but not everything he knew by heart either. For example, some details about his previous employment in Japan, or his education in the Philippines, or his social media presence, which was changing almost every month.

Have I posted anything negative about the US on Facebook/Instagram lately? He had to ask himself again. But no he couldn’t have, he stopped expecting highly of them for years…

It was in fact his Tito (that is, the husband of the aforementioned Tita) who taught him once via a comment on one of his Posts:

If you don’t live in the US,

you can’t speak on the politics of the US.

He could’ve argued with that statement, explaining how the US politics directly impact global economy and security, so the rest of the world have the right to say something about it, especially when you think about how we are all basically customers of the US market.

But out of respect to his Tito, Lui kept quiet about his opinions on the US ever since.

This also made him question — Do I even have a say on the politics of the Philippines anymore? Now that I haven’t lived there for many years now?

Yes, sure, he no longer related to the day to day situation of Filipinos at home, he was still a Filipino citizen, with rights and responsibilities for that country! (The fact that he was still applying for Visas to visit countries like the US was a costly reminder that he still owned a Philippine passport.)

He still sent money to his parents at home, which his parents then used to spend to the local economy, and sustain their needs — needs that changed depending on the economical, ergo political situation of the country.

He could keep going on justifying it in his head but the short answer was yes, he might be in the middle of these two worlds he didn’t live in, but they both affected him profoundly.

—

He left the cafe after an hour and took the U-bahn from Willy Brandt Platz to the American Embassy — first stopping by a kiosk to leave behind his bag and phone, as they won’t be allowed inside. He felt a little naked without his phone on his left pocket, where he always put it. He just had his wallet in his right pocket and the documents on his hand. He didn’t even wear any watch that day to tell the time.

The Embassy was highly guarded and Lui watched his every move, even the way he opened doors and the way he stood and put his arms on the side, so as not to look suspicious to anyone. Getting through the security check, the initial document check, and the fingerprint scans all went by smoothly and quickly —

Read this questionnaire and prepare your answers for them, then make sure to return it to the interviewer, the lady at the biometrics window told Lui, handing him a piece of paper. You may now go to your interview — that’s the long line there, she pointed to the other side of the big hall where indeed a long line stood.

Lui scanned where the line was leading up to and saw that there were four windows under the banner “Step 3: Interview” that each had a person in them. This must be the final step, he thought. There weren’t any other lines nor windows after it, aside for an open cashier at the far corner of the hall.

He went to the back of the line and realized that the interview was gonna happen through these windows — not privately in some room or desk. If he listened carefully, he could even hear how the other people’s interviews were going.

He looked at the questionnaire on his hand, there were four different questions that effectively were asking him:

Do you feel any sort of danger in your home country (Philippines) or country of residence (Germany) that might make you wanna seek asylum in the US? Okay, the latter part was not explicitly mentioned, but was clearly implied.

All No’s, Lui tried to remember.

Now he realized that the line was moving very slowly, and there were about 30 people ahead of him. They were all standing. And had no phones to kill time with. Lui didn’t even bring any book. All he had was his documents, which he was bored of by now, so all that he could do was look around this hall and observe the people around him.

The hall they were in was wide and tall, it felt like a primer for what he’d experience in the US. It had natural light shining through the glass centerpiece of its ceiling, shaped like a dome.

There were giant slogans on the walls advertising US tourism: Visit USA like never before, with images of beautiful nature, iconic monuments, impressive skyscrapers, and some foods which Lui could only make out to be Japanese food, which was confusing.

There was also a huge screen on the back side of the hall, running some ads and reminders — this prompted Lui to think about his itinerary to the US, in case asked. He had rough ideas of what he wanted to do and see but that might slightly change now, now that his parents will not be joining anymore.

He had planned for two weeks.

In California.

Entry point: San Francisco

Must see: San Francisco, Sacramento (which was where his Tita lived), and Los Angeles

Desirable: a day or two at one of the nearby National Parks

If possible: stop by Silicon Valley and some of the school campuses

It now felt too much for two weeks.

And he wanted to try all the different fast food chains too.

Experience a movie, a football game, and a concert there.

Explore their supermarkets as if they were a museum or art exhibit (on Consumerism, perhaps).

And be at the original Disneyland, the first happiest place on Earth.

Way before Lui was made aware of Europe (and even further before he heard of Germany), he had already been learning about the USA.

It was this Tita who sent them a Balikbayan box every year full of clothes, candies, toys, beauty products, and anything else they could fit into this giant box — turning the delivery of this box a major event in the lives of Lui’s family, at times their most anticipated day of the year.

Interestingly for Lui, it was the smell that came out of this box that always fascinated him the most. He could close his eyes today and recall the beautiful fragrances he got out of it, which as a kid he thought was the air of the USA.

In school in the Philippines, Lui also got the impression that the USA had saved them from the cruel rule of Spaniards who colonized them for almost 400 years, and then again from the Japanese during the Second World War.

“I shall return” by Douglas MacArthur evolved as a White Man Savior’s quote that every Filipino knows.

Only later did he begin to understand that the Americans’ occupation of the Philippines was not all altruistic. But was also self-interested.

Nonetheless their impact in the Philippine society had stayed. From the English language used in education and everything legal and business. To the media we consumed and favored, the beauty standards, and our economic model which catered BPO and OFWs, both of which served the American business.

As for Lui, oh how he patronized the US for most of his life. He became enamored by American movies, American music, and American books, he began to see through their eyes, listen with their ears, and think the way they think. As early as 8 years old, he wanted nothing more than to live and experience the USA, breathe their air, fulfill their dreams, and walk on their soils.

More than twenty years later, he still hadn’t made that dream come true.

And now it hangs on this interview transpiring in a few minutes, now that he was only five people away, he could almost hear the questions being asked to those before him from the windows.

What if he gets denied? Just like his parents?

Would he even be allowed to apply again?

As much as he dreamed of living in the US when he was younger, he had no intentions of that now… All he wanted to do was visit it.

But will these interviews see through his darkest, oldest, and deepest kept desires?

In the past five years since living in Germany, Lui began to realize that his values aligned more with the Europeans than with the Americans.

The way he valued work-life balance.

A more humanistic attitude toward business.

And the way he approached art.

How Europe favored bare human experiences and encounters than superhuman stories.

And how it understood that making your workers happy and giving them more agency is in fact the secret to growth in business.

If Lui wanted to do good work and make good art, he had come to realize that he’d be better able to do that in Europe than in the US.

Not that he wouldn’t want to see the US as well.

Its expansive landscape.

Its interesting albeit shorter history.

And for the sentimentality’s sake, all its art that Lui had loved and still continue to respect.

Even just for two weeks a year.

He was next in line now.

The one before him was done quickly.

He was called to the window.

The interviewer asked for the questionnaire paper, Answers to the questions? she asked.

Shit, Lui forgot if it was all Yeses or all Nos.

All Nos? The interviewer helped him out.

Yes, all Nos, Lui answered smilingly, I already forgot… He had been in line for more than an hour after all, deep in other thoughts.

How long have you been in Germany?

Almost five years now.

Purpose of travel to the US?

Just tourism.

Where in the US?

California…

Where in California?

Plan is to see San Francisco, Sacramento, and Los Angeles too.

For how long?

Just two weeks.

Answer only the question asked, don’t add too much, was an advice that he got from a friend.

She had a few questions about the nature of Lui’s employment and residence permit in Germany, making sure that he had an unlimited contract and a renewable permit.

First time in the US?

Yes.

Do you have family there?

No. (His Tita is almost like family now, but not by blood — so he didn’t add that)

Anyone else coming with you?

(The interviewer was focused typing on her computer the whole time she was asking these questions)

My sister is also planning to go… but that depends on whether she gets her Visa…

The interviewer nodded and suddenly turned surprised, Wow, you’ve been to so many countries.

She must have reach the point in my Application form where Lui listed all the countries he had been too — thanks to Schengen, even with a Philippine Passport and a German residence card he was able to visit nearly all 40 or so countries in Europe, all in the last five years.

Yea, Lui replied proudly, almost all in Europe now.

He had also been to most countries in East and Southeast Asia, he could’ve mentioned too.

But the interviewer had already moved on and asked him, Do you like your job?

Lui didn’t quite expect a subjective question, but replied honestly, yes, it’s pretty good here (relative to Japan and the Philippines, and perhaps the US too, was what he implied).

Congratulations, your Visa is approved.

You will get an email from us in up to two weeks.

Lui was a bit surprised to learn the result right away — most other tourist Visas he applied for had an element of waiting until the Passport is sent back to you.

Great, thanks, so we’re done now?

Yes, we’re done, have a great day sir, she smiled to him for the first time.

Lui felt a weight lifted off of him, a weight the size of the giant gates that had been blocking him from entering this dream country of his since he was eight.

A sort of validation from the Visa gods that he was in fact a person of quality, worthy of entering the lands of the greats.

And a lining up of what the rest of his year was about to look like — nightly planning out what will actually fit into these two weeks, watching countless Youtube vlogs and searching for tips in forums, maximizing his experience of America and turning those thousand little dreams into reality.

He took a sip of water from the drinking fountain he had been eyeing for the whole time he was waiting in line, exited the premises with a proud smile on his face yet was still unsure of how their doors opened, and for some reason, had a very strong craving for Japanese food.