Thursday, August 17, 2006
*knock knock*
6:16AM. The doorbell rings.
I crawl out of bed, manage to wrap myself into my pink bathrobe, and open the door as far as the chain would allow me to. Two men are outside.
"Police.", they say. And then: "Immigration."
I scratch my dishevelled hair and stare at them blankly. It is 6:17AM.
"We are here to check if your wedding to Mr. Fiancé isn't just a sham marriage. May we enter, please."
I open the door, suddenly wide awake.
"Is your fiancé here?"
"Yeah... ummm...", I stammer.
"May we please meet him?"
"Yeah... ummm...", I stammer.
"Should we come back some other time?"
"Ummm... no... you are already here, may as well come in, we had to get up in a bit, anyway." I try to sound secure and not-at-all caught off-guard. I am thinking, it would look suspicious if I sent them away to come back at a later time... like I'd need time to prepare the apartment, and get The Fiancé here to appear like a real couple.
I let them in, and go get The Fiancé out of bed. We sit down at our dining table. One guy asks me for numerous documents, while the other one inconspicuously looks around the apartment. The Fiancé's 6-month visa has expired last February, but according to law, he is now legal again. I am not sure if the immigration law enforcers know that, so I sweat buckets as inconspicuously as possible, as the cop that first surveyed the room now flips through The Fiancé's passport while the first one asks me detailed questions about my income, and the size of my apartment. To see if it was big enough to realistically be home to two people, and to see if my income realistically feeds two people.
The answer to both questions was a definite yes.
The Fiancé sits demurely beside me, answering (harmless) questions in German as well as he can. 8 minutes after they knocked on our door the guy closes his folder, the other one hands back The Fiancé's passport, and they get up to leave.
"Everything seems in good order, here."
I get bold, and attempt a little joke: "So... no separate cross-examination? I was already mentally perparing for that..."
The guy actually cracks a small smile, and says: "Yes, we usually do that. But here is no reason to suspect that there is anything other than a normal relationship going on. We wish you a wonderful wedding, and good luck in your life."
...and they were gone as fast as they appeared.
Now I am paranoid as all hell that "have a wonderful wedding and good luck in your life" was just cop-lingo for "we will run a check on his passport and find out that he's been here without a visa for 6 months and the second before he opens his mouth to say his I dos we will burst in and deport him to the prison colony on Mars."
To make up for this, we went to our appointment with the official that will conduct our ceremony and legally make us husband and wife - provided that La Migra doesn't crash our wedding unannounced.
It was a very weird feeling to sit before the guy that has the power to transform me from A.K. into A.C-G., but wonderful at the same time. I felt some of the excitement that must be thousand-fold on September 9, and I reveled in the way he made our ceremony into something special with the authority of somebody who has wed many couples before in such extravagant and special surroundings as the ones we chose.
I now know exactly what's going to happen in which order, and we can make final decisions on the music we want to have played. It feels wonderful to have a definite idea as opposed to vague concepts and ideas.
3 1/2 weeks to go... what a special time in our lives...! :)
I crawl out of bed, manage to wrap myself into my pink bathrobe, and open the door as far as the chain would allow me to. Two men are outside.
"Police.", they say. And then: "Immigration."
I scratch my dishevelled hair and stare at them blankly. It is 6:17AM.
"We are here to check if your wedding to Mr. Fiancé isn't just a sham marriage. May we enter, please."
I open the door, suddenly wide awake.
"Is your fiancé here?"
"Yeah... ummm...", I stammer.
"May we please meet him?"
"Yeah... ummm...", I stammer.
"Should we come back some other time?"
"Ummm... no... you are already here, may as well come in, we had to get up in a bit, anyway." I try to sound secure and not-at-all caught off-guard. I am thinking, it would look suspicious if I sent them away to come back at a later time... like I'd need time to prepare the apartment, and get The Fiancé here to appear like a real couple.
I let them in, and go get The Fiancé out of bed. We sit down at our dining table. One guy asks me for numerous documents, while the other one inconspicuously looks around the apartment. The Fiancé's 6-month visa has expired last February, but according to law, he is now legal again. I am not sure if the immigration law enforcers know that, so I sweat buckets as inconspicuously as possible, as the cop that first surveyed the room now flips through The Fiancé's passport while the first one asks me detailed questions about my income, and the size of my apartment. To see if it was big enough to realistically be home to two people, and to see if my income realistically feeds two people.
The answer to both questions was a definite yes.
The Fiancé sits demurely beside me, answering (harmless) questions in German as well as he can. 8 minutes after they knocked on our door the guy closes his folder, the other one hands back The Fiancé's passport, and they get up to leave.
"Everything seems in good order, here."
I get bold, and attempt a little joke: "So... no separate cross-examination? I was already mentally perparing for that..."
The guy actually cracks a small smile, and says: "Yes, we usually do that. But here is no reason to suspect that there is anything other than a normal relationship going on. We wish you a wonderful wedding, and good luck in your life."
...and they were gone as fast as they appeared.
Now I am paranoid as all hell that "have a wonderful wedding and good luck in your life" was just cop-lingo for "we will run a check on his passport and find out that he's been here without a visa for 6 months and the second before he opens his mouth to say his I dos we will burst in and deport him to the prison colony on Mars."
To make up for this, we went to our appointment with the official that will conduct our ceremony and legally make us husband and wife - provided that La Migra doesn't crash our wedding unannounced.
It was a very weird feeling to sit before the guy that has the power to transform me from A.K. into A.C-G., but wonderful at the same time. I felt some of the excitement that must be thousand-fold on September 9, and I reveled in the way he made our ceremony into something special with the authority of somebody who has wed many couples before in such extravagant and special surroundings as the ones we chose.
I now know exactly what's going to happen in which order, and we can make final decisions on the music we want to have played. It feels wonderful to have a definite idea as opposed to vague concepts and ideas.
3 1/2 weeks to go... what a special time in our lives...! :)
