I'm fiiiiiiinally making some progress on the whole 'pack up my life and move across the ocean' thing. I know, I know, it's just a teeny, tiny bit late when I want to leave in a month. Except, as you will soon read, not at all, folks!
Yesterday I made my way downtown Halifax to a little, giant, building called SomethingorotherIwasn'tpayingattention. The point of the journey was to register my finger prints for my visa. Yeah, they're hardcore in the UK. It even says on the website that if you refuse to give your finger prints you make your application invalid. My question is, what happens if you don't have fingers to print? Of course, as with all government websites, this information was not readily available. Okay, maybe it was, but come on, I have enough trouble trying to find the information I need. I'm not going looking for a headache when I have all eight fingers and two thumbs.
Anyway, I found myself surrounded by students, all of whom are set to start university in the fall. AND they're just getting their student visas set now! I'm beyond relieved to know I'm not the only person who got side lined by the whole, 'By the way we need your fingerprints but we only set up the east coast finger printing clinic once a month. SORRY.'
The whole process took about fifteen minutes. First, a woman goes through your application and asks you a few questions. She wanted to see my photos, and I definitely wanted to refuse. My photos are terrible. If I could think of a word that meant 'more than terrible' right now, I would use that. I look like a shiny, fat troll. I made her promise not to laugh before I dug the photo out, promising her that I look much prettier and more human-like in person. I thought she was going to stop breathing from laughing so hard at my photo explanations, but she managed to calm herself down long enough to tell me that no one's going to care how bad the photo is. Uhm, I am going to care when I can't use it to make people serve me alcohol. "Hey, if you're going to make a fake ID at least get a photo of a human!" is pretty much what I expect every bartender in the UK to tell me. Oh, and I'll care even more if it gets me turned away at customs. "Sorry, no troll people allowed. If you were a gnome or an elf, maybe, but no trolls."
Anyway, I made it past the woman no problem. On to the man with the English accent! He turned on a camera and asked me some questions. I congratulated him on managing to get my last name right. It's not a hard name to say, unless you're from my Scot-descended town. Then you're just asking too much because the first syllable isn't 'Mac'. This comment, as it usually does, turned into a conversation about how people mess up the easiest of names. His last name rhymed with 'Matter' but most people insisted it was pronounced 'Mater'. He asked me if I came from a French community. "Oh no, it's Scottish," I replied, and he gave me a sympathetic smile. "Ah yes, they'd have trouble for sure. With their rolling r's or whatever it is they do there." Fantastic! Beyond fantastic! Even if he was just being sarcastic, an English guy even pretending that he has no clue about the Scottish accent is hilarious.
The guy turned out to be pretty nice. He told me I should have applied for an ancestry visa, since my grandparents were born there. I told him I was having trouble getting the documents together for an ancestry visa, but he told me I should have an easier time getting what I needed once I was there. "Just apply for that one the next time, and then you can stay as long as you want!" He also insisted it was easier than the government website made it out to be. If you go through the male line you don't have to produce marriage certificates and stuff. Well, that certainly would have been nice to know before I submitted my Tier 5 application. SEE: everything I said above about government websites.
Oh well, with this one I'll be able to see if I like living in the UK before I go through the trouble/cash of getting an ancestry visa. ALSO, it's processed really fast. I should know whether or not they're going to let me stay on their island in about 15 days! Yay!
<3 Jade
Yesterday I made my way downtown Halifax to a little, giant, building called SomethingorotherIwasn'tpayingattention. The point of the journey was to register my finger prints for my visa. Yeah, they're hardcore in the UK. It even says on the website that if you refuse to give your finger prints you make your application invalid. My question is, what happens if you don't have fingers to print? Of course, as with all government websites, this information was not readily available. Okay, maybe it was, but come on, I have enough trouble trying to find the information I need. I'm not going looking for a headache when I have all eight fingers and two thumbs.
Anyway, I found myself surrounded by students, all of whom are set to start university in the fall. AND they're just getting their student visas set now! I'm beyond relieved to know I'm not the only person who got side lined by the whole, 'By the way we need your fingerprints but we only set up the east coast finger printing clinic once a month. SORRY.'
The whole process took about fifteen minutes. First, a woman goes through your application and asks you a few questions. She wanted to see my photos, and I definitely wanted to refuse. My photos are terrible. If I could think of a word that meant 'more than terrible' right now, I would use that. I look like a shiny, fat troll. I made her promise not to laugh before I dug the photo out, promising her that I look much prettier and more human-like in person. I thought she was going to stop breathing from laughing so hard at my photo explanations, but she managed to calm herself down long enough to tell me that no one's going to care how bad the photo is. Uhm, I am going to care when I can't use it to make people serve me alcohol. "Hey, if you're going to make a fake ID at least get a photo of a human!" is pretty much what I expect every bartender in the UK to tell me. Oh, and I'll care even more if it gets me turned away at customs. "Sorry, no troll people allowed. If you were a gnome or an elf, maybe, but no trolls."
Anyway, I made it past the woman no problem. On to the man with the English accent! He turned on a camera and asked me some questions. I congratulated him on managing to get my last name right. It's not a hard name to say, unless you're from my Scot-descended town. Then you're just asking too much because the first syllable isn't 'Mac'. This comment, as it usually does, turned into a conversation about how people mess up the easiest of names. His last name rhymed with 'Matter' but most people insisted it was pronounced 'Mater'. He asked me if I came from a French community. "Oh no, it's Scottish," I replied, and he gave me a sympathetic smile. "Ah yes, they'd have trouble for sure. With their rolling r's or whatever it is they do there." Fantastic! Beyond fantastic! Even if he was just being sarcastic, an English guy even pretending that he has no clue about the Scottish accent is hilarious.
The guy turned out to be pretty nice. He told me I should have applied for an ancestry visa, since my grandparents were born there. I told him I was having trouble getting the documents together for an ancestry visa, but he told me I should have an easier time getting what I needed once I was there. "Just apply for that one the next time, and then you can stay as long as you want!" He also insisted it was easier than the government website made it out to be. If you go through the male line you don't have to produce marriage certificates and stuff. Well, that certainly would have been nice to know before I submitted my Tier 5 application. SEE: everything I said above about government websites.
Oh well, with this one I'll be able to see if I like living in the UK before I go through the trouble/cash of getting an ancestry visa. ALSO, it's processed really fast. I should know whether or not they're going to let me stay on their island in about 15 days! Yay!
<3 Jade
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