Wednesday, July 27, 2005
an hour off the soil of Singapore
I actually woke up excited. Or nervous. Or frisky. Basically if I wake up before my alarm sounds, it usually means something is happening. Like exams or competition or whatever, something out of the ordinary.
I put on my nicely-pressed shirt and pants, and made my way down to the US Embassy on Napier Road, reaching outside the embassy at exactly 9.00am.
And I thought I was going to be early. Or at least on time.
There was a freaking queue outside the embassy in the morning sun, along the pavement of Napier Road. All for Visa application. Like what the hell.
So I was trying to stay cool, not wanting to sweat in my nice shirt and I realised that the queue is moving very slowly (probably that's a self-consolation and an optical illusion, I doubt it was moving for the first 15 minutes). This tucked-in-white-polo-T-shirt-wearing chap in front of me (later learnt to be a businessman involved in some bio-chemical projects) was blabbering non-stop about.. er.. about everything! I'm glad for his "entertainment" but he's just reminds me of a gan cheong spider. Always over-zealous, looking over and seeing the queue, asking the security guard this and that, complaining that the Singapore embassy will never do this to anyone.
"It's a modern world!" He kept emphasizing. "How can this embassy treat us like pigs!"
Oh well. Then you start seeing the American citizens entering straight into the building via a faster and shorter queue. And all you can really say is "oh well."
And by about 10am, I was close enough to see the Security Office.
WHERE I HAD TO CLEAR FIRST BEFORE I CAN EVEN SMELL THE EMBASSY PROPER.
Went through the IC check, bag scan and body scan. Bag was opened wide and handphone (I was smart and didn't bring along) kept till people leave the embassy. I had a small bottle of water with me (I was so cautious that I even avoided bringing my SIGG bottle in case there's some complications with the metal), and he asked me to drink a mouthful of it.
"Regulations." He claimed, with rehearsed familiarity. At least he was nice.
金庸 would have recommended some 无色，无味，慢性毒药 with some fancy name like “七鸳破魂散” (this is a work of fiction by me), so that I can consume but still survive into the embassy and dealt out my 降龙十八掌...
"Ok-Clear-Go-straight-make-a-right-turn-and-you'll-see-the-room" He woke me up from my fantasy with a machine gun speed statement. I decided against saying "huh" and followed the directional signs.
And I was on American Soil.
Down the long passage I went, wondering why they haven't thought of shifting the security point further into the building so at least we can queue in the long passage way in this shade.
1) So I took a queue number.
2) Waited.
3) Called up for registration.
4) Waited again.
5) Noticing this group of stewardess and stewards wannabe looking people in the room. They probably are trainees or something, ladies with very heavy make up and lads with nicely combed hair. The height, built all matches. Scary.
6) Spotted Aloysus, at least someone to chat to! He's going for Masters.
7) Waited (did I mention that already?)
8) Called to the counter for interview (an anti-climax, I thought it was REALLY an interview)
9) Observed that I wasn't a terrorist-ish looking chap, asked some questions, took my fingerprints, let me go, without my passport ("Need processing" she says, not even looking at me)
And I was back on Napier Road, back on Singapore soil. But it's scary, the pressure inside, because there is this pressure for me to speak proper English, somehow, faced with all the American staff inside. I'm sure I almost slanged.
~~~~~
Well, I guess really. Bintan without a passport = Terrorist.
Have fun on my behalf guys =)
I put on my nicely-pressed shirt and pants, and made my way down to the US Embassy on Napier Road, reaching outside the embassy at exactly 9.00am.
And I thought I was going to be early. Or at least on time.
There was a freaking queue outside the embassy in the morning sun, along the pavement of Napier Road. All for Visa application. Like what the hell.
If I was a terrorist...
So I was trying to stay cool, not wanting to sweat in my nice shirt and I realised that the queue is moving very slowly (probably that's a self-consolation and an optical illusion, I doubt it was moving for the first 15 minutes). This tucked-in-white-polo-T-shirt-wearing chap in front of me (later learnt to be a businessman involved in some bio-chemical projects) was blabbering non-stop about.. er.. about everything! I'm glad for his "entertainment" but he's just reminds me of a gan cheong spider. Always over-zealous, looking over and seeing the queue, asking the security guard this and that, complaining that the Singapore embassy will never do this to anyone.
"It's a modern world!" He kept emphasizing. "How can this embassy treat us like pigs!"
Oh well. Then you start seeing the American citizens entering straight into the building via a faster and shorter queue. And all you can really say is "oh well."
And by about 10am, I was close enough to see the Security Office.
WHERE I HAD TO CLEAR FIRST BEFORE I CAN EVEN SMELL THE EMBASSY PROPER.
Went through the IC check, bag scan and body scan. Bag was opened wide and handphone (I was smart and didn't bring along) kept till people leave the embassy. I had a small bottle of water with me (I was so cautious that I even avoided bringing my SIGG bottle in case there's some complications with the metal), and he asked me to drink a mouthful of it.
"Regulations." He claimed, with rehearsed familiarity. At least he was nice.
金庸 would have recommended some 无色，无味，慢性毒药 with some fancy name like “七鸳破魂散” (this is a work of fiction by me), so that I can consume but still survive into the embassy and dealt out my 降龙十八掌...
"Ok-Clear-Go-straight-make-a-right-turn-and-you'll-see-the-room" He woke me up from my fantasy with a machine gun speed statement. I decided against saying "huh" and followed the directional signs.
And I was on American Soil.
Down the long passage I went, wondering why they haven't thought of shifting the security point further into the building so at least we can queue in the long passage way in this shade.
1) So I took a queue number.
2) Waited.
3) Called up for registration.
4) Waited again.
5) Noticing this group of stewardess and stewards wannabe looking people in the room. They probably are trainees or something, ladies with very heavy make up and lads with nicely combed hair. The height, built all matches. Scary.
6) Spotted Aloysus, at least someone to chat to! He's going for Masters.
7) Waited (did I mention that already?)
8) Called to the counter for interview (an anti-climax, I thought it was REALLY an interview)
9) Observed that I wasn't a terrorist-ish looking chap, asked some questions, took my fingerprints, let me go, without my passport ("Need processing" she says, not even looking at me)
And I was back on Napier Road, back on Singapore soil. But it's scary, the pressure inside, because there is this pressure for me to speak proper English, somehow, faced with all the American staff inside. I'm sure I almost slanged.
~~~~~
Well, I guess really. Bintan without a passport = Terrorist.
Have fun on my behalf guys =)
# rambled by Kenneth @ 11:05 PM 
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