As I reflect upon 2009, it’s easier to use pictures, so here is 2009 in review…
Citizenship
Currently, I am sitting in the Federal Building in Hartford, CT. Hubby is in an office, being interviewed to become a US citizen. This was a looooong and expensive process.
When we got married, I just assumed hubby automatically became a dual citizen of Trinidad and Tobago and the United States of America. Ha, ha… not so much. I am now very familiar with the immigration process. Hubby came to the states as a student, and therefore had an F1 visa. Once he began working fulltime, he then was sponsored by his employer for one year, and held an H1 visa.
While we were working before business school, I “petitioned” for hubby to become a permanent resident on the basis of our marriage. We filed lots of paperwork and paid hundreds of dollars in application and biometric fees. Hubby was fingerprinted, and then after a long looooong wait of several months, we finally had our interview. We brought in with us about three trees worth in timber in paper: marriage certificate, bank account statements, a copy of our mortgage, joint tax returns, utility bills, my birth certificate, my passport, his passport, passport style photos, a medical examination, selective service registration, Amari’s birth certificate, photos of us together, and the list goes on! There were about three forms totalling well over one thousand dollars in application fees.
After the interview, we waited patiently for hubby’s green card to arrive. When it did, it was right on time because we were applying to MLT and you have to be a US resident to be considered a fellow. It was also perfect timing because hubby was eligible for the Consortium and Federal loans. After hubby had his green card for two years, we had to apply to have his “conditional” residency removed. This was because when you file on the basis of marriage, you have to prove you’re still married after two years. This meant another application, more paperwork, photocopies, certified copies, notaries and oh yeah, you must not forget, more money.
Once this stage was complete it was smooth sailing. Hubby could go and come as he pleased into the states without having to worry about any kind of visa. Somewhere along the line, we decided citizenship would be a great option for three reasons: 1) Hubby could sponsor his mom to become a permanent US resident. 2) He could vote to re-elect Obama, and 3) We would now meet the qualifications to apply for the Amazing Race.
So, several months ago, maybe in April, we applied for citizenship. This was another application, about $600, another biometric fee and fingerprinting. We quickly heard back and received the confirmation letter that his interview and test was for today. The test consisted of US history and economic questions, like name the first 13 states, who is your state representative, and who wrote the Declaration of Independence (I believe I would have failed).
Hubby and I stayed up late last night quizzing each other (well, really he was quizzing me because I was so fascinated by the questions). We drove the hour and a half drive to Hartford, CT this morning, equipped with an armful of documents proving our “marital union.” Hubby was called and he disppeared into a room in the Federal building. He immerged with yet another date, for his oath ceremony.
In case you thought the process was quick and easy, please think again. It is extremely costly and requires patience. Thankfully, hubby will soon be the rightful owner of a passport for the United States of America. Yay!
Train Stopper
Today we visited our old home in Harlem to turn in our apartment keys. We planned to take the 9:45 AM metro north train into the city, but that was only going to be possible with some hustling. Amari ran down Washington boulevard to ensure we would make the train, and I followed close on his heel pushing Joshy in the stroller.
My dear, trini husband, however, casually strolled down the sidewalk with an ease as if he were sipping mint julep tea on a warm July evening. I, while running, picked up Amari and bustled past the crowd which had just exited the very train we were trying to board. We flew up the upstairs, onto the platform and jumping on the train which was calmly waiting for us on the platform.
The metro north is NOT the NYC subway, and their doors do not bounce open after you jam your foot in the way, as I found out while trying to hold the door for hubby. He was no where insight, and the boys and I couldn’t get off the train.
Oh well. The doors were shut and the train was moving. My iPhone was unconscious, and has been since Sunday, so there was no way to call hubby and make plans to meet up. A very nice passenger alerted the conductor since I was looking a bit agitated and flustered. The next thing I knew the train was stopping and the conductor was letting us off. Clearly, he knew better than to keep an upset black woman with two young kids on his train, so he kindly pried open the door.
As I peek onto the platform I saw hubby and yelled for him to hop on. Can you believe they stopped the train? I mean, it had pulled out of the station already. The metro north usually runs like clockwork, but for my hubby I am willing to stop trains.
So, we ran a billion and a half errands, and on the walk back along 125th street hubby snapped a photo of the Michael Jackson memorial. Bye bye, New York, and officially, Welcome Stamford!
Toots or get off the pot
I must start off by saying that my husband brings a whole new language into our home. During my first visit to Trinidad in 2002, I learned about the book, Cote Ci Cote La, which “is an entertaining and educational illustrated dictionary that is the key to understanding the spoken dialect of Trinidad and Tobago.” My favorite words and phrases in the book are gyurl (which is pronounced “ghial”) and cuttin style. He has terms for everyday nouns that I have included in my speech after listening to him over the past seven years. For example, he calls a plane an airbus, and lotion cream, and shorts “short pants” and so one. So, when I started referring to going #2 as toots, it just seems normal. Now, on with the story…
Every night, after we have safely tucked in Amari to bed, the slew of excuses begin. They start off petty, “I need a hug, I didn’t kiss daddy.” They progress to action items for us, such as “Read it again,” or “I want my water!” The final string, and his most desparate, yet effective way to get out of bed is to say he has to go to the bathroom. He says he has to toots, and then sits on the toilet for five minutes, says its not coming down and then goes back to bed. This cycle repeats two or three times, until finally last night I heard myself say “toots or get off the pot!”
Eventually, he did NOT go to the bathroom- it was all a guise. He complained about monsters in his room and requested that the light stay on, and finally, finally stayed in his bed.
