1 month instead of the 6wks to 3 months that they warned

Thursday 11th June. 
Approx 10am.
I’m working on the computer, as in actually doing work.

Mom’s cell phone rings. Oh, she must’ve left it here by mistake.  I’ll let it go to voicemail. 

A few minutes later, it rings again.  Dad shouts from upstairs that I should probably answer it.  I do.

“Hello, Kimberly’s phone.”
“Hi, is Stephanie there please?”
“This is Stephanie.”  Who the crap is calling me?!
“Hi Stephanie, this is Nora from the British Consulate General, I’m calling about your visa application.”
“Oh, ok…”  -heart drops into stomach- Oh gosh, what’s wrong? What did I miss??? 
“I just wanted to let you know that your application has been processed and your visa has been granted.”
“Oh!!! WOW!!!” [leaning over to put my head between my knees so as not to faint but also trying to jump up and down so nearly falling over anyway]
“We sent out an email, but sometimes they don’t go through right away, and you submitted so much information – it seems like this has been really hard on you, so I wanted to let you know straight away.”
“WOW!!!  THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!”  -heart back where it belongs, but now melting- What can I give you to express my gratitude?  My right arm? My first born child?!

She went on to tell me that everything was ready for me to pick- up and collection times are 3-4pm Mon-Fri.  I made some more squeaking thank you noises and then said goodbye.

I replayed the entire conversation for Dad.  Tried to call Ush.  Stupid tracfone wouldn’t let me. Texted Ush in ALL CAPS OMG I’M COMING HOME BABY!!! Mom came home and I replayed it again. 

And then I spent the rest of the day driving down to Chicago with Dad, grinning like a fool and feeling so incredibly thankful.

(I’m staying a further week so that I can see my brother next weekend, then I’m flying out on Monday 22nd, to land in London the following morning.)

They say these things happen

Ok, I didn’t mention this in yesterday’s farm post because I was too sad.  But one of Mom’s goats died.  Jamoke. 
He had seemed unwell for a few days, and so Mom’s friend (who has kept goats for over a decade) came round with some medicine.  Unfortunately it didn’t help and Jamoke died during the night that night.

I’m still sad about it, because he was my favourite of the two.  (He was more interested in people; food came second.  If I bent down over him and made this little sip-sip-sip-sip noise, he’d nibble on the tip of my nose.  It was just really sweet, and he was a sweet boy.) 
Anyway, so we knew that we couldn’t keep Ngozi on his own because he’d be too lonely.  After weighing several options, Mom spoke to the lady who she bought the goats from and this lady offered her a male who was born a week before Jamoke and Ngozi. 

Meet Tank.

Mom had another Nigerian name all picked out for him, but soon abandoned that when it became all too apparent that the name he’d been casually referred to as was just too fitting!  So Tank it is.

He’s doing alright so far.  Normally baby goats are taken from their mother straight away and bottle fed.  But they missed their chance with this guy, apparently, and he was only taken from her last week.   So he doesn’t take a bottle, which is okay because he doesn’t need it, but it’s a shame because he’d enjoy it.  So he’s adjusting fairly well to his new home.  He craves attention and company.  I took them out this afternoon and he was really good at following me!  Even came up the stairs to the porch when I was headed in to get my camera.

After which point I took this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ynhv3-GxIvo

PS - I’ve decided that Ngozi should be named Tubs, because he’s a greedy little piggy who would spend all day eating if he could.  We’re already in the habit of calling him Ngozi, so Tubs/Tubby can be his nickname. (As if it matters!) 

I can blog more after I’ve been deported

Ok, so I’m obviously not being deported, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, it’s busy around these parts. We’re busy out of necessity and also trying to keep busy to make the most of the time left before I leave. It’s a tiring mixture, but worth it. Here are some thoughts.

1.) Lawyer stuff is all wrapped up – done and (cringe) paid for. There’s no way they will say no, it’s just a matter of how long it takes them to say yes.

2.) Nate and Rochelle were here for several days which was really just beyond awesome. So wonderful having them here, being able to show them around a bit, and did I mention just having them here?! I’m so glad the weather was so lovely for them and that they got to do most if not all of the cool things they wanted to do.

3.) One more day at RA. We’re having Thai food to mark the occasion.

4.) I still figure WoW (and Bejewelled too) can just f*** right off. I will never truly forgive Anthony for introducing my husband to that life-sucking, soul-destroying game. (And of course, I’m referring to my life and my soul.)

5.) We tried brushing the dogs’ teeth for the first time tonight. Sadie didn’t mind the brushing, but it was tricky with her tongue going nonstop licking off the chicken-flavoured toothpaste. Toby was not as impressed. He didn’t mind the taste of it, but did not want that brush in his mouth and kept his jaw/jowls clamped shut as much as he could.

6.) Even though they’re only around for such a short time each year, lilacs are so worth it.

7.) We’re hosting a bbq this weekend. Hoping the rain stays away.

8.) I’ve had boogie fever lately and would really like to go out at some point this weekend. My kitchen just isn’t big enough and the bass on my digital radio isn’t all that impressive.

9.) I’m not only neglecting my blog. I have 43 unread items in my Google Reader, and that’s after several instances of clicking “Mark All As Read” on a few very frequent posters.

10.) Over the weekend we were down in Worthing for Dom and Jojo’s wedding (and so Ush and Mumcuss could play the reception). Both occasions were equally thrilling, I have to say! I officially love the O’Briens and the boys of Mumcuss rock pretty dang hard. And Worthing is quite a lovely little town – seriously, how incredible is that ocean?! Standing on Worthing Pier, I couldn’t help but wonder what the H we’re doing living in London when there are towns with views like that.

a bittersweet symphony

I’m flying out in a few weeks. Haven’t booked it yet, but that’s the tentative timeframe. (Probably putting it off because that is what makes it really real. But so what if I wait a bit longer and it’s a bit more expensive? We’re already losing such a significant chunk of our deposit, what’s another 30, 40, 50quid?)

(Ugh. This is the most expensive mistake I’ve ever made.)

It’s true, I am definitely going to enjoy being at home with my parents. Possibly going to see my brother and meeting the girl who has captured his heart. Seeing friends who I normally only see once a year. Visiting relatives in Iowa and Nebraska. It’s going to be absolutely wonderful.

But despite knowing that, this isn’t a vacation that I’m looking forward to like one normally would. It’s incredibly bittersweet, because I’m in this thing called a marriage, a partnership. Which means that we do things together, by choice, because we love each other and genuinely want to be in each other’s company.

And he won’t be there with me. So every single day I’m away, I’ll wish he was there with me. Every fun thing I do will be slightly tainted because he’s not there to enjoy it with me, or he’s not there for me to tell him about it when we’re laying in bed at night.

I’ve been praised for being so upbeat and optimistic about this whole thing. And I try really hard to be, but today I’m not. Today I’m just sad, already anticipating how much I will miss him.

So I will just pray, before I even leave, that my application will be at the top of the pile, and that it will be processed and decided quickly.

I know I’ll be in the States for at least three weeks, and I am happy to accept that, I’m even grateful for it. But I don’t want to be there too much longer than that.

It’s all just very bittersweet.

Update (shmupdate?)

Here’s the update Ush posted on Facebook, after visiting the solicitor and spending a few days letting reality sink in…

———————————————————————————————–

So – we saw a solicitor. Very ‘interesting’, bright, funny, blunt lady – and obviously good.

The crux of it:
She would fight for us and scream and shout and yell if that’s what we wanted. But she said that that could take months and in her experience wouldn’t have a positive outcome for a long time. In the meanwhile we would be separated and lose a LOT of money from lack of work, rent, her fees, etc etc etc.

Have to make the choice of “making a point” and “making a stand” OR “getting it fixed”

The quickest way to get it fixed is to keep schtum, Steph go to the the USA, reapply and restart her 2 years temp visa again.

She also said that our situation really isn’t THAT bad and has a lot of “ifs” in it. “If Steph had nowhere to go in the USA she would be homeless” (but she does) – “If I had no savings I would be screwed” (But I do) – “if we had a bastard landlord” (we don’t) – “if our jobs weren’t with good bosses” (They’re great). All of that stands against us making an argument, and that makes sense really – we can’t base our case on ifs………..

“your honor – IF I was raped then this would be illegal!!!!”
“That’s true – sorry I rule in favour of the defendant – regardless that it was consentual”

It wouldn’t work. Add to that it’s our fault for forgetting. The govt didn’t stop us. They gave us rules and we forgot to adhere to them.

She said about another client of hers:
“A 55year old woman from Zimbabwe, she has HIV and breast cancer. Escaped the regime there, having lost her entire family to the AIDS epidemic, and is here helping the UK government by participating in experimental treatments. And the Home Office is trying to deport her!!”
Now THAT is an injustice. Not 2 middle class people with a great life who forgot to renew their Visa.

[Note: after Ush's first post, quite a few of our friends suggested writing to the newspapers and/or to our local MPs to highlight this problem]
About going to the papers – bad idea as it would bring to light that we were working illegally for 4 months and they would only do it so that they can sell papers. About MP – bad idea unless the MP knows a lot about immigration issues – if they don’t, then they can (and have in the past) make it worse for the people involved.
As the solicitor said “Save it all for your memoirs”.

So we’re getting the paperwork together now. We’ll probably be down almost £5000 by the end of it. But hey on the bright side, Steph gets a nice long break with her parents.

It DOES still suck that there isn’t a quick fix, and that we have to do this. I STILL think it’s a disgrace. But when you look at it the way she did we can’t risk dragging this out for a year and then still getting a negative result. (See – if you’re rich then anything is possible – we could have dragged this out as long as we wanted!)

Dog walkers required!

———————————————————————————————–

So, there you have it.

Most, if not all, positivity or optimism you might glean from his post is sarcastic or just the admission of defeat. Ush is disappointed, and sad. Fair enough. He’s the one being left behind, being stuck on his own as the one who has to take care of the household and the pets and the bills, etc. All without his wife, partner, lover, best friend. Truly, this whole situation is worse for him than me.

I suppose I recognised straight away that this isn’t a tragedy, that it could have been much worse. This isn’t something that anyone did TO me. Putting up a fight and making a big stink just didn’t make sense to me. (Though I am grateful that I have a husband who fights for me, and friends who will be in our corner too.) It’s a mistake that I made, and so I have to deal with the consequences. I’m just really sorry that Ush has to suffer for it too, but I guess that’s what you sign up for when you commit to someone in marriage. The good times and the bad, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…

So, in the meantime, my employer is working with me and doing whatever they can to ensure that I’m ok and that they can keep me. That’s all I’ll say about that, at least until after the new visa comes through. They’re blessing me beyond the call of duty.

I’m going back to see the lawyer tomorrow to bring her some paperwork and such for the application and statements. That should all be completed in 2-3 weeks, and I will go back to the States somewhere around mid-May and submit the application. It will take anywhere from 6weeks to 3 months.

During which I get to be at home with my family! Aside from being separated from my love and my furry babies (which makes my heart ache), there is really no downside to this. So, it’s very VERY bittersweet.

Someday we’ll look back on this and… laugh? Maybe?

Immigrant Shmimmigrant

Alright, I wasn’t going to get into this because it’s Easter and I’ve been looking forward to this 4-day weekend for some time and just wanted to keep things bright and sunny.   But events may unfold such that big changes will have to be made and I’ll need to explain then anyway, so might as well do it now.

In case you haven’t read Ush’s note on Facebook, here’s his explanation of what happened:

————————————————————————————————————————-

So here is a timeline to explain this succinctly – seeing Facebook only allows me to tag a few of you – don’t take it rudely if I couldn’t tag you.

Nov 08 – My mum injures herself badly. Moves in with Steph and myself for 2 weeks. Super Ali to the rescue. She moves home but Steph does her shopping errands till mid December

Late Dec – Steph flies out to USA for Christmas, plus her grandparents are getting on and it may be the last chance to see them.  Flies out 25th Dec, comes back 5th Jan.

Feb 08 – My dad is critically ill. Visiting him at hospital all the time. He dies.

March – build up to funeral
Mid March- Funeral

April – After months of househunting, we finally find a flat we love. Let’s put everything behind us and get a mortgage.
When getting ready to sign the mortgage – We notice that Steph’s visa ran out on 22nd Dec 08.

When she went on holiday on Dec 25th – they must have thought she was leaving the country for good – and when she returned on Jan 5th – they must have thought she was coming here for a holiday.

Steph had a Spousal “Limited Leave to Remain” visa when we got married in 2006. It’s to weed out the people who are getting married for convenience (so we were told in 2006).
Then 2 years later you can apply for an “Indefinite Leave to Remain” from any time from 1 month before expiry. That is your only window of opportunity. The new visa allows you to stay for forever.
Due to the list of issues we have had above – we completely forgot. Were we trying to scam the system? NO. We had an oversight.

Now as it stands
Good solicitor has stated that Steph has to
a) stop working as it’s illegal
b) leave the country
c) reapply for a new visa
d) wait for it to come through (we’re told 6weeks absolute minimum)
e) then return

Meanwhile – I have to be on my own.
Steph has to leave her WHOLE life behind.
She has to quit a job she loves.
I pay a rent I can’t afford.
I live a life I shouldn’t have to live. Cut into my savings to keep afloat on one income. Therefore lose a lot of chances of ever buying a house.
How long till she can get back? Probably 2-6 months.
And then the last few years are forgotten and she starts again on a temp visa again.

We’ll see what the solicitors say – but noone has given a different opinion as yet.

ALL this because we forgot to get a stamp on a passport.  If I didn’t have savings and Steph didn’t have her parents, we would both be living on the street.

What annoys me more is that she was never reminded by the Home Office to renew – never asked “Why are you still paying Income Tax?”.  Nothing.  I know it’s our fault – but this isn’t a crime – it’s a mistake and we’re gonna pay for this REALLY hard. Didn’t even cross our mind – to all intents and purposes Steph feels like a Brit now. When your dad is dying and your mother is ill and your grandparents may not make it, you don’t think about passports. Obviously not – I guess that should have been at the top of my list.

Steph = hardworking, never default on savings, tax, NI, no sick leave etc etc. Typical sponging immigrant it seems.

It’s one rule for all illegal immigrants it seems regardless of situation. ffs.

So for the next year I’ll be “broke” – but hey that’s not hard to deal with – spend less. I’ll need to find dog walkers in the day. I’ll need to stop wanting to buy a house as our deposit is gonna get hit hard.
And
I have my wife stolen from me.

Thanks UK for nothing. Oh.  And for protecting me so well from terrorists and immigrants.

————————————————————————————————————————–

Right, so he’s quite angry as you can see.  He wrote this no more than 24 hours after we realised our mistake and began taking action to try to rectify things.

We dug out my passport on Wednesday night, and the next morning began calling around to various organisations and immigration lawyers to try to find out where we stood.  We also phoned my boss to tell him what happened.

I should clarify, in case it’s not clear – as a result of the visa expiry, I’m not here in the country illegally… USA passport holders can be in the UK without a visa (aka – on holiday) for up to 6 months.  I’ve just been working illegally since the visa expired.  Which would lead one to surmise that this could be just as big of a problem for my employer.

This is where we have been truly blessed because the situation could’ve been A LOT worse (they were well within their rights to fire me on the spot).   After speaking with my boss and meeting with him that afternoon, he’d assured me they would hold my job, could possibly arrange for me to continue working remotely (ah, the age of broadband – anything is possible!) and be reimbursed for it later when this mess is over, and he had also found an excellent immigration lawyer and arranged a meeting.

So anyway, since Ush’s post, we’ve had a huge response from friends showing their support and offering to help in any way they can, which is all SO appreciated.

I’m still not sure how I feel about the whole thing yet.   Being who I am because of the way I was raised, my reaction (after the initial anger and self-loathing) is:  I made a mistake, so I have to accept the consequences and do what they tell me to do.  It’s not in my nature to argue against that, to fight for another course of action.

Thankfully, my husband is the activist in this family.  He’s going to do all he can to keep me here.  To get them to look at our situation as extenuating circumstances, an unintentional oversight.  The mistake is ours and we’re not denying that.  But we are clearly not a couple trying to screw the system in any way shape or form – we support ourselves without help from the government, we pay our taxes, National Insurance, bills, etc.. We were even trying to do our bit to boost the economy by getting a mortgage!

Will the Home Office be at all interested in hearing our side of the story?  We shall see.

I’ll update you after our meeting with the solicitor this week…

romans seven fifteen

I’ve long despised the existence of greed, believed it is at the root of practically every conceivable problem in the world.  Every evil.  The eradication of greed would bring us to world peace.

And while those feelings are genuine and valid, sometimes I wonder worry if I’m actually just secretly jealous of all that I want but can’t have because of others’ greed.

The biggest receiver of my righteous wrath right now is the banks.  I’m no economist and I don’t pretend to really understand what’s going on in and around this recession.  But as far as I can tell, the British government is trying pretty damn hard to grease the economic gears, to get banks loaning and people spending.  They’ve brought the base rate down to almost nothing.

And this is where I start to get really REALLY angry…

Instead of passing on these lower rates to help out consumers of all shapes and sizes, bank bosses are holding on to their cash more tightly than ever.  Everyone’s all, Woo! House prices are falling! Now’s the time to buy!
And the crooked banks are all, Yes, come and buy! But we’ll be tossing you out the door on your bum unless you’ve got at least a 15% deposit.  And if you’re fortunate enough to have 30-50k sitting around, then we’re still going to tear you a new one with ridiculously high interest rates just to make sure that we stay as rich as possible.

-sigh-

This post was meant to be a reflective and soulsearching discussion about society, the world, and my place in both.

But instead I’m just going to wave my middle finger at The Man and say, Bite me.

(…until the anger inevitably wears me out…)

And then I will remind myself that my husband and I are so very fortunate.  Our families are so fortunate.  We have SO MUCH compared to our proverbial neighbors down the proverbial street.  We have too much compared to our neighbors in {insert the name of any third world country}.

(I bet some of them are rightly waving their middle fingers at me!)

And I will thank the Lord for looking after us, for keeping our hearts soft and our eyes open, for meeting our needs beyond what we actually need!!  I will beg Him to  continue to mold me – to drive out my envy, my desire for more, my greed. I want to make better use of my blessings, rather than putting them towards more things for me.

I want to always remember – as keenly as you’d feel a smack upside the head – that I already have everything I’ve ever truly wanted:  a wonderful family, a fantastic husband, great friends, a nice place to live, a job that pays well and gives me a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment… And so many bonuses.

You can’t really ask for more than that.

Do Something Funny for Money

Yesterday was Red Nose Day.

One thing I really like about living here is that there’s a much stronger sense of camaraderie and fellowship when you live in a country that spans a single timezone. (We’d fit inside Texas three times.)

You know that everyone across the country has the same five basic channels – regardless of how many others they might have via Sky or Virgin or any other provider.  If they want to, everyone can watch EastEnders on BBC1 or Big Brother on C4 or GMTV on ITV3  etc etc etc…   And they’re all watching it at the same time.

When there’s a big event going on, like Comic Relief, you know that a majority of people are at home on their couches with a takeaway watching BBC1 (or BBC2 when they switched over for an hour so they could show the news on BBC1).  I myself watched from 7pm until 1am when I couldn’t stay awake any longer, but it went on til 3am.

And you also know that, earlier on in the day, lots of offices and schools  and businesses were carrying out events in honor of the day, to raise money for the cause.

Comic Relief funds projects in the UK (eg: suicide hotlines, domestic violence support, child protection, support for carer) and in Africa (malaria + mosquito nets, AIDS, maternal mortality, tuberculosis).

At my office, we all wore red (and paid £1 to do so), we ran a three-legged race down the road in front of the building (and paid £1 to do so – and might I add that my partner and I won!), and we had a quiz (paying £1 to enter and further donations for wrong answers).  As an office, we raised almost £200 for Comic Relief, and one colleague raised £75 by wearing a big afro wig all day!

This year, despite the ever-present bite of the recession, Britain raised almost £20million more than they did on Red Nose Day last year!!

The current total is in excess of £57million and it will continue to grow over the next week or so as more donations come in from offices like mine, schools, organisations, and individuals.

I was moved by this project, I texted in my donation, and I am proud to be living in this country that cares about those less fortunate.  Government and bureaucracy aside, this is a country of people that, though so many are being hurt by the credit crunch, will still dig deep and give to those who are hurting so much more.

That’s what the Lord wants of us.  We shouldn’t be using our gifts and blessings for evil and selfish gain, but for helping those in need.  I’m not going to go all political and talk about stuff I haven’t fully researched (Iraq, Afghanistan, etc), but I do know that those aren’t places where we really need to be.

I find myself in unfamiliar territory, as I open my eyes to the world, and realise this is where I should have been all along.  Eyes open, really seeing.

Grieve not he is no more, Rejoice that he was

That was the intended theme of Suresh’s funeral yesterday. A celebration of his life.

It was held at Epping Forest Burial Park, in the clearing of a gorgeous wooded area, in a round room lined with floor to ceiling windows, even a podium made of natural wood/branches. And the Lord blessed us with sunshine.

The man who conducted the service did such a lovely job, speaking about life and the journey we all take.

Suresh’s younger sister Anitha spoke with memories of their childhood and who her big brother was to her. His cousins, Reita and Sunila, spoke of their dashing and clever cousin, like the-brother-they-never-had, who was a constant presence throughout their lives. Laurence, a longtime friend, spoke of their friendship and shared interests. Ushwin spoke straight from the heart about the unique and often complex relationship they shared as father and son, and the peace they found as very similar individuals who were victims of bad timing. And Brenda wrote a beautiful piece about Suresh as her husband, which was read out on her behalf by her best friend.

They played several of Suresh’s favourite jazz songs during the service. And then, at the end, Ush, Brenda, and Anitha travelled to the crematorium to see things through to the end.

We had a meal at an Indian restaurant called Vojan, where Suresh and Brenda had been several times, and were Suresh had been acknowledged by staff as an elder worthy of respect. Good conversations with family and friends, renewing old ties as well as forging new relationships.

I’m so beyond proud of my husband. (During his speech, a few people thought I was going to be up out of my seat to go to him at the podium, the way I was leaning forward..  I didn’t realise I was doing this.  I suppose I was just focusing on him, trying to send him any spare strength he might need to make it through his speech.)
I’m so proud to be a part of his life – a part of Suresh’s legacy – and to carry on in our life together being who we are because of the people who brought us into the world.

It’s easy to drudge up regrets and If only’s, but I see us moving forward from here with new perspectives. Ush will always grieve the loss of his dad, and I will always wish I’d known him better.  But, as Ush said in his speech, (when and if…) our children will know their Ajja, if only through our stories of him.

I can say it now

Ushwin’s dad passed away on Thursday 19th February around 8pm.

I couldn’t say anything before because not everyone knew yet and due to various tricky situations, including certain parties travelling abroad, we had to wait before everyone could be informed.

So, there you go.  That’s what’s REALLY been going on while I’ve been fluff-tastically blogging away about other stuff.

It seems so much more real, now that everyone knows.  And will even more so at the funeral on Wednesday.

It’s very surreal being on this end of it.  For the second time in my life, someone very close to me has lost a parent much too soon.  (Is the time ever ‘right’ for losing a parent? Of course not.  But this was too soon. Both were.)

Not only can I not empathise with that kind of pain, but I also can’t fully share in the loss, because I didn’t know my father-in-law very well.  I’d only met him a few times, and his illness meant that I couldn’t even really hold normal conversations with him. I really only knew him based on what others told me about him.  But even those versions were often starkly different.

So this is surreal and I am very busy trying to be whatever is needed to whoever needs me to be that.  Ushwin.  His mom.  His stepmother.  It’s hard, and made even more difficult by the very complex relationships that have been swilling around for the last 17 years since the divorce. 31 years since Ushwin’s birth.  45+ years since his parents married.

My favourite memory of Suresh was during one of our visits to he and his wife Brenda’s home in Bath.  I was showing him a slideshow of photos from our wedding.  I paused on one of my parents and me, and commented that people are often divided on whether I look like my mom or my dad.  As the photos continued on the slideshow, Suresh began typing on his handheld touchtype communicator thingy (as he had fully lost his speech by this time).  With a smile he held it up to me, “You look like your dad.”

I love that the Lord creates us and lets us grow into who we are, equipping us with everything we need to navigate any path in front of us.  I love that humans are not solitary creatures, that we are built to be in relationships, in families, in societies.

I love my husband, I love our family, and I appreciate this life we have with every fibre of my being.  May we hang onto each moment with renewed fervor and always and perhaps only remember fondly those who have left us.