Reflections of an Immigrant

Yesterday we went to London to deal with the dreaded American passport dilemma. We have seven people in our family. Four members have two passports each. Let's do the math, shall we?

3 + 2(4)= 11 passports to renew, all at different times unfortunately

We are planning a trip to the US in April, and we've been working quite hard trying to get our permanent residency established and our two American-born children's passports back in order to go. That has required A LOT of paperwork--including letters from every school and doctor's surgery they've ever been to, with records of attendance and appointments. Considering they've been to six schools between them over the last six years, that was not the matter of a simple phone call.

So in the midst of all this we realized that the American passport of Second Eldest Daughter, who was born in the UK, had expired. Hence an urgently-booked trip to the American Embassy in London to deal with it.

Cue the 4am wakeup to make a 9:30 appointment in London, and then the endless bureaucracy of getting into the American Embassy, which is on par with Fort Knox, and understandably so. We queued in the line for non-US visas for ten minutes just to get in the building before we realized we were in the wrong line.

Then many more lines, for security, to enter the Citizen Services area, to register in the Citizen Services area, to pay for the passport, to pay for the courier envelope, to hand in the application, and finally, finally, the last line to approve the application. Two hours later we emerged, blinking and dazed, into Grosvenor Square.

But I will say everyone was very efficient and friendly, far more so than the last time we had to go to the Embassy in London (we usually go to the far smaller Consulate in Edinburgh), which was in November 2001, and let me say, it felt like you were entering a maximum-security prison, and you were a prisoner. Understandably.

And despite the many hoops we've had to jump through lately, not to mention the many cheques we've had to write, I'm very grateful that we have the opportunity to live in the UK as US citizens, especially when I consider the state of immigration today.

Two days after the Brexit vote my husband and I were sitting in the visa office in Solihull with about 20 other immigrants applying for permanent residency. We all sat there quietly with our applications on our laps--hundreds of pages of paperwork showing the jobs we've had, the taxes we've paid, the fact that we are not eligible for any government benefits, such as child benefit, while employed in the UK--while a large-screen TV blared experts' opinions on the Brexit vote and the immigration 'problem'.

It was incredibly poignant and sad to sit there with polite, gainfully employed non-UK citizens who have added so much to this country and listen to people on TV describing how we're all a problem. The immigration system isn't perfect in any country, and of course it can be abused. But it is a wonderful, wonderful thing for many people, including me.

The last thing I will mention is that all the people working in the visa office, some of them immigrants themselves, were incredibly polite, friendly, and efficient. It made the laborious process much, much more pleasant!

Awkwardly British?

Tonight my daughter looked up from her homework and remarked, 'Mom, you sounded awkwardly British just then.' I can't actually remember what I said, but it was definitely not an American expression. And the longer we live in England, it seems the more 'awkwardly British' I become--saying bin instead of trash can, car park instead of parking lot, biscuit instead of cookie. And not just using different words but different constructions--my three-year-old asked me earlier if the biscuit (yes, biscuit!) I was handing her had 'raisins in'. In the US you would say 'raisins in it'. Another one is using 'quite' rather than 'very'. There are myriad different words and expressions, of course, and I could hardly begin to catalogue them all, although as a family we have tried. One child made it a school project!

But in any case my daughter's phrase 'awkwardly British' rattled around in my head for awhile. How can I be awkwardly British while living in Britain? And the more I write the word awkward, the more awkward a word it seems! But anyway...

My children are quite ruthless when it comes to ferreting out British expressions and pouring disdain upon them. If I ever dared to say truly quintessentially British words such as 'bloke', 'loo', or call a friend 'mate', they would roar with laughter, gasp in horror, or probably both. But those three examples mentioned above are actually British words I can't bring myself to say, along with loo, naff, cheers or ta for thanks, or quid, to name a few. It's not that I have a problem with these words, it's merely that I don't think I can pull them off. I feel like either I'd burst out laughing while saying (or attempting to say) the word, or else the person I was talking to burst out laughing. Probably both.

It's inevitable, though, that we will adopt some Britishisms while living here, and I have noticed when I return to America, people mistake me for being British (cue incredulous laughter from every Brit who has ever met me). In fact, on a plane to a writers' conference in Texas, a very Texan woman exclaimed, 'Oh, you're British!' I laughed and said that no, of course I wasn't, I didn't have a British accent! She gave me a sympathetic look and said, her own accent as thick as treacle (see how British that is?!), 'Bless your heart, honey, you do.'

I've mused more than once that since we are settled here permanently, my children will most likely marry British people (assuming they marry) and have children who will sound QUITE British, because I've noticed that children with one American parent and one British parent living in Britain--guess what? They sound completely British. So eventually I will have grandchildren who will shrug their shoulders, roll their eyes, and say something like, 'Oh yeah, my mum's parents are from America and we have some cousins over there but, you know, whatever.' Or something like that. And then, perhaps, we will seem awkwardly American.