We had taken a ferry from Italy to Greece and hired a car. The plan was to drive to Athens and through to Macedonia. Ivan, who would later become my husband, had learned his mother was visitng relatives in the small village where she was raised. I was to finally meet my future mother in law.
When we arrived at the border, it was explained to us that we were not allowed to bring the rental car into Macedonia. We parked and locked the vehicle, grabbed our bags and began a long walk from Greece into Macedonia. This was a time when ethnic Albanian's were desperately trying to get out of their country. Taking in our beautiful surroundings we couldn't help but notice there were men in uniforms laying among the tall grass with great big guns pointing at us. I felt better knowing that Ivan spoke the language if we encountered any strife.
At last we were officially on the other side. A taxi driver was there and after a brief conversation on price we were on our way to "The Village". After 45 minutes we slowly went down a dirt road. It wasn't as thrid world as I was led to believe. We unloaded our gear from the car when I heard what sounded like a heated argument. The parts I could understand were,"friends with guns come and kill you". We ended up paying triple the agreed price and everyone was friends again.
Three days was about all I could bare. Ivan's relatives had only one volume which was loud. They never spoke softly and preferred to yell and scream. Apparently his cousin had a curse out on her by the witch who lived down the road and she suffered terrible headaches as a consequence. Not understanding a single word they were saying, I retreated to the bedroom for a good cry. My future mother-in-law appeared to finally say hello and formally meet me. I will never forget her words as long as I live, "You have strong bones and wide hips for babies". My future flashed before my eyes. She had it all planned out for me. We were barely together a year at this point and already she had big plans.
I can't say I was sad when we left the village. I would like to think of myself as open minded but I learned from that trip, when it comes to food I am very Westernized. They had fresh hot milk from the goat every morning along with cheese the made as well. There were two rabbits in the yard when we arrived but the last night there was some sort of meat dish for dinner. I never complained and ate everything on my plate. For this, I am proud.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Immigration
You'd think that if you speak English and you don't have a criminal record that immigration would be no problem. This is not the case. If I were from a thrid world country or facing religious persecution I would have slid right in. So, we hired an immigration lawyer.
After taking copious amounts of bodily fluids, I went through a three step interview process. I had already provided an FBI background check and that was fine. My fingerprints hadn't shown up on interpol so all that was left was to have a little sit down with a man from Chile.
Interview 1) This was bascially to determine my mental well-being and make sure I wasn't a crazy person.
Interview 2) This was a joint interview between my future husband and myself. I thought we did very well.
Interview 3) This one was done individually where they ask you both the same questions in seperate rooms and then compare your answers. Thank God he remembered what colour my toothbrush was!
Alas, I have been accepted and it only cost a total of $15,000! That includes the lawyer's fees. I am now a resident alien and have found a new respect for all the Mexican's in Southern California. People are enamoured by my American accent, a far cry from traveling through Europe where I decided being a Canadian was a much better idea (I had a run in with a mean mean man in Italy).
Advice? If you met an Aussie, guy or girl, you want to immigrate to the great land of OZ? Save EVERYTHING! Pictures, letters, phone bills, shared expenses and make sure you can account for every minute you and your beloved have spent together. Statements from family and friends are helpful as well.
After taking copious amounts of bodily fluids, I went through a three step interview process. I had already provided an FBI background check and that was fine. My fingerprints hadn't shown up on interpol so all that was left was to have a little sit down with a man from Chile.
Interview 1) This was bascially to determine my mental well-being and make sure I wasn't a crazy person.
Interview 2) This was a joint interview between my future husband and myself. I thought we did very well.
Interview 3) This one was done individually where they ask you both the same questions in seperate rooms and then compare your answers. Thank God he remembered what colour my toothbrush was!
Alas, I have been accepted and it only cost a total of $15,000! That includes the lawyer's fees. I am now a resident alien and have found a new respect for all the Mexican's in Southern California. People are enamoured by my American accent, a far cry from traveling through Europe where I decided being a Canadian was a much better idea (I had a run in with a mean mean man in Italy).
Advice? If you met an Aussie, guy or girl, you want to immigrate to the great land of OZ? Save EVERYTHING! Pictures, letters, phone bills, shared expenses and make sure you can account for every minute you and your beloved have spent together. Statements from family and friends are helpful as well.
How I Became a Good Wog Woman
I was sucked in by the accent and that's the truth. I'd gone to visit a friend in San Francisco. She informed me she was dating her ex again and wondered if I would mind staying at the youth hostel up the road in Marin. I wouldn't want to deny my friend a dirty weekend with her man so off I went. That very night I met an Aussie. Handsome, great smile, knew how to treat a lady. I was ready to hop into his suitcase right then and there. Unfortunately I didn't even have a passport.
After two weeks at the hostel, we were kicked out. It seems they're very strict on time limits so we started camping. I never thought I'd be living out of a station wagon circa Brady Bunch with the Aussie. I have to say though, they were some of the best times I've ever had in my life.
When it was time for him and his best friend to continue their journey, I was sure that was the end. My whirlwind romance with the Aussie was going to end a swiftly as it began. Alas, he convinced me to finally get my passport. I would see 11 countries in total with him. I felt like I was at last one of the cool kids. I had stamps in my passport. I'd seen the Louvre, the Colliseum and the little village in Macendonia where his mother was born.
In 2002, I finally made my way to the great land of OZ. This is where I was introduced to a sub-culture known as "The Wogs". I'd never heard this term before I arrived in Melbourne but have been immersed in it ever since. I was under the impression everyone in Australia knew how to throw a boomerang and wrestle a crocodile. I thought everyone would be dressed in Ugg boots and board shorts and have one of those hats with the little corks hanging off the edges. Boy, was I wrong.
I met all of the Aussie's family and friends. Most of them were the kids of Wogs. Their parent's were from one of 4 places: Italy, Greece, Croatia and Macedonia. Not a single Australian among them.
After two weeks at the hostel, we were kicked out. It seems they're very strict on time limits so we started camping. I never thought I'd be living out of a station wagon circa Brady Bunch with the Aussie. I have to say though, they were some of the best times I've ever had in my life.
When it was time for him and his best friend to continue their journey, I was sure that was the end. My whirlwind romance with the Aussie was going to end a swiftly as it began. Alas, he convinced me to finally get my passport. I would see 11 countries in total with him. I felt like I was at last one of the cool kids. I had stamps in my passport. I'd seen the Louvre, the Colliseum and the little village in Macendonia where his mother was born.
In 2002, I finally made my way to the great land of OZ. This is where I was introduced to a sub-culture known as "The Wogs". I'd never heard this term before I arrived in Melbourne but have been immersed in it ever since. I was under the impression everyone in Australia knew how to throw a boomerang and wrestle a crocodile. I thought everyone would be dressed in Ugg boots and board shorts and have one of those hats with the little corks hanging off the edges. Boy, was I wrong.
I met all of the Aussie's family and friends. Most of them were the kids of Wogs. Their parent's were from one of 4 places: Italy, Greece, Croatia and Macedonia. Not a single Australian among them.
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