U.S. Embassy, you’re not helping
Nobody is more aware of the fact that I’m American than me. I mean when you live in a foreign country, they like to remind you every now and then, just in case you forget. I’ve heard both good and bad things about my country, but like most foreigners you have to live with the stereotypes that come with the territory. So to give you an idea, let me just point out a few things about how the Americans are perceived in Britain.
- We are over the top about, well everything. Holidays, celebrations, BBQ’s, food (especially food) you get the picture.
- We are way too commercial.
- We eat a lot
- We’re crap at geography and have very vague ideas about things outside our own country.
- We mostly wear Birkenstocks with socks and shorts while on vacation.
- We are way too proud about our country and believe ourselves to be way too important.
I could go on, but this gives you a little insight into the stereotypes I am up against here in the UK. Most anything that I do, especially around the holidays, is usually met with Oh that is so American. Umm….yeah.
So when, last Monday Maurice and I set off to the American Embassy in London for an emergency passport for little ol’ me, I had my ideas about what it was going to be like from the last time I was there. Which was about 6 or 7 years ago. There I was impressing Maurice with my see how much I remember from my last visit here, aren’t I awesome?! navigating skills with him rolling his eyes and just wanting to get there and get the hell back home. I don’t blame him, it’s not exactly a fun filled day out.
Let me just say, a lot has changed since my last visit.
First of all, the Embassy sits in a square filled with all kinds of other Embassy’s. It’s like the ultimate Embassy hang out for all countries. However the American Embassy is the only one with Armed Guards outside it, sporting huge guns and giving the impression that snipers are just a Yo Mama away. I didn’t snap any photos of them, but they pretty much looked like this
Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?
Then, there’s a nice little building outside the Embassy, which is the security point. I can deal with that, so Maurice and I get in line to get into the building. We tell the nice man outside the building that we are here for an emergency passport for me, since he has the shiny clipboard and wants to know all your business before you actually get to go inside. So he checks that I am American and asks Maurice if he is also an American citizen. Which of course Maurice is not, since he’s from Holland. Which is a country between Belguim and Germany just to impress you with my awesome geography skills.
I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait outside. Only American citizens can enter the Embassy.
Pardon?! Holy mother of McDonald’s, he’s not even allowed to step foot on this most sacred of all grounds. Like that is American soil that Embassy is built on in the middle of London, the flag on the top of the building says so. Maurice is not even worthy. Me being on crutches and extremely pregnant also does not win over the nice guard people inside the security building, when I plead that I need assistance walking anywhere in case the baby drops out or my pelvis decides to collapse under the pressure. Nope. Don’t care. Apparently I should have shacked up with an American citizen if I wanted that privilege.
Now I’m waiting to see if there’s any argument over whether my unborn child is allowed inside the Embassy, but they don’t even ask. I suppose him growing in an all American womb was enough for him to qualify. Go womb!
They do however confiscate my mobile phone and keep it there at security. I’m guessing this is just in case I decide to phone the President and file a complaint about my other half being left outside since he’s Dutch. I have no idea, but mobile phones and Dutch people are not allowed in the Embassy. Or anyone not growing in an All American Womb, unless they are indeed an American citizen.
So with all this hype, I am expecting there to be a huge disco inside the Embassy filled with American hotties and lots of booze. But no, after making the walk of shame into the building (we’re talking double fences on this rather long walk from security to the entrance, I pretty much feel like I’m walking to my prison cell) there’s absolutely nothing inside except a room where I get a ticket number and a whole load of seats to wait.
And it takes 2 1/2 hours to get an emergency passport.
When I finally emerge from the Embassy, holding my new fancy omg there was an emergency and I need to flee the country I swear I didn’t do it passport, Maurice is looking rather cold with puppy dog eyes from the other side of the double fence. When we finally get to meet face to face he produces a piece of paper and hands it to me which boldly reads:
Above male stopped to section 44 prevention and detection of acts of terrorism in and around London.
Maurice doesn’t even have a moustache, or a trench coat, or a grenade in his underwear (I checked), but he DID have a mobile phone so I’m pretty sure that was the tip off. Because all terrorists have mobile phones duh. I of course laughed my ass off when he showed me, especially when he revealed that they searched and questioned him. He pointed out to the officer that he had to wait outside since the Embassy won’t allow him in with me and asked if the Americans were really that paranoid about everybody hating them so much. They had a laugh about it together, but I’m fairly sure they didn’t exchange phone numbers. (Security precaution, in case the officer phoned his mobile and blew him up.)
For the past 10 years I’ve been fighting all the American stereotypes trying to claim out we are so not over the top and up ourselves.
So US Embassy YOU’RE NOT HELPING MY CASE AT ALL.
They pretty much confirmed what the rest of the world has been thinking about Americans all along, so now I can’t even argue. Although I can officially say that there wasn’t a sign of a single burger inside the US Embassy so in your face British people!
Maurice stated that the next time I have to go to the Embassy he was NOT coming with me. I think he’s pretty close to therapy now having to wait outside in the cold, being searched and questioned about his lack of moustache and trench coat and his suspicious behavior of LOOKING AT THE US EMBASSY.
We didn’t have the heart to tell those guys that the American soil the building was sitting on was actually in Britain. I’m pretty sure we would have been arrested on the spot. How long till they figure it out do you think?
I dunno, but it will be a while before I go back to check.
OMG! I’m American too and we went to the Embassy in September 2008 to get my half-American/half-English daughter’s US passport, social security number & to register her birth abroad. (You’ll have to do this too, I’m sorry to say)
My husband was permitted to come in with me, as was my daughter & her pushchair & accessories. He’s English…maybe things have changed in the last 18 months!
It is ridiculous, the measures that they take but I suppose there is a reason for it. When I first visited the US Embassy in London in May of 2005 (I just walked up thinking I could speak to someone…silly me!), it was different. There were guards but not quite the system that is in place today. Shockingly offensive, really. When I joked about them checking our formula bottles & formula mixer my husband shot me the weirdest look…he didn’t want us all turfed out for my flippancy! Somehow they let us in.
I sympathise…and hope that I never have to go there again.
Karin
Karin @ Cafe Bebe´s last blog ..Mummy Tummy Begone
Well actually IT IS American Soil. So they had the right to refuse me. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t extremely annoying and frustrating but yes, they were allowed to refuse me…
And I agree on the geography bit… *hides*
LMAO! I am american too and living in ISrael. In case it makes you feel any better-it is just as bad here if not worse.
Thanks for making me laugh.
Susie´s last blog ..Document Your Parents & Grandparents Life Story Before It Is Too Late
I’m sorry, I laughed so hard!
When I was at the Immigration place in Texas to get my green card everyone except for me there was Mexican, talk about stereotypes!
Don’t worry though, the British embassy in the U.S. is just as bad. I had to call them to get a replacement passport a couple of years ago. The phone was answered by an Scot with an accent I just couldn’t understand at all. He was very polite but not at all helpful and kept me on hold for forever (because you know us Brits love standing in line, even if they’re just “virtual” lines)
Very upset to hear there are no signs for burgers in the U.S. Embassy, I expected there to be a McDonald’s at the door
Satakieli´s last blog ..March 7
Oh and P.S. your case on the Geography isn’t helped by the fact that I once overheard a U.S. college student telling her younger brother that Brazil was in Europe. It was difficult to hide my smirk
Satakieli´s last blog ..March 7
Well I am sort of happy to hear other Embassy’s are just as bad! In a weird sort of way…. lol
At least we are not in this alone! I love you all for that
Sata – no I know the geography argument is a losing battle, since I must admit we Americans are totally crap at it. I’ve seen it time and time again, it’s really sad. On the other hand it is funny when you see those sorts of examples! haha, Brazil in Europe?! *Gasp* I never knew
Thanks all for stopping in!
And Maurice you would agree on the geography thing! Especially since you know the states better than I do. I’m not ashamed. Cos I totally make up for it in my cooking skills. Rawr! xx
I’m so sorry you had to go through that – what a pain in the butt.
And for the record, I am a New Yorker (born and raised!) and I actually know where Holland is! woot woot!
Hilarious. But not. Shame your waters didn’t break on their punk asses. Well, obviously not wishing that on any of you!
But really their total lack of a sense of humour and their treatment of their ‘non-US’ visitors is disgraceful. Maybe they do need a burger joint in there to cheer things up.
Babes about Town´s last blog ..You spin me right round baby
Yes they are strict there (beleive me I know, my ex worked there!) but they do have reason to be-the amount of scares they get there is incredible.
The staff dont get it easy either though (American or not)the amount of security doors and pin codes and other bits of info they need to remember is just silly. When I used to go up there I had to be escorted around the building at all times by an employee, one time my Ex went off to the loo when we were in the bar and he asked one of his mates to sit with..its like i was being baby-sat!!
The guards out side arent that bad, I used to chat to the quite regularily and the marines can be a friendly at times but they really are on high alert 24/7.
You’re right tho the waiting times are ridiculous and the fact theres no where to really wait outside without looking suspicious is a big problem, i was always scared to use my phone to call to say i was outside incase i got rugby tackled to the floor!
MissSearles xxx
P.S regarding the burgers…you should have seen what they had set-up for the elections…the foyer had a make shift Burger King (or maybe a MacDonalds i cant quite remeber) built in it for a few weeks!
MissSearles´s last blog ..I’m smiling again
I once watched a video, where random Americans on the streets were asked, “name a country starting with the letter U”
and none of them had an answer..
how about United States Of America?
Seems Americans are really bad at geography :p
Stopping from SITS! What a tough time for something that sounds so simple.
JDaniel4′s Mom´s last blog ..Shearing or Plucking A Sheep
Good grief, I hope I don’t have to go to the embassy for anything… EVER!
Us with our shifty Dutch husbands! How dare we not marry our own
mub´s last blog ..The Big Reveal & A Giveaway!
Amazing how immigration, the embassy, etc…always make you feel like you are doing something wrong, when really you are trying to do things right. I’m a Canadian who married an American and got my U.S. citizenship because I was tired of dealing with getting dragged into tiny hot immigration offices at airports being questioned as to whether I married an American to get a Green Card.
Barbara´s last blog ..Everyone Needs an Alice
You would think the Embassy would be trying to help our image.
Did they go through your mobile phone, or just hold it? I’ll have to remember to remove any … ah … incriminating photos from mine before such visits.
Urgh, immigration…
I’m a British expat in Japan, and very glad I scored a 3-year visa last time round so I don’t have to go through the visa renewal dance again for a while. Last time, I didn’t realise the Nagoya immigration bureau had moved – you’d think they’d have a sign on the door or something with the new location, but no… I ended up walking right into the offices of a glazing firm that had taken over the space. That was embarassing!
And once I found the new place, it was late in the day so I had a 3 hour wait just to get a stamp and hand in some forms!
Abigail´s last blog ..Crochet basics – Sign seeker belt
I am british but now live in america.
I had to visit the embassy many times!
Its a nightmare.
Just here from sits
This post really made me laugh! I’m a Canadian living in Belize but the Canadian consulate here isn’t anything like what you described. I should see if I can get into the American embassy one of these days. lol
Happy SITS Day!
Cheers
- CoconutPalmDesigns
CoconutPalmDesigns´s last blog ..The Martini and The Sailboat
When I was in Cairo, I had to wake up extremely early to take a 30mins drive, which in reality was a 3 hour drive to the Australian Embassy. I had to sit and wait for my turn only to be told that they can not help me. Awesome!
Hiedi´s last blog ..A little lovely something
I am a regular reader of your blog and would just like to say thanks! I am due to start my own blog an would like to know how to go about doing so. I hear a lot about Blogger is this a good site to use? Thanks.
Glad I don’t travel so can avoid this experience. How sad your husband could not go in with you–how ridiculous! Two and half hours is a long wait–I bet your husband was getting worried about you.
Congrats on your SITS day–glad I found you!
Karen, author of “My Funny Dad, Harry”´s last blog ..Cameras and Kids
Oh my, you can’t beat that “excitement”. I plea guilty to the geography ignorance – can I blame public schools
? I hope all goes well with your baby.
Oh my word! That is so freaking redonkulous. Poor Maurice!
BlissfulBabe´s last blog ..Paying It Forward
Hilarious and awful all at the same time! As a recent college grad here in the USofA, we think we are bad at geography too! I think I am pretty good compared to most here but the things you overhear in class … Oh goodness.
Happy SITS Day!
Shannon´s last blog ..Made the Shift, now to make it a Lilly….
What a big pain in the butt. It reminds me of that movie French Kiss when Meg Ryan goes into the Embassy in France… *L*
Whereas the Canadian Embassy probably had a revolving door?
Happy FB SITS day!
zeemaid´s last blog ..Hawthorne TV Series 3 Disc Giveaway
Okay, so some American stereotypes are right on (like the geography one). But the Birkenstocks and socks? Yikes!
Ronnica´s last blog ..TV is Rotting My Brain
oh my, poor maurice. i hate to ask if this incident made you feel embarrassed of you’re nationality. true, they are just doing precautionary measures. but do they have to be paranoid of every single foreigner?
happy SITS day
cheri´s last blog ..getting too old?
Haha! This post had me laughing. Your poor hubby! He must be a real trooper
.
My parents are Americans living in France and they deal with stereotypes all the time (and ridiculous red tape from the French government about all things visa). I lived in France for several years when I was much younger. The kids have their own stereotypes too: I was frequently asked if I ate at McDonalds for breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday! The worst part was, when we went back to the states to visit family for a few months at a time, all the nice church people who had us over to eat thought that we couldn’t get hamburgers or hot-dogs in France so I swear that’s what they served us for Every. Single. Meal.
Good times.
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