Star Wars

Today is 30 years after the release of Star Wars. It's one of those days where Star Wars freaks dust off their lightsabers, don their Jedi robes and try to 'out-Star Wars' every other fan with random trivia and classic quotes (*sounds of choking and a dead body hitting the floor* "Apology accepted, Captain Needa" Vader, after expressing his displeasure at the unfortunate Capt. by Force-gripping him to death).

Although I'm by no means a fanatic, I quite enjoy the Star Wars saga. I still remember coming out of the cinema after seeing Episode one: The Phantom Menace on opening night gushing like a little kid about how cool the end fight sequence was. Yes, I must confess that I actually like Episode one, even with Jar Jar Binks in it. Sure the special effects were a bit heavy handed, the acting comical at times, and the dialog cheesy, but the movie did break the 20-something year drought of Star Wars cinema.

Plus Episode one had plenty of action, we finally saw some real Jedi knights kick some ass, and for me the film cemented Obi-Wan Kenobi as the most heroic and uber-cool Jedi in the series. What about Luke Skywalker? the Star Wars purists cry out. This line "But I was going into Toshi Station to pick up some power converters..." said in an overly whiny, sulky Skywalker manner in Episode IV completely depreciated my view of Skywalker for the rest of the original trilogy. I mean come on, the best movie out of the original series was The Empire Strikes Back, when Luke was getting his butt-kicked (or should I say hand lopped off) by his Daddy.

For those fellow Star Wars enthusiasts, take some time out debating whether life is best faced with the rogue attitude of Han Solo "Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side kid", or the dignified steadiness of Ben Kenobi "This [lightsaber] is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as clumsy or as random as a blaster, but an elegant weapon for a more civilized age", and enjoy these entertaining clips:

Vader calls The Emperor to break the bad news of the Deathstars demise - you have to watch this, it's frickin hilarious.

Troops - a Star Wars parody of the TV show COPS, very funny. The first half is funnier than the second.

Ryan v Brandon - An award winning fan-made lightsaber duel movie. The kids who made this have talent. The acting is a bit dubious, but the special effects are top-notch (Youtube doesn't do the effects justice, sorry I couldn't find the hi-res version that I originally found some time ago). George Lucas actually hired one of these guys after seeing one of their productions.

Ryan v Dorkman 2 - Another unbelievably impressive fight scene made by the guys above, with better and more special effects. Also check out RvD 1.

Obi-Wan buys a new car - funny skit by some Brits. Don't miss the fight scene at the end!

Lego Star Wars - pretty cool clip. Vader the orchestra conductor, "impressive, most impressive".

And who would have thought that C-3PO would have one of the most philosophically memorable lines in Star Wars? Next time you're discussing philosophy, Camus or Dostoyevsky, just remember the sage words of C-3PO "We seem to be made to suffer. It's our lot in life."

Priceless fun, episode 2

For episode 1, click here.

The 'interview' turned out to be a few questions over the counter with the Consul official behind some impressively thick (bullet proof?) glass and with the rest of the masses sitting 3 metres listening behind me. I was expecting a full on grilling-type interview where you had to convince them that you weren't actually trying to immigrate to the US, so it was a shock that the interview was so casual. Casual in a stern, no-nonsense, official way.

For some reason the presence of the crowd (aka other people sitting there waiting) at my back made me nervous answering the questions about the purpose and duration of my stay, and the few other standard queries, that were asked by the youngish American guy behind the glass. My nerves didn't affect my application luckily and soon my application was being given the OK. Time taken: 3 mins, max. Then it was back waiting (of course) before I was called to pay my issuance fee at the adjacent counter. It turned out that the cashier had overlooked my payment however and after 30 mins diligently listening for my number (which was never called) I went up and got it all sorted out. Given the very regimental and intimidating feel of all the proceedings, it took me about 10 mins to decide it was worth going up to ask what was going on. Wuss! I know. Soon however, I was struggling to pull open the metal door on my way out, I was weak with hunger, ahem, and escorted out of the building.

I was impressed at how efficient the Consulate were in issuing the visa after the interview process. After a Thursday morning interview I had my passport delivered on Monday by Platinum Express post. Time taken: 3 days or so, impressive, most impressive. That Monday morning when the delivery guy knocked on the door I was still in bed. The knocking instantly woke me up and I immediately knew it was my passport being delivered. I leaped out of bed, signed for the delivery, excitedly ripped open the satchel and gazed at the visa that covered an entire page of my passport.

It had all the usual stuff you'd expect on a visa, place of issue, my name and passport number but what immediately caught my eye was the heading 'Control number' with a list of digits underneath.

Control number, huh?

Two lines of thought ran through my head;
1. Does this mean I unwittingly received a brain-controlling implant during my visit to the US Consulate? o.O *adjusts tin-foil hat*

2. Being the nerd that I am, I thought Control, cool, Get Smart and Agent 86. I checked my delivery satchel for the Control Agent standard-issue shoe phone, but alas, there was none. You know, the hilarious 80's spy comedy TV show Get Smart? The Cone-of-silence? 99, the Chief and ...oh, nevermind...

Agent's 86 and 99. The old phone in the shoe trick. Gotta love that stunned-mullet look they both have.

Yeah, dunno what was going through my brain that morning but I had just gotten up if that's any defense.

I've always had the impression that a passport could not be damaged/modified in any way whatsoever, so it was strange to see a business sized envelope attached to the back cover of my passport with big-ass staples that defaced the distinctive and previously unblemished material of the passport cover. I forget what was printed on the envelope, but it had words to the effect of 'Do not open, US customs only' on the front, and at San Francisco airport I saw that only my visa forms were inside.

Five days after I received my visa, I was in Boston starting a new chapter of my life.

So that was my visa process, and in a nutshell;
Visa fees: $433
Train ticket to consulate: $3.60
Time spent completing the entire Visa process: Pricel.....oh shit, that's for Mastercard....

OK there's no excuse for that lame 'joke' *hangs head and shuffles away in shame to a dark corner*.

Here's an infinitely more amusing joke that is somewhat predictable but remains, priceless.

Priceless fun, episode 1

Following from my dream about visa stress that I posted the other day, here's a recount about my real-life visa experience.

Getting a visa to the US can be a confusing experience. There are a plethora of forms and procedures that must be followed rigorously, and that have to be coordinated with the immigration specialist who is overseeing your application. The specialist in my case was from my current workplace.

There are two major classes of visas that can be applied for. An immigrant visa which means you want to live in the US permanently (think Green card), or a non-immigrant visa which is for a temporary stay. Within those two major categories, there are a number of different visa types that you apply for, depending on your profession, length of stay in the US and other factors. My visa is a non-immigrant J-1 visa, which is a type of foreign exchange visa, and is valid for 3 years.

The visa application forms all have official sounding names, like DS-2019, and on each document is information on how long it should take you to complete the form. How nice. For example, the 'estimated burden' noted at the top of DS-158 is one hour. Although it didn't take me an hour, that form was particularly annoying, as it required digging up long forgotten dates, phone numbers etc., in order to complete the work/education history questions in the form.

Aside from the forms there are the inevitable fees to pay in the visa process. Many fees to pay.

For a J-1 visa there's (in $AUD):
$ 126 SEVIS fee paid online.
$ 130 application fee paid at the post office
$ 136 issuance fee paid at the consulate
$ 14 Visapoint fee paid online
and an appropriate self addressed envelope (Express post, courier satchel for example, ~$ 12) for them to return your passport.

Plus in Australia, our passport photo size is not suitable for the application so I had to go get a US passport sized photo (5 cm squared) from a list of suggested places on their website, for ~$ 15.

For a student, all these fees add up to a severe dent in the monthly beer budget. $433 worth of beer to be more precise. Do you accept cash? Cha-ching!

After the application is in order you go for an interview at the Consulate, which you book using their online system called Visapoint ($14 fee thanks very much). The waiting time for an interview varies for each visa (up to 3-4 weeks); the US Department of State website lists current waiting times. I noticed that for a J-1 visa the Sydney Consulate only offered interviews once a week. Additionally, I found out the hard way that the Consulate is prone to shutting down for "routine maintenance" with very little notice, so if you need a visa, plan well ahead.

The US Consulate General in Sydney is high up in the MLC centre in the heart of the city, and not surprisingly, there is some serious security before you step a foot into the embassy. First off, the interview confirmation email tells you to not take any laptops, cell phones (that's mobiles in Aussie-speak) or any electronic equipment. Kinda strict huh?

No iPod for the inevitable waiting periods, how cruel.

Plus, before you go into the Consulate proper, which is high up in the tower, you go to a lower level for initial processing. It's there that you go through the first of two security checkpoints and where all bags get left with security (sheesh, don't people read instructions? I was a bit peeved that I actually could have taken a bag and iPod, which would have made the train journey into the city more bearable). 10 mins after walking into the 'pre-Consulate' I had my first wait. Time taken: 5 mins, not bad. It was for a brief interaction with someone who checked I had all the appropriate paperwork/fees paid, after which it was another wait for a security guard to escort me to the lift and send me up to the Consulate proper. Time taken: 5 mins, tolerable.

Another identification and security check, and then through a massively heavy metal door to grab a ticket and wait. A US flag flanked the heavy door, and the largish room was semi-divided into two similar looking waiting areas. Everyones attention was divided between the large LED screens lit with ticket numbers, and the people walking to the bank of counters along one wall. So I obediently took a number, and with gritted teeth I sat zombified under the harsh office lights with 30-40 other people, all perched on uniform gray plastic chairs, and watched the staff conscientiously stamping documents behind the counter. You could almost smell the ink-pads and copy-paper bureaucracy in the air. There was a large window with a fabulous view of the sunny cityscape near me, but due to the chairs orientation, only the back of my head enjoyed the view. Go figure.

Symbols of American immigration. The grainy photo of the Statue of liberty was snapped by yours truly from the Staten Island ferry, New York, 2005, while the superbly focused photo of the flag was lifted off the net, shhh.

Yes! My number flashes on the LED screens. Time taken: 10 mins, OK, considering all the people I see. I walked to the counter, handed over my documents which were whisked away and then told to rejoin the masses until I was called up for the interview. Again I wait.

The other people waiting look as bored as I do. There's a little quiet chatter and a surprising number of people are quite young. From what I gather, they are also exchange visa applicants for US summer camp leaders and the like, which explained why so many of them looked fairly sporty, tanned and pleasing to the eye. My number gets called again. Time taken: 45 mins, even with the nice scenery, not happy. Thinking how much I missed my iPod and getting hungry, very not happy.

I walk up to the counter, aware of the entire room watching my every step.

To be continued...

For episode 2, click here.

Forms of bread

I had a weird, very vivid dream last night that made me wake-up feeling anxious. In my dream I was filling out visa/immigration forms for my move to the US, but instead of paper, the forms were long crusty bread rolls that were split lengthwise into several bready pages. So I was filling out the questions and I suddenly realised I had made a major mistake in a key question. Panicking, I went to the immigration counter nearby and asked for another form. My request was denied and I was told to do the best I could do. At the denial, I got really worried and started to sweat profusely, such that my insanely sweaty palms caused the ink to come off the crust of the bread where I had written one of my answers. Then I woke up. Read what you want into the dream you budding Dreamweavers. Maybe it had to do with me needing to buy a bread knife?

I'm no bread snob but the bread in Boston is awful by the way. For starters there are almost no bakeries, except for those inside supermarkets. The packaged run-of-the-mill sliced supermarket bread that isn't baked on the premises is dreadfully sweet and should be in the confectionery aisle. It tastes very similar to McDonald hamburger buns. White, wholemeal, wholegrain, multi-grain, it doesn't matter, it's all bloody sweet. The only decent bread convenient to me, comes from the in-house bakery of a supermarket chain called Wholefoods. They do a tasty selection of sourdough loaves which are frequently still warm when I go shopping after work. Yum.

Sweet bread dude! My lunch would be so much happier with some non-sweet tasting, normal, freakin bread.

Wholefoods is a great place to shop for food, and I buy all my fresh produce from there. They're big with organic produce and other good quality stuff, and I guess they cater for the more eco-friendly, health conscious, save-the-whales type crowd. The alternate, cheaper supermarket where I get all the basics and non-perishable food is called Shaws. It's the harsh fluorescent lighting, junk food heavy, disinterested clerks (check-out chicks in Aussie-speak), typical American supermarket kinda place, where believe it or not, rice and tinned tomatoes are in a separate section for 'exotic' type foods. The section is called 'Food from the world' or some shit like that.

I bought a bread knife tonight so hopefully my dreams won't be about bread, sweet or otherwise. Sweet dreams everyone.