My Brother in law & Other Stories
By Johnny Novera

Chewing gum tourists

We were at the Italian Embassy in Makati last week  to apply  for a  visa.   Our appointment was at 9:30 a.m.  We arrived at 9:00 a.m. but we have to line up first at the entrance door on the ground floor of the building for screening  before going to  the 6 th floor  where the embassy is located..

When we reached  the 6 th floor, we  registered with the guard at the ante-room.  The embassy offices occupy two rooms opposite each other across the corridor. After leaving our  ID and  celphone with the guard,   we were led to  the office at the right   which  seats  about  100 applicants.  The other office is also full, seating about 200. We could not imagine that there will be so many people applying for visa to go to  Italy. 

 The set up in both offices are the same:  There is a large room  inside with three windows facing  the waiting area, plus one where a cashier   is stationed  to receive  the visa fees.  One has to speak louder because the glass window has no opening except about  an inch at the bottom. It is good that  the interviewer  has a microphone.  

 Most people there, like us, are applying for a tourist  visa.  If   the economy is bad,  why are there so  many  that would like  to travel? 

Our own  interview was finished. While waiting to pay the visa fee as our papers are being reviewed, we struck a  conversation with the girl beside us who  is just probably  in her early 30's.   We asked why  is she  visiting Italy too?   

  “I am going to Rome as a tourist,” she replied.  

 How lucky can you get, we told her. At your age and still single, you can already afford to go abroad on a tour.

 “Well, it is the only kind of visa that can be secured easier.”   she said.  “Actually, I am married.   My  husband is already there for two years and now  working,”  she truthfully told  us. 

 Why do you have to go too?  Do you have any children?  We asked. 

 “Well, we have three,”  she said.  “Two are already in school.  I am leaving them with my mother. I need to work also in order to send them to good schools.”

 Shortly, thereafter, her name was called at the window.   She stood up bringing with her a bunch of documents.   We wished her good luck.

A sign attracted our  attention pasted below the window:  “Please dispose of your bubble gum in the trash bin. Do not paste it under your seat.”

Our name was called shortly thereafter  to pay our visa fee. Then we left, wondering if that “single” girl was granted her tourist visa or  the janitor will find again bubble gums under the seat.  What a people we have become!