
With life's every first, we experience varying and often mixed emotions. Excitement and exhilaration on a first date. Sorrow for first deaths in the family. Fear and nervousness on the first day of school.
In all my firsts in life, in all the years that I've been going to and undergoing all sorts of interviews, never had I felt anything akin to the utter terror I felt yesterday. They say there's always a first time for everything. And I hearily attest to that.
I started out my day unusually early. 4 am showers hasn't been part of my routine for the better part of 5 years. My colleague came by my place so we could head over to the embassy together. The rainshower added to the slightly dismal mood I had. When we got there, tons of people were already in line.
We got in with almost no hitch (except for the part where my colleague's 156 papers was questioned because the bar code wasn't a perfect print. We passed through x-ray inspection, again almost without a hitch (I was questioned about having a mobile phone inside my bag); later did I realize it must've been the car keys that had set off the alarm. We went through the next round of lining up to submit our papers and passport.
And as if I wasn't nervous enough, my 156 was then questioned because of the barcode. With a sigh of relief, the girl let me through. So we sat there waiting for our numbers to be called, still wondering what sort of privilege our PIP # actually gave us. Given the graphic description another colleague of mine had given me the day before when she was at the embassy for her interview, there should've been a stall selling food. With stomach growlings, we watched in longing as the stall opened just as our numbers were called. The siopao just weren't for us.
And so with heavy hearts, we headed over to another area for fingerprinting. When it was my turn, I stated my complete name and birthdate and placed my left index finger on the fingerprint screen. The woman asked me to press harder and when I did, she said "please don't press to hard."; so I eased my finger off and she goes "please press harder". 
Finally with the fingerprinting incident behind me, I headed of to yet another waiting room. The terror room. It was a few minutes past 8 AM when the consuls started opening their windows. The first to open was window 9. The first visitor was a set of grandparents and their grandchildren, intending to visit the parents of the kids in the US. Visa denied. The next person was a taxi driver applying for a tourist visa. Visa denied. The next was a girl applying for a B1/B2 visa. Visa denied. And the list goes on.
By the time my colleague was called over to window 5, I was in such utter terror I could've pissed my pants then and there. Anticlimactic as it is, we all got our visas without a hitch and in less than 15 minutes. Yellow.
It's amazing how one single piece of colored paper can change everything. So we left the embassy in jubilation and in search of food.