Cuz there ain't no doubt I love this land...

The process that started with a gynacological exam at the American Embassy in Bombay in 1996, ended on April 10th as I was sworn in as an American citizen.

The date was incredibly auspicious because it is my mom's birthday. She's the one who insisted that we were moving to America whether we liked it or not, and filed the papers. After 14 years of filing, we were called into the Embassy in Bombay for an interview, and the above mentioned medical exam.
I don't remember much about the interview except that my mom warned us not to "sound stupid".

Until that day, we all regarded her plans with mild amusement, never really believing it would happen, until we were sent packing on a plane. Apparently she wasn't kidding.
Oh and um, she's still in India, not quite ready to leave herself.

So anyway, the swearing-in ceremony was in Nob Hill, up the street from where I go to law school. I had two hours free before my first class of the day... I could run up, get sworn and not miss Corporations! Perfect timing!

I rolled out of bed. I wore green, with mismatched blue socks (that were very visible through my Steve Madden shoes.) They would turn me back for either wearing an Islamic colour, or more likely, being woefully underdressed.

All to-be citizens were seated in this huge auditorium--over 1000 of us, with families in the balcony. There were tons of babies waving American flags. People were so happy!


There was a huge stage in front of us with a table draped in blue, a podium and a giant screen. Of course, some middle school's colour guard came in and raised the flag.

First, we were shown a video of the "History of Ellis Island". You could see the historical island and the boats slowly pulling up, carrying hundreds of people, the Statute of Liberty in the background. My heart swelled because I felt like I was a part of history. I felt Jewish, I felt Polish, I felt like I was in the 1900s.

Then the boats docked and a hundred fat, pasty American Tourists with fanny packs and piggy toes sticking out of tray-like sandals got off.

The Mexican woman next to me burst out laughing. Apparently this wasn't a historical film, but a modern summer's day in America. A statistic flashed by on screen. Since 1900, America has naturalized 1.2 million immigrants! That's it??? Clearly, they're not catching all of us. Los Angeles has more illegal immigrants west of the 405! My Mexican friend handed me a stick of chewing gum to feel more American. I did.

Then George Bush came on and told us to be proud. No one clapped.

Then passport services told us what we all wanted to know -- where the applications could be dropped off.

Then ANOTHER video. A song. The National Anthem? No. Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American." It wasn't the Mtv version but from the Dept. of Homeland Security, who had directed children running through fields, a scratchy photograph of Mt. Rushmore popping up on screen occasionally.

Everytime he sang "God Bless the USAAAAAA-AAAA!" it cut to hundreds of new citizens leaping up and waving flags. After the last booming crescendo, the auditorium fell silent.

The Mexican woman next to me leaned over and said, "You know, if it were 9/11 today, we'd have been sworn in and kicked out of here an hour ago. That's what happened to my husband."
And I wished for a terrorist attack for a fraction of a second, before the absolute blasphemy of the thought in that place and time shamed me.

They began calling out each country's name alphabetically and one by one, we stood up.
I was Australia, so I was standing pretty early and got a good view of the Bolivians rising etc. The whole room before me was seated quietly, with a couple of people popping up here and there.

Until they got to China.

EVERYBODY stood up and we could have gone home right then and there. The Chinese are still coming to America apparently. Yemen was last (What? Zimbabwaeans are still here illegally?) and then we said the pledge.

Little old lady with blue hair, a blue school-teachers suit from the 50s and a quavering voice led us through the national anthem. I was mentally patted myself on the back for not having to read the lyrics like everyone one else.
You see, I was in my school's choir.

I stopped singing abruptly. Apparently, after 2 years of choir I only know the half the anthem because I never paid attention when the sopranos sang their parts.

Everybody cheered, and officers came up to our seats and handed us our Naturalization Certificates.

I caressed it for two seconds, put it in with my passport application and handed it back. Now I can leave for vacation whenever I want.

I joined the throng exiting. There were reporters and television crew outside, along with a long line of drivers cursing these "bloody immigrants" for blocking up the street again. Its San francisco, what else could this crowd be, but a protest?

Evading the Vote Republican! tables, I ducked into the cathedral across the street.

I walked up the aisle. I felt my arms, my legs, my gut. I felt the same. I thought of the flag. I felt the same. I closed my eyes and briefly considered changing my name to Stephanie.

I opened my eyes and saw the altar.

It felt like I was back in Europe. I only visit God on tour. I prayed and prayed for an answer of where I'm supposed to be and where I will end up and where I will find my life.

Then I walked out in the sun and called my mother to wish her Happy Birthday.