It's done with. The reason we turned around and went right back to this continent instead of continuing to Africa as was planed.
I went for my American Citizenship test and answered how many stars are on the flag, what's the name of the ship the pilgrims arived to this land on, and what the official home of the president is called. Bummer. I memorized all those Florida senators and representatives names for nothing. Shurik psyched me out, and even as we walked to the building I was rehearsing: what was the name of that senator? The fat guy from King of the Hill plus the mean kid from The Simpsons... Bill Nelson!... OK, good. And the Chief Justice? Julia Roberts, no, John Roberts!
I raised my hand and swore to tell the truth to the large woman behind the desk. As she familiarized herself with my file, I tried to figure out who she reminded me of, and finally got it. It was on a drive from one of our ski trips to Canada when we stopped at a liquor store in New Hampshire after just crossing the border. In NH there is no tax and alcohol is sold at bargain price in the the state owned the liquor superstore stores, so it wasn't the first time we replenished our bar at home this way. I was there with Shurik, my then soon to be husband, and two of his MIT classmates. Looking rather respectable in our ski coats (mine was the most expensive item in my whole wardrobe), we took what we came for and all four presented ID at the checkout counter. Twirling my green-card, the document that just permitted my entrance to the country, in her meaty fingers, the casher said a green-card is not an acceptable form of ID. "Why is that?" we asked. "Because there is to many of you people in this country." All I remember after that is Shurik taking me by the shoulders and out of the store.
My interviewer turned out to be fun. We joked around when she had to ask me if I was a communist or a nazi. I asked in return if it would hinder ones chances of getting citizenship if they were. She said it wouldn't. It almost came to a problem when she asked whether I was ever arrested... I wasn't sure what information this woman had in her computer and files, so I decided that telling the truth will get me in less trouble than potentially lying. The thing was that a month after we moved to the US, during my brief acquaintance with a US high school in Brooklyn NY, unaware of "procedure", I came out to buy a pack of smokes and was detained by truancy officers. I didn't even know what "truancy" was! The rest of that day I spent in the police station, in a room full of other "delinquents". Burt, Ernie, and the Cookie Monster were guarding us from its walls. I found the whole thing hilarious, though my poor mother didn't. The police called her at home and in their robotic fashion asked: "This is the NYPD. Do you have a daughter by the name of Sarit Reizin?" She thought the next sentence was going to be: "Well, you don't anymore." When my family came to pick me up, they came as an army. My father was still alive back then, and he brought a friend. Just in case. I couldn't help myself from saluting the rest of the troublemakers in that Cookie Monster room.
Overall, life is just as unpredictable as it was, with the date of the oath unknown, and my idea to take our niece Anna and her classmates on a field trip to an animal rescue center in Guatemala is in early planning stage. As soon as we finish setting that up with the school, we'll go to Honduras to get Dive Master certification. That should make exploring the underwater world in Asia much easier.
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stusik_i_sharik 
weird
sad
