But there is another thing I am worried about: the border control. I've heard weird things about strict officers and interrogations.
I've got a B2 Visa (it allows you to stay for more than 90 days) and I was told that they always have lots of questions and sometimes the entry fails. No matter what kind of Visa you have, the
officers in the US decide if they let you in or not - and they don't even need a special reason.
In the end there is relief: My officer only askes me why I need so much time for my trip and I explain it politely. Then I get the
stamp – and I'm in!
As good as everything is running so far, something has to go wrong. It happenes down in the metro system. Or in the metro itself. Whatever. I am lost in it. I'm taking the wrong trains in the wrong direction and the area is becoming shady. I have no phone
reception, I'm tired, I have to carry my entire luggage and so I start to panic. But then a kind man from the Caribbean (round about 50 years) with dreadlocks is coming in and helping me to find
my way back on the right line. We are starting to talk about art, New York and Jimi Hendrix. I'm so happy he is simply there. Moreover, he helps me with my luggage and I finally find my train. He
wants no money and he is not strange. Just a kind helping hand. I'm impressed.
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