It was definitely interesting.
While I was waiting, there comes in this one (shorter) guy with a (stylish) (dark) beard and a long ponytail and tattoos all up and down his right arm covering every single inch of his flesh there, and he has on a tight light-colored t-shirt and tight very light-colored stone-washed jeans, and from what I gathered of the language, he got married over there but divorced over here, and now he needs them to send documents back over there, and he kept talking very loudly distinctly, probably so they could hear him on the other side of the thick bullet-proof glass counter divide, and he kept saying, "No problem, no problem."
And, meanwhile, I'm like, "What the fuck is this country?"
Later, when I submitted the documents and signed all the forms, I apologized to the consul in their language for not speaking the language better, and then he spoke at length in their language and I caught like none of it, and so he translated it into English for me, and was like, "When you get the passport, you can go to [the ethnic minority region where your family comes from], get married, and learn to speak better [the ethnic minority language] *and* [the national language]."
Isn't that just a generous response?
Also, when he was looking through my new criminal background check that he had requested I get like a month-and-a-half ago, too, he stuck his finger on the paper and was like, "Oh oh oh, it says here, you smoke marijuana."
And I was like, "Oh no, I don't smoke marijuana!", and he was like, "It's a joke."
I also noticed that the chairs in their waiting room were two of the three colors of their flag, so I texted a few friends from that country, that I was wondering why they didn't have the third color represented in their chairs.
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