Witnessing God’s Hand At Play

My wife and I passed the USMLE. We got selected to a University Psychiatry Program.

The ECFMG, governing body which conducts the USMLE exams all over the world, have ruled that we needed to get a No Objection Certificate from the country where we stayed for the last six months. They provide the sponsorship papers to get our J-1 visa, which is a training visa and on completion must return to the country which gives the NOC. Not registered in NZ as Physicians, the NZMC would not give, which was made clear to us by their reply to my query.

I went to India and got the NOC using our registration with the Indian Medical Council. We applied with the sponsorship papers from ECFMG at the US Consulate in Auckland. It was turned down, not once, twice or thrice but five times for reasons unknown to us at that time. My immediate older brother took up with the advisor, Chicago division, for ECFMG who promised to take up the matter with the Consulate. The advisor called me direct before calling the Consulate and assured me the misunderstanding would be resolved as they sponsor 10,000 applicants and has had no problem. She called me in AM around 6.45 and hell broke loose.

I was told that I misled the ECFMG. Getting a NOC from India was wrong. Our lives were on the hook. My kids had been taken out of school. The advisor asked us to get clearance from NZMC which was impossible. She wouldn’t victimize us if we did that.

It was all over. My family slept in a room provided by our friend. I cried openly saying that there was nothing I can do. My wife never gave up. It was 7 AM. She asked me to go to Wellington, NZ and speak to the Council. Looked like we both had no answers. No money to travel, no money to pay for airlines ticket, no money for stay and no way it was a done deal. I checked my address book. I had the address and phone number of a friend during the early seventies with whom I had lost contact. One of my friends before I left for NZ, gave me his address and phone number. I called.

My friend Timothy, was working for the customs and his wife worked for NZ telephones. He picked up the phone. “Hey, Timothy- this is Kripa”. Kripa, who-”Tim, you taught me boxing(he represented the State during his college days)". I rattled out the names I thought would help him to recall. He agreed with the names and incidents but had difficulty in figuring out who I was. I told him my situation. He asked me to come. He said it would cost 50 plus dollars to his place from the airport. No guarantees of any.

It was 7.30 AM. We called our ticketing agent, a Russian who was there for us in our times of distress. She agreed to collect the money for fare and her charges later. The flight was at 9.45 AM. My wife and kids drove me to the airport. I was the last to board.

I had borrowed 100 NZ dollars from our host. There was no room for error. If my friend sent me back after a cup of tea, I didn’t have money to rent a place or take a cab. But my friend didn’t. He welcomed me and on hearing our plight, called his wife over phone and explained our situation. She overwhelmed me with her love.

A contact, given by our host worked in the same building. I met with him and he took me to the floor where my destiny was about to be sealed. He left. I sat on a chair in a big conference room. The table was 30 feet in length and surrounded by chairs. I carried a briefcase with all our documents. And waited.

Fifteen minutes passed and then an old man in his mid to late sixties, came and sat on a chair that was on the other end. He started to eat. I looked at him, not knowing whether he was the one I am supposed to meet. He kept eating. Then he looked up and asked what I had come for. I went into a sales mode. I explained the situation. I opened the briefcase and brought out our certificates. I explained why I had come knowing the rules. Our lives depended on his word. I began to cry. I lost it. I gave up. There was nothing I could do to justify why the NZMC should help us. I pleaded. I choked. I was ready to die.

He finished his lunch and asked me to go home, to Auckland. Confused, I asked what his statement meant.. He looked at me in the eye and said,”You will get the clearance but it will be couriered to your home”. I broke down and sobbed. I had no way to understand whether he was speaking the truth. I left and called my wife. She asked me to stay behind till the papers arrived. It did.

We boarded the flight to USA in the next few days, with 500 dollars loaned to us by a friend, 20,000 NZ dollars in credit card debt and a new loan of 6000 USD from my brother. This is how we started our lives in USA- a new beginning in my midlife. It happened. It wouldn’t have but for the God's hand in play..

~Kripa.