Immigration Blues

Chaos reigns.

That was the phrase that echoed in my mind as I spent five hours in immigration on Tuesday.

Woody says my story reminds him of the Wizard of Oz. Dorothy finally manages to get an appointment to see the Wizard and is told to come back later. She learns there really is no such thing as an appointment with the Wizard.

Once again, I wished I had a camera at the immigration offices. Almost everywhere you turn, you can see a sign that says,

"Haga fila ."

If you want to learn Spanish, learn that phrase. It means, “Form a line.”

I don’t think it really matters where or for what purpose, but the key is simply to form a line.

Haga fila.

I’ll paste below my journal which I wrote in my Sony Clié as I spent those five hours in immigration.


7:30AM

HAGA FILA

I have seen two of those signs so far today. Lines should indicate someone knows something -that there is some purpose at the end of the line.

I first get in a line about 200 people long. There are no signs or officials to ask what the line is for. Everyone I asked was just guessing, but all those around me also had 8:15 appointments to have their residency card signed or renewed, so I must be in the right line. We see an official passing down the line, collecting appointment slips. The stack in his hand is about 3 inches deep so far. He suddenly disappears after getting within 50 feet of me.

8:10 AM - We have advanced a half block. The paper-collecting official suddenly reappears at door #2, shouting, "8:15 appointments!" 100 of us run to door #2, only to be turned away en masse. One or two manage to "dip their toes first in the stirred waters."

The rest of us hear and spread the rumor that there was a new "8:15AM appointment line.” My new position looks grimmer than the old one. Only 10 people are behind me in line! The line doesn't advance for 20 minutes.

8:30AM - We discover there is another 8:15 line... the line I originally was in! I've lost about 50 places in line by my switch.

9:10AM - An official starts calling the "9:15'ers" to line up; we start to panic. My "line mate,” Flavia, presses forward to get information. When she finally returns she tells me that all they told her was that she has a 10AM appointment, though her slip clearly says 8:15.

9:20 AM - Finally our papers are collected as we are shuffled through door #2 into a packed waiting room. They tell us, "Line up by the white wall.”

There are three white walls and masses of people. One white wall boasts a sign “HAGA FILA.” After lots of mumbling among ourselves, we finally determine there are no lines.

9:40 AM Every once in a while an official randomly appears in the room, calling out names. The masses migrate towards that spot, hoping to hear their names called. I can hear about 50% of the names called. No one seems sure whose name has been called. One interesting observation: when they call the occasional Chinese name the whole crowd laughs aloud. I’m glad I’m not Chinese here today. I fret over whether they will manage to pronounce my own English name. I’d hate to have 500 people laugh at my name!

There are rumors that one door is for residency card renewals, but no one seems to know. It’s fascinating to hear rumors fly in this crowd!

Two people told me my name was already called. I struggle to get information, but there is no way to verify it. I resort to asking the unfriendly, unhelpful guard. His terse reply is, "Wait to see. They'll call again."

10:00 AM - It seems like they call about 20 names per hour. The odds of mine being called today seem slim. My back is aching from standing so long. Thank God, one of the 40 chairs in the room frees up and I can sit down!

10:15 AM – I try hard to focus on a Bible study I brought along with me. It is one I’ve studied before on the fruit of the Spirit. It seems an appropriate subject to focus on. Scribbled in the margin on one page were these words in my handwriting: "Help me see this today! (Residency visa rejected. 3-18-04) Obviously, I had studied this very subject at a previous point in my immigration struggles.

You can trust only One to constantly be on the lookout for your best interests. Only One holds the future in His hands and knows Your part in that future.

10:30 AM - They just called one person to sign her residency card! I think that’s the first person in three hours to actually accomplish their goal. One down, hundreds to go. Averaging one every three hours. How long will that take?

11:30 AM – A woman from immigration filters through the crowds, checking papers. She looks at mine and states, "Firma." I know that means signature, but what am I supposed to do!?! I chase her and pester her for more specifics.

Her only reply?

"Wait."

A bystander overhears the interchange and tells me to go to the adjacent room to line #1.

A sign over Line 1 says, “Firma.” Wow! This sounds positive! I try to pass, only to be turned back by another official.

“Until we call your name, you cannot get in this line.” Several people join me in complaining that we can’t hear the names called and have no idea where they call out the names for signatures. He says, “I don’t know. You just have to be in that room and listen carefully.”

Another very angry official shows up and yells at me and the other information-seekers.

“If you aren't in other room when I call your name, you will be eliminated from the process.”

He waves a chart and says, “This person wasn’t in there and I’m filing the chart right now!” A man next to me shouts, “Whose chart is it?” But, it’s too late. That file and who knows how many others are out of play for today.

My anxiety level is rising. Chances are good that my name has been called and I never knew. I begin exchanging names with others and we pact to listen for one another’s names.

10:40 AM I elbow my way through the crowd back to the white walls. I decide to try asking the door guard again for information. He must know something!

He says, “Go to the back of the room.” Who knows which part of the room is the back of the room?!? I press him for clarification and finally he grunts, “By the chairs!”

11:15 AM I hear a voice call, "Number 4!"

Hundreds run, trying to locate the voice. I wonder, “What in the world does ‘number 4’ mean?!? I opt not to run, since I’ve managed to find a chair again. Good call! Nothing comes from the “Number 4” call.

11:45 AM- I meet a German woman, helping a fellow German through the immigration process. She had several enlightening comments. She says it's very likely I will wait 7 hours and never get in. She tells me they called an emergency meeting @ 9 bcause there were 300 falsified appointment slips presented for 8:15. She introduces me to a Cuban woman named Jency, saying we might as well be friends, since we are both in the same boat.

We hear someone call out, "8:15!"

At least 100 people shout, waving umbrellas. I press forward to consult Flavia, a previous line mate and name detective.

“Flavia, what’s happening?”

“Nothing. They just called out our time, but that’s all.”

I find a vacant seat near Yency. I feel for her – she’s here with her seven year old son, enduring all of this.

12:15 PM We hear another voice. Though I didn’t hear what was said, Yency says, “Let’s go!” Once again we all ran. I couldn't believe my own ears! The third name called was close to mine.

Susan Janet.

No one laughs. The crowd makes room for me to pass. I am handed a paper and given a one word command: REGRESE. "Come back."

Incredulous, I turn to those surrounding me.

"Did he just tell me to come back?"

Somberly, empathetically they all nod.

Scribbled at the top of my appointment slip it says, "Return on October 12th."

As I fend my way through the crowds to Door #2, I cry. I don’t even care that others see me crying. They understand

Through my tears, I ask the door guard where to get in line when I return on the 12th. He gives me yet another vague reply, sweeping his arm. "Who can know?" he shrugs.