Saturday, June 12, 2010

Update continued

I haven't felt like writing in a while. A lot of things have gone on. Things that I can't believe happened. Things that feel more like a nightmare than a part of my life.

Last update I had was that I had an appointment for May 3 at the Consulate in Ciudad Juarez. I was so excited. The moment I had been waiting for for so long was finally here. I was anxious, nervous, but confident that it would go well. I had done everything the right way, hadn't I? I had filed my paperwork as soon as I was able to, I had payed fee after fee after fee. I never crossed the border ilegally, never had job ilegally, never even ran a red light! So I knew in my heart that I was gonna get the prize! all the hard work was gonna finally pay off.

So I bought a plane ticket to the most dangerous city on earth. That would not stop me, that would not spoil the moment. John went with me, to help me out, to be there for me if I needed anything and simply to keep me company. So early on Wednesday,April 28 two good friends gave us a ride to the airport.

I don't mean to be supersticious, but this trip seemed jinxed from day one. When I went through security at the airport, I immideatly got pulled to the side. They questioned me about what i had in my backpack "Any ilegal substances?" they asked...mmmm I don't think so. I don't think I've ever had any ilegal substances on me, specially not if I'm going through customs! Well, they searched me, patted me down, question me and gave up. Ugh, I was nauseous. I thought that was a horrible experience, but of course I didn't know what was yet to come.

We arrived in El Paso. I had to be in Juarez early the next morning for my medical exam. We crossed to Juarez, I went for the exam, where the experience I can only compare to being a cow herded to the slaughter house. I finally got out of there. And we decided to go back to El Paso to wait for Monday. Big mistake.

When I got to the border, I showed my border crossing card, the agent asked what I was gonna do in El Paso, and honest me says, I'm going to spend the weekend. He says I need a special permit, a visa. So I go in and ask. The agent inside says, "you don't need a visa" just go ahead. So I go with a different agent and I say the guy inside told me a didn't need a visa. Well, another agent gets involved and they ask me what do I plan to do in El Paso, so me, being honest again, say "I'm gonna stay in a hotel till Monday, when i have to be back for an appointment at the consulate" Oh well, if anybody ever told you that honesty pays, this wasnt the case. They started questioning me, I only answered with the truth. They decided i was trying to ilegally migrate to the USA, therefore I was a law braker and a criminal. I told the guy I didn't know and could he just please let me go back to Mexico, that I would just stay there till Monday then. Yeah, not happening. He accused me of trying to bribe him. They bring me inside, where they do the "investigations" and I get handcuffed to a chair after beign mug shot and patted down"protocole" they said. Lucky for me, they didn't do a deportation (which wouldv'e automatically stop my residency process), they only did a voluntary withdrawl "it will only be a couple hours" they said at 5 pm. "We need to process you"

I was put in a cell. In my 30 years of life I had never seen the inside of a jail cell till then. I was crying. I was scared. I was mad. I was alone. I didn't know what was gonna happen. I kept crying. I was held for 12 hours aprox. When I got too cold inside the cement and steel cell I asked for a blanket, which they gave me. When I got hungry I had to bang on the window for one of the officers to come, he came and said he'd get me something, but he forgot. After a few more hours I asked again, that time I was lucky enough to get a half frozen burrito. (everyone knows that's what we mexicans eat right). I cried off an on. I was sad. I was embarrased. How could this be happening? I wanted to go home. At some poing one of the officers asked why was I crying, all I could manage to say was "I just wanna go home" to what he replied laughing, "Oh me too, and I am going home" since I guess it was the end of his shift.

At two in the morning, after being questioned like a criminal, I was set free. With my belongings in a plastic bag with my name. I kept the bag a souvenier. As something to remind me that THAT really happened. That one day I was treated like a criminal and put in jail.


to be continued.....

p.s. I don't have spell check so ignore the mistakes please :)

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Update

A lot of you already know what happened. A lot of you don't know yet.

Long story short Immigration needs aproximately 12 months to finish reviewing my case, they then will give me an answer. Sad part is, I can't go back to the states at all while they are deciding. And the answe after 12 months (or longer) could still be no.

Needless to say, this was completely unexpected. I tried to do things the right way, I filed form after form, payed fee after fee and this is my reward.

Anyhow, all I can do is wait, wait, wait, the waiting game again.

I will post the long version soon.....

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Almost there....

It was a Tuesday night like any other, my children were already in bed, and I took a minute to check email. As I scrolled down my inbox deleting all kinds of spam offering giveaways or selling me from weigh loss products to Viagra, I ran into the email I've been waiting for for the last month. The Visa center finally emailed me with my final interview date for my permanent residency.

May 3rd, May 3rd, May 3rd!! A month away.I have a visa appointment in a month in CD Juarez, Mexico. I had to cover my mouth to keep from shouting from excitement and waking up the children. Emotions flooded me, from happiness and excitement, to fear and panic. I finally have a date, I know this is happening, but I don't know what the outcome will be.

The next morning I gave my children the news, this immigration process is as old as my son, so they are very familiar with the situation and words like, visa, green card, deportation, etc. The first words out of my son were, "what if the don't let you come back mommy?". My heart skipped a beat, what if they don't let me come back? I couldn't allow myself to think that. I told him not to worry, "we will cross that bridge when we come to it". My daughter wanted to know if we would have to move back to Mexico, do we have to leave school, leave our house, our friends, our pets? I told them all we could do was hope for the best. All those questions, all those worries, all the what ifs have made our lives a little more stressful that it needs to be. But it's almost over. It has been a long ten months. Ten months of waiting, ten months of wondering, ten months of not knowing and not being able to plan ahead, ten months of constant change, but it's almost over, I'm almost there.


On May 3rd I will know,I wont wonder anymore, I will be able to plan my future a little better, I'll know where I'll be. Weather it's the country that saw me come into this world, the country that saw me new and young, the country I call home. Or the country that saw me become and adult and change into who I am today, the country were my children were born. The country that my children call home.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Have you ever heard people say, "God has a sense of humor"... Well, I can almost say for a fact, that He does. And if you don't believe in God, then Life, Karma, whoever or whatever spins the world, must have a great sense of humor.

I remember being a teenager and hating house chores, I hated cleaning my room, doing my laundry, doing dishes, anything that had to do with cleaning. I was the filthiest, messiest, laziest teenager ever. My two sisters, and even my brother kept their rooms pretty neat. I used to share a room with my youngest sister, we literally had a line dividing our space. I remember walking into the room, the side on the far right, clean, neat, bed made, stuffed animals all in a row on the bed, laundry picked up. The side on the left, my side, you could barely make out the outline of the bed, covered with laundry, books, tapes, and probably left overs from the dinner plates I would bring to eat while I read.
One day, my little sister decided she was tired of my mess and she moved out of our room and moved in with my oldest sister. Needless to say, I was not even aloud in their room. And needless to say, my mess took over the right side, my mess was now free to lay wherever it pleased.

My parents didn't even bother going in my room to tell me to clean up anymore, the only area that stayed neat was my book shelf, oh how I loved those books. Anyway, long story short, I hated cleaning.

Well, I've been back in the states for six months, and guess what I do for a living....Yes, I clean.

Funny thing is, I love it. By doing what I hate the most, I've gotten so many things in return.
Twice a week I clean at a 24 hr gym, where, not only the people that work there are nice to me, I also get a free membership to they gym, and who wouldn't love that! I get to go there any time I want and work out.

I also clean a house. I clean a house for the nicest people I've met so far. In exchange for cleaning, I get to use an apartment attached to their house, and I don't have to pay bills, all I have to do is try to keep the house clean for them. I don't think they understand how this deal has made such a difference in my life. They have opened their house and their heart to me. They trust me, they trust their house and their pets to me. And they don't expect much in return. A few dishes, a few loads of laundry....I would do that and much more for all the things I'm getting out of this....

I remember being a teenager, mumbling curse words under my breath every time I had to pick something up, or dust something or wash something, now, I thank God there's something for me to clean up, the only words I mumble are Thank you, Thank you, Thank you......

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Oath

According to the Webster dictionary an Oath is a solemn, usually formal calling upon God or a god to witness to the truth of what one says or to witness that one sincerely intends to do what one says (2) : a solemn attestation of the truth or inviolability of one's words b : something (as a promise) corroborated by an oath.

This past Tuesday I attended Jose's oath ceremony to become a US citizen. It was held at a courthouse in the area, a lot of people, from a lot of different countries were there to go through the process of swearing in.

It was a very emotional day for everyone. I can't speak for Jose, but I'm sure he was happy, it was something he had worked hard for this last year. For me, well, what can I say, I am more than happy, I'm excited, I'm anxious, I'm hopeful, because him taking a step further and becoming a citizen, means I'm a step closer to becoming a resident, a step closer to a good job, to being fully independent, closer to that feeling of FREEDOM.

At the ceremony I loved listening to all the different accents, to me it's just amazing how the same language can change so much yet still mean the same.

The judge leading the ceremony gave a speech about what it meant to be a citizen, people took their oath and then everyone said the Pledge of Allegiance.

He also spoke about how becoming a citizen made them Full Americans, not Mexican-Americans, not Russian-Americans, not any kind of hyphenated American, but simply Americans.

One of the most moving moments for the audience was when the judge asked the new citizens to, in their words, express what it meant to them to be an American...people took turns talking about their experiences, about how long they had waited for that moment, about how long ago they had left their countries and so on.

A young beautiful woman spoke about how her dream was to become a nurse and how her dream had come true in America. Another woman spoke about how hard it had been for her to make the decision of becoming a citizen, since she was (and is) so fond of her homeland.

But there was a middle aged man that got up to speak, and he said something that to me just shows exactly what it is to become an American, this what he had to say...I quote.."When I first came to this country I asked my self; what can this country do for me? what does this country have to offer me? But now, as an American I ask myself, What can I do for this country? What do I have to offer this country, MY COUNTRY"

I'm sure every new citizen had their own story to tell, their own hardships to go trough before taking that oath, their own country to miss, but I'm also sure that every one of them thinks of America as their home.

It will be a long time before I get to stand before of a judge to take that oath, a long time before I get to hold a certificate stating that I am AN AMERICAN, but I know that that day will come, and I know that I will be ready to call America MY HOME.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Has it really been that long?

Wow, almost exaclty a year ago was my last entry on this blog. Many things have happened since then, some good, some bad.... Well, thankfully my son recovered fully from his dive from a second story house onto concrete....it will be a year of that on the 23rd.....I'm back in the US, yes, back where the days are slow and winter is cold...not much has changed in town....but there have been many changes in my life....I've met new people, I've made new friends. Sadly I've also lost many friends, some I regret losing, some I now realize weren't really such a big loss. I guess my new life style doesn't fit into their perfect life style, maybe, I don't know.

I've become this horrible person, that does what she wants without worrying what people say, I've gotten closer to God and farther from church, I've given up an unhealthy relationship that only caused hurt, I've taken jobs cleaning houses and selling hotdogs, just so I can be independant, I've started a relationship with a guy that takes me on bike rides and is not scared of showing me (or anybody else) how in love he is with me.....and the worse thing....I AM HAPPY.. yeah, shocking! According to some people I should be miserable, actually according to some people I look miserable! and bitter! well, maybe some days I am miserable and bitter, but honestly, most days, specially those days I get to hang out with my children or when I am on the back of a motorcycle on Skyline drive, I'm happy.

And I don't have to worry anymore about seeming happy all the time, and having this happy face for the world and worry that my friends or people at church would know how really my marriage is not that great and my life is not that good, and I'm really not that happy and I better load up on my antidepressants and antianxiety just to make it through one more day of my perfect little life in my perfect little house with the white picket fence.

Thank goodness my life is not perfect anymore ( I sometimes miss the house though, haha), my life is a mess, I'm going through a nasty separation, and not looking forward to the actual legal divorce, I have to "share" my kids with my ex so I don't see them two weekends a month, I sell hot dogs one day and clean toilets the next, I have a boyfriend that is crazy about me(yes, I have a boyfriend, and yes I'm still not fully divorced). I've been labeled and pointed at and what not, I feel like I live out of my car sometimes, and my true friends I can count with the fingers of one hand, but like I said, I'm happy, I'm not afraid to say it.....

This last year many things happened, many things changed, but the most important thing is that I've realized what it is that I really wanted....I came up with a phrase that keeps popping in my head every time I feel like I should care about what people have to say..."I lived my teens doing what my mom wanted me to do, I lived my 20's doing what my husband (ex) wanted me to do, I plan on living my 30's doing what I want to do" and, THAT, my friends is the truth....

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is not a holiday in Mexico. We don't have a big turkey dinner or get days off from school or work. But it's one of my favorite holidays, and one I celebrated every year when I lived in the USA. I think that giving thanks is a good thing, something people should do more often, and this year I have a lot to be thankful for.

Last Sunday, November the 23rd to be exact, started like any other Sunday since I've been in Mexico, I got up early to catch up with laundry and house keeping, the kids and I had a late breakfast, we played with the dogs outside, the hours rolled in while we worked around the house and it got to late to make it to church so we just skipped it. After lunch, the kids went upstairs to watch tv while I worked on my planning for the coming week.

I was sitting at the dining room table, right across from the window that looks into the patio, a big window that lets in enough outside light, perfect for filing papers, planning class, and catching up on grading and tests, I could hear the kids playing upstairs, all of a sudden I hear a noise and as I look up and out the window, I saw the screen from the upstairs window make it's way to the ground, then, right then, right that second, my life came to a stop, time froze for an instant, only to start again like a slow motion film, it was the longest yet fastest second of my life, right after the window's screen hit the ground, I heard a yell and I saw my 5 year old boy, my baby, my life, flying, falling to the ground. I screamed, I stood up and ran outside, still screaming, with a voice I had never heard before, like a wounded animal. I don't know how long it took for his little body to hit the hard tile floor, I don't know how long it took me to run outside, it must have been minutes, but to me it felt like an eternity. When I came outside he was already in all fours trying to get up, he was crying and I could see he was badly hurt, I felt like fainting, but probably mother's instinct and adrenaline prevented me from passing out, I picked him up and ran outside, screaming, yelling for help, my 7 year old daughter tagging behind me.

The neighbors, who had heard the horryfing screaming, were already coming out of their houses to see what had happened, one of them immidiately started calling for an ambulance, I ran with my son in my arms to my mom's house, she lives about half a block away from me, another set of neighbors took me and my son in their car to the ER of a private hospital (Hospital del Nino), my mother took my daughter and called my sister so they could meet us at the hospital, my dad was out of town, so my sister need to give my mom a ride.


Eli hadn't lost consciousness at all, he was crying, but it was a little faint cry, on our ride to the hospital, about 5 minutes from the house, I kept looking him in the eye begging him not to fall asleep. When we got there, I put him on one of the stretchers and a doctor came to check him and asked what had happened, they kept talking to him, asking him if he knew where he was and if he knew who I was, he answered to all the questions, but he was in a lot of pain, and I could see he was starting to drift away, so I kept touching his hand, afraid to touch anything else, in case his bones were broken, and telling him he would be OK, but the worst thing was, I really didn't know if he was gonna be OK.

My mom, my sister and little Paloma got there a few minutes after us, and it was on the next hour when I wished I had never come back to this country, to a country that claims itself free and of high family values, and no discrimination and so on. This private hospital we were at, is subsidized by the government, is not as expensive as real private hospital, but it's not free either, it's a pediatrics specialized hospital, and that's the reason I brought my child there. Obviously my son needed X rays, to look for fractures, he needed an IV, to give him a medicine that would prevent a seizure in case of skull fracture and brain bleeding, well, I didn't have cash, of course I didn't, I don't even know how I had shoes on, I don't remember putting on my shoes, I don't remeber if I had them on before I ran out of the house, because I'm usually barefeet in the house, so of course I had no money, and the doctors couldn't do anything, they couldn't take care of my baby, because services have to be paid for before they do them. Are these people crazy? When was I supposed to stop by an ATM, before or after I picked him up from the ground? So we asked them to transfer him to hospital that's under the Social Security, which I have right to since I'm employed and I pay taxes, so it's free when you are employed, well, he needed and ambulance ride to get there, which of course, I had to pay for in cash!! Since I had no money and I wasn't about to leave my child there to go figure out a way to get 1ooo pesos, they said I could call the Red Cross for an ambulance, but the Red Cross policy is to call the hospital from where the service is being requested to get info about the patient, to make a long story short, the hospital told the Red Cross that the child wasn't in grave danger and we didn't need an ambulance, this without Xrays to rule out a fractured spine.

The hospital wouldn't release my son without first taking off the IV with the medicine to prevent seizures, and while my mom argued with the doctors, I took the IV from the little hook and grabbed my boy and ran out the door. My mom and daughter ran after me and jumped in the car with us and we took him to Seguro 1., where thank God, he was seen by a doctor and sent to Xrays right away. I still can't believe the other hospital would deny us service because we couldn't pay in cash at the moment, I offered them a credit card, but of course, they don't take credit, I told them I would get someone to go get cash for me, but that had to go through the administrators office first, of course to me, all this felt like a waste of precious minutes, minutes that could make the difference in my child's life. What kind of country is this? That's all I could think off, and I wished I was back in Virginia, where I knew they wouldn't have asked for cash right away, even if I had to spend the rest of my life writing montly checks to the hosptial, he would've been taken care off right away. The Social Security hospital where we were at is really not what you think a hospital should be like, and although the doctors are great, and well prepared and experienced, the hosptial itself is terrible, there were roaches crawling all over the floor, there's no single rooms, all the "salas", sections are over crowed, only one relative per patient can be there, and all you get is a little chair to sit on, that's if there's any chairs available, there's no soap in the bathroom, no toilet paper, the equipment is old, anyhow, I really wished I was back in American soil, even if Ihave to put up with the eternal questions of "How you got here? Do you all speak Mexican?" I could hear those questions again and again and not get tired of them as long as my children are getting proper medical care.

Miracoulosly, after a two day stay in the hospital, a CAT scan and a whole collection of X rays, my son came home with nothing but a couple bruises, all the doctors and nurses that took care of him in the hospital kept calling him "miracle boy", because they couldn't explain how after a fall like that, 5 meters down onto hard concrete, he was even alive, they couldn't explain either how none of his bones were broken or how come he was awake the whole time, except for night time, he pretty much kept his regular bedtime even in the hospital.

So this years Thanksgiving was very special to me and my family, and eventhough I didn't get out of work till 9 that night, and eventhough we didn't have a nice turkey dinner, I was very grateful, I'm thankful that my baby boy is OK, and that little Paloma was such a good sport and stayed at her aunt's house for a couple days without complaining, and that eventhough she was scared, she knew mommy couldn't be with her and she had to be strong, I'm thankful for my parents, because they were there for me the whole time, they helped out in everyway they could, and I'm grateful I have such great sisters, and a brother, who took care of my daughter, and brought Eli doughnuts when he got out of the hospital. I'm also thankful for my coworkers, who covered for me the day I had to miss and kept asking how my son was doing, and I thanful for all my friends here and in Virginia who sent get well wishes and prayers for us, for my relatives that stopped by the hospital to lend a hand, and the ones who called to check on us.
I'm grateful too, for the doctors that took care of him, eventhough the hospital is falling apart.

Hopefully soon enough I'll get a visa, so I can go back to the USA and be able to work and live there like any other American, and when I'm there, I'll celebrate Thanksgiving the American way again.