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 :)

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.....

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.

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......