In the meantime...

 I had a couple of weeks between my interview and waiver appointment. It was a perfect opportunity to spend time with my family. I hadn't seen most of them in almost twenty years, and I was really excited about spending time with them. Buying a couple of plane tickets would also be less expensive than staying in Ciudad Juarez the whole time between my appointments. It would also take less of a toll on my emotional well being.

My flight left very early on a Tuesday morning. It was still very dark when I had to leave, so the owners of the hostel were reluctant to drive me to the airport. They have a driver on staff, and my flight was before he even had to be at work. The alternative was hiring a taxi, which is not really the safest choice. Fortunately, the driver was willing to drive me to the airport on his own time.

The Juarez airport is pretty small, and my check-in was uneventful. Except for I accidentally left a bottle of lotion in my carry on. I was hoping that Mexican airport laws would be a little more lax than in America. They were not. So it went into the garbage.

I don't really remember much from that particular flight, but I counted how many total flights I took during my trip. I counted seven total flights. I think I flew more in the month of April than I have in my entire life. I don't ever really want to see the inside of an airport, or airplane, or hear one more flight safety speech any more. I get very restless during flights, and because I can't really afford first class at the moment, there was not a whole lot I could do except sit there and figure out which was of sitting was the least uncomfortable.

I usually enjoy the window seats for the view, and because it if the lesser of three evils. The problem with the isle seat is that you have to get up anytime anyone wants to leave their seat. Anytime the flight attendant comes down the aisle with the drink cart she has to reach over you to give the other people their drinks and snacks. That drink cart can also be very painful if it runs into your misplaced elbow.

The middle seat is a problem because you are sitting between two people. If those two people decide they want the arm rest you will spend the entire flight trying to make yourself as compact as possible. The issue are multiplied if you are sitting by complete strangers. I hardly ever get the middle seat.

The window seat is my favorite, but it is not without its drawbacks. I think we have all noticed most airplanes

 are cylindrical in shape. If you are in the window seat your foot that is on the window side will be very uncomfortable because the plane starts to curve, which doesn't let you rest your foot flat on the floor of the plane. I know these are first world problems, but I wondering of this bothers anyone else. 

Of course, the good part of the window seat is the view. I love looking out the window throughout the flight. I enjoy the takeoff, watching everything below me become smaller and smaller, and finally I enjoy the landing.One of my favorite flights was from Mexico City to Ciudad Juarez. The name of the airline was Interjet. They had a screen at the front of the plane that showed feeds from various cameras on the plane. During the flight the screen displayed different types of information such as fuel consumption and the flight location on a map.

During the trip I had the privilege of visiting several airports including, Mexico City, El Paso, Dallas-Fort Worth, and of course Portland. I have come to the scientific conclusion that the Portland Airport is one of the best in the country. I don't really know how this post turned into an airport/airplane seat review post, but I guess it is alright considering this is a travel blog. So let me share one of the worst airport experiences I have had.

For my flight to Ciudad Juarez to Mexico City I had to spend several hours at the airport. I had an early morning flight which I missed, but I was able to book a flight in the afternoon. Unfortunately, this meant I had to wait for a really long time. I couldn't even check my bags or go through security. The first this I discovered was that there was absolutely no place to rest comfortably. I found some stairs to sit at, but it was a high traffic area. Any time I wanted to go somewhere I had to take all my bags with me. They were not light, or easy to maneuver. After walking around for a few minutes I found a hallway that was away from everyone, and where I could stretch out and relax. I was sleep deprived, but I could not sleep for fear of my things being stolen.

Finally the time came to check my bags and go through security. I went through security without incident, and I made my way to the waiting area. My ticket didn't have the terminal printed on it so I didn't really know where to go. While I waited I sampled some of the local cuisine. I had Subway, It didn't taste too good.
 
I found a place to sit while I waited for my flight information to show up on the screen. That is where things went slightly crazy. I am always nervous before a flight right up until the point where I am sitting in the plane. I'm nervous about arriving on time, checking in, going through security, and finding my terminal. Once I am in my seat I can relax and enjoy the flight.

So the fact that I wasn't getting the flight information was not helping my nerves. I had to be in Juarez the next day for my waiver appointment. There was nothing I could do but wait. So I waited.

When the information finally came on the screen, I walked to the terminal which wasn't that far from where I was waiting, and I sat down to wait for my flight. I didn't wait very long before I boarded the plane, and we were off to Juarez. The flight was uneventful, but enjoyable. The plane had a screen that showed different views from cameras that were on the outside of the airplane. During take-off and landing you could see what it looked like from the nose and belly of the plane.

Once we got the the airport I got a taxi to take me back to the hostel. They were all surprised I was back so soon. There is usually at least two months between appointments, but I was able to get mine quicker than most.

My waiver appointment was the very next morning. I settled into my room, and got to bed, but not before taking some time to reflect on the memories I had made with my family. I wish I had more time with them, but I am also excited that I can visit anytime that my finances permit me to do so. I also can't wait to take my wife. I want her to see where I come from, and to meet my family.

Interview Appointment

I had my interview appointment on April 4th. I woke up early to get ready for the interview. I was really nervous and anxious, but I knew that God was in control. I had a granola bar, and a bottle of water for breakfast. I think that is all my stomach could handle at that point.

Waiting at the gate

   
My appointment was set for 9:15 am, and the driver picked me up at about 7:30. We drove to the consulate, and I got in line at the waiting area. Here they check your passport and other document to verify your identity and that you have an appointment. There were tv screens that had instructions, and told you what you what you could not bring into the consulate. I didn't have to wait there very long.

They had us line up and walk to the consulate, which is down the street from the waiting area. At the consulate we line up outside a metal fence. There was a guard there shouting out more instructions about what the security line would be like.

After getting my documents checked at the gate I went into a security room. There were several lines and metal detectors. I emptied my pockets and walked through without any incident. They gave me a number and I walked over to the waiting area to wait for my turn.

The waiting area is outdoors, but it has a roof over it. There were several screens around displaying people's numbers as they were being called up. The screen shows your number, as well as the window number you have to go to. I brought along a book, but I was too anxious to read. I also didn't want to miss seeing my number on the screen. There was not any logical order to the numbers, so it was hard to predict when your number would be called.

Example of a ticket

Waiting Area

     The first time my number was called I walked into the building and up to the window with my first packet. There was also a waiting are inside where there were already several hundred people waiting. I would guess that when I arrived there were over 200 people waiting their turn They asked me for my passport, and proof that I had the appointment. Then the official told me to sit back down, and watch for my number again. I sat once again and waited for my number. When it came on the screen again I made my way to the designated window, and I waited in line. At this window they were scanning fingerprints to verify identification. After I got done at this window, I sat back down to await the final step for the day: the interview.

This is a vital step in the process because the interviewer has the ability approve or deny your attempt at a waiver. The issues they are most concerned with are when you entered the country, family life, and any problems with law enforcement. I was nervous about the interview, and of course this was the longest wait of the day.

I was sitting near the windows so I could hear bits and pieces of other people's interviews. I do not recommend this because everybody's case is different. I saw one lady who had her visa application accepted on the spot. That made me feel better, and I was happy for her. Unfortunately, I also saw people that had sad looks on their faces when their cases were rejected.

Finally, my number was called. This was it. A truly life changing moment. I had thought about what I was going to say for days. I walked up to the window, and I was greeted by the lady who was going to be interviewing me. I had been trying to picture this moment in my head for so long. This interview could make or break my case. She had me read an oath then raise my right hand and swear that everything that I was saying was true.
  
My attorney had prepared me for the interview, but it was nothing like the real thing. The interviewer asked me a few simple biographical questions. She asked me how I met my wife. She asked about my in laws, my brothers, my parents, when I entered the U.S., when I returned to Mexico.

Then she asked my my wife's favorite food. I completely blanked for a second. Not because I didn't know it, but because I did not expect that type of question. I answered the question, and for some inexplicable reason, I felt relief. It was as if I was affirming to them that my marriage was not a sham to get a green card, and I felt more confident about my application being accepted.

After she asked me all the questions, she informed me that because I had entered the country illegally I was subject to a ten year ban, but that I was eligible to apply for a waiver. I was prepared for this, and I said thank you very much, and I left.I felt so much better at that point. I was half way there, and I knew that I was going to see my family very soon. My flight out to see them was the next morning.

Like so many things in this process, the interview felt like it was over before it started. I had built it up in my had over the past months, but once I got through it I felt much better. I could focus on the next aspect of my journey, which was visiting my family. I had not seen them in almost 20 years. That was really the highlight of my journey.

Pre-interview: Fingerprints and medical exam.

U.S. Consulate

Ever since I got back many people have asked me what the process is like. Well, where do I begin?

As you can see from the picture, the Consulate is an  ominous looking place. On the outside, it looks  more like a prison than a government office. Of course, the people inside are much like the friendly government employees we have come to know and love.

Like many of these places, the routine is the same; hurry up and wait. Once you enter this building you become a number. Nothing more, nothing less. They don't care who you are, where you are from, and what you want. You are in their territory. As soon as you leave the building, you no longer exist to them.

The first appointment was a fingerprint appointment I had that the first day that I was in Mexico. Ciudad Juarez is dirty, desert-like place, and the U.S. Consulate is like an oasis in the middle of a desolate wasteland. Juarez is an ugly city, but as you drive closer and closer to the consulate you start to notice nicer buildings and businesses.  In the blocks around it there are department stores, nice hotels, Starbucks, and other popular establishments.

Waiting room

The fingerprint appointment was not at the Consulate itself, but at the Applicant Service Center. It is down the street from the main building, and it is not actually part of the U.S. Consulate. At the fingerprint appointment, they take your picture and they scan your fingerprints. It is how they identify you when you go to the appointment. It is also a type of digital signature where you swear that you will the the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth at your interview.

Its a quick affair at the ASC. You present your passaport, proof of your appointment, and you are in the door. Then you sit, and wait. Then they call you over to a counter where you are searched. Then you wait. Then they call you to a cubicle, and the scan your hand and take your pictures. You have to read a placard on the wall that is a type of oath, and you are done. After this appointment I had a quick dinner at a little gordita stand. (I do miss the food.)

Smile!

Then it was back to the house for a nap. I could not stay awake any longer.

The next day our driver took us to our medical exam. He got a few of us into the car and we headed off to the clinic next to the consulate. The medical building was nice, clean, and the people were very professional. Maybe they were a little too professional. It was obvious that this place had become a business that was benefiting from the Consulate. You are required to pay the fee and any shots that you may need. They are not affiliated with the consulate, but they provide you with the results that you need at the interview.

Once again, the theme is wait, wait and wait some more. They have a waiting room. You give them proof of your appointment and your id. They give you a number and they send you to another waiting room. When they call you up to yet another window you give them your passport. They separate men and women and they make groups of about 10.

You are led into a room where they have you take off your shirt. You are called one by one into and x-ray room where they take a scan of your lungs. They do this very quickly and efficiently. Then you go into yet another waiting room. This is where I ran into somebody I knew from Oregon. It was a big relief to have a familiar face to share this experience with. When we found out the next step in the process we got slightly more nervous. We were going to get our blood drawn. 

I don't know if I have brought this up before, but I have a problem with needles, and the sight of blood, and the sight of other peoples' blood. The way they did it also made me uncomfortable. You are herded into a room with a group of strangers. They sit you in a chair that has a raised arm. The room wasn't very big at all, so you are sitting inches away from someone getting their blood taken.

On the outside, I was trying to appear calm and collected, but internally I was panicking. I did not want to have my blood taken, nor did I want to see other people's blood. These nurses were very efficient. It was like some kind of factory. when my name was called I raised my hand. A nurse walked over to me and she told me to hold my hand out, and to make a fist. I looked away, fearing the absolute worst. I felt a slight pinch, and it was over. She had her sample. She told me to get up. I didn't eat breakfast so I felt a little faint. I think she noticed because she asked me if I felt ok.

I got out of the chair, relieved that I had lived through the ordeal, but of course it was not over. We were led to yet another waiting area. In the next area they weighed us, took our blood pressure, and checked our hearing and vision. Then we went into individual rooms where we were examined by a doctor. The doctor went over me very quickly, and she asked me questions about drug usage and diseases and things like that. Before I went to Mexico I made sure I had most of my shots. That strategy paid off. The doctor told me that I did not need any shots, and that I could go.

I paid at the front desk, and I waited for the other guys that were with me. One of them had to get several shots, and another had to go through a "psychological exam." I think in a previous interview he had lied about using drugs, so they made him jump through a few extra hoops. They told us to return in a few hours for our results. When we got the results we were told that we could not open them before our appointment at the consulate.  Then we headed to the grocery store for some shopping.

You had to do your own cooking at the hostel, which we didn't really want to do so we bought plenty of cup-o-noodles, and simple things that would not require cooking or washing dishes. Then the waiting began. I went to the medical exam on a Wednesday, but my actual interview at the consulate was not until Monday morning.

The next few days included a lot of reading, pacing, talking to the other guys, eating, and watching tv. Once in a while my buddy and I braved the outside world and we would walk to the corner convenience store. Or we would sit on the front porch and count how many times the federales drove by. In the next post I will give a play-by-play account of the actual interview.

Not so triumphant return.

Bienvenidos a Mexico

Going into Mexico was an adventure. It included long flights, longer layovers, bad airport food, and a run-in with a Border Patrol officer.

I left Portland on April 28th. I flew from Portland to San Francisco. I had a layover that lasted several hours. From San Francisco I flew to Dallas-Fort Worth, then on to El Paso. El Paso and Ciudad Juarez are right across the border from each other.

My plan was to land in El Paso then have the people from the hostel I was staying at pick me up. My flight arrived in El Paso at around 10 in the morning. After I retrieved my luggage, I called the lady that was supposed to pick me up from the airport.. I got a hold of her and she told me where to wait for her, and how I would recognize her.

I should mention something that I found interesting here. Before I left just about everyone that knew that I was traveling to Juarez told me to try my best to blend in, and not look like a tourist. They told me that I had to dress like I wasn't from the U.S.

This is harder than it sounds because clothes that you buy in America is going to look American. Even if I had dressed differently people would still know I had been raised in America by the way I spoke. People told me that I shouldn't wear a nice watch or jewelry because that could make you a target for robbery. This is what I had in mind, but I was surprised when I saw the lady that was picking me up. She had on American clothes. She was also wearing expensive looking jewelry.   

We get into her car, which is a nice, decent vehicle, and we head towards Mexico. The border is about 10 minutes away from the airport, and once we get close she starts to tell me about how recently Border Patrol has been checking people that are going into Mexico. This could be a problem because I was in the country illegally. So she tells me to get out of the car and walk across the pedestrian bridge into Mexico. She assured me that I the Border Patrol officers wouldn't say anything to me.

Border Patrol Officer

I get out of the car and I start walking towards the border crossing. There are tons of cars and trucks going into Mexico. As I approach the crossing I see a few Homeland Security officers. They didn't seem to pay any attention to me so I kept walking. Then a Border Patrol officer comes over to where I was headed. He sees me walking towards the bridge, so he walks over to the sidewalk I was walking on, and stands there with his arms crossed in front of him. For someone of my legal status, this is the last person you want to see. Most police officers won't question your legal status unless you get arrested. These officers on the other hand, will ask you and they arrest you and deport you. So I definitely panicked a little.

I have never had a run in with them so I didn't know what to expect. The first thing that I noticed was his demeanor. He stood on the sidewalk like I was charging at him with a bat, and when he spoke to me it was obvious that he was trying to be intimidating. I was intimidated. Good job, Officer.  

He stopped me and asked me where I was going. I told him that I was going to Ciudad Juarez. Then he asked for identification. All I had on me was my Mexican passport. Right away he knew that I was in the country illegally. He then had me walk over away from the traffic, and he had me empty my pockets. He was asking me where I was from, and about my family. What made him suspicious was the fact that the lady had me get out of the car, so he asked me what was in the car. I told him that I could only account for the things that were in my suitcases.

He has me put all my things back in my pocket. Then we walk back to where the cars are being inspected. The agents ask me what car she was driving, and I point it out to them. They opened all her doors and walk around and inspect it with dogs and they go through my bags. He has me wait on the side, but before he leaves he looks at me and he says, "Don't you dare run. I will catch you, and arrest you." I'm paraphrasing, but he wanted me to understand that he had the power to arrest me and make my life difficult. (And I think he kind of called me fat by saying he would catch me if I tried to run. Which I had no intention of doing, by the way.)

After looking through her car they had me get back into the car. He mumbled, "Good luck," and we were on our way.I was a little shaky still, but I took a deep breath and we made our way to the hostel. As soon as we crossed the border I felt like I had entered a completely new world. I have said it so many times, but I cannot get the contrast out of my mind. There are people all over the streets selling all kinds of things.

They walk up to your cars and offer you gum, candy, fruit, and cigarettes. If they aren't selling something, they are cleaning your windshield or performing some kind of circus act. They even had young children out there in the middle of traffic. That is how so many people make their living. You have to find any way that you can to survive. I wish I could have taken more pictures of the city, but like I said before, I was trying to look as normal as possible, and taking a picture of every little thing is not normal.

When we go to the house she showed me my room. It was decent sized room with two beds and a chair. The room shared a bathroom with only one other room which I was thankful for. The five rooms in the house had to share one bathroom. I had my own door to go outside, which I liked. There were a few things that might be considered building code violations in the U.S. I'm not a building inspector, but I am sure that an uneven floor would not pass and inspection. I had a bottle of water on the floor next to my chair. If you laid a bottle on the floor it would roll to the other side of the room. I can say that it was very different from any other place that I ever stayed at.

I unpacked and made some phone calls. I tried to relax as much as I could after having that little adventure. I turned on the TV and went through all the channels. I was exhausted, but I could not go to sleep because I had an appointment that day. I began to reflect on what had just happened. I had so many things on my mind at that point. I was away from my home, my family, and everything that I knew. Everything was different. I knew the language, but for all intents and purposes I was a stranger in my own land. For a moment, I felt alone. I started to think about the run in with the officer. I had come close to losing everything.It was a frightening thought. But it didn't happen that way. I had a sudden sense of peace. It was as if God was saying to me, "Don't worry. I am with you." A weight was lifted off of me in that moment. I can't say that I was full of faith from that moment on, but when the doubt started to creep back in, I would remember God's faithfulness and that sense of peace would return.  

In Conclusion: Part 1

 I have been back in the U.S. for a few days now, and I have neglected my blog. The truth is I have so much to write about, and I really don't know where to begin. I thought that a good place would be to state the purpose of my journey. I should also mention that things here may be slightly political. Read these things with an open mind, and realize that these are not just my opinions, but these are things that happened to me firsthand.

I came to the U.S. when I was five years old. I entered the country illegally. My family was looking for what so many people in our situation seek; a better life. I am not condoning illegal immigration, but the reason thousands of people risk their lives doing it is because they truly believe that life is better in America. And the reality is that life is better here. 

Being illegal is not the ideal situation. As an illegal resident, you essentially live in the shadows of society. You never have the opportunities that others have. There are things that most people would not even think about, like going to college, owning a home or having a credit card.Many people ask, "Why not enter legally?" It is a valid question that does not really have a simple response. My answer would be,  "It is not that easy."

Applying for a work visa in Mexico is a long and expensive process. So already there is a barrier for people that don't have the resources to begin a legal process. It is much easier to get a tourist visa, but you are not allowed to work, and your time in the U.S. is limited.So the choice most people make is to enter illegally, and that is the decision my family made.

One of the only ways for someone to become a legal resident is by marriage or by a family relationship. I was able to apply for residency because my wife is a U.S. citizen. So last April we began the process. The process lasted almost exactly a year. It involved a lot of gathering documents, filing out forms, driving back and forth to our attorney's office, waiting, asking for letters, waiting some more, and money. Lots of money. I think we invested over ten thousand dollars. That includes attorney fees, application fees, a waiver fee, a medical exam/immunizations, and travel/lodging expenses.

This has consumed our lives for the past year. There is also an emotional toll that comes from not knowing what is going to happen. At any point in the process, someone could have looked at my file and denied our petition. That is where prayer and faith came in.

One of the worst aspects of this whole process is the fact that you have to travel to Ciudad Juarez for an interview and a waiver appointment. In case you did not know, Mexico is in the midst of a major drug war. There is fighting between the government and the drug cartels, and even amongst the drug cartels themselves. Most of this drug battle is concentrated along the Mexico-U.S. border, and Juarez has become one of more dangerous areas. Innocent people are killed there regularly. This made the thought of having to go there slightly more unsettling. There are also reports of kidnappings for ransom, and violent acts against women.

I do have to say that while there is truth to these reports, there is also some slight media exaggeration. Juarez is a large city, and the violence tends to be concentrated in certain areas. During the day, people go about their daily lives. They work, go to school, and run errands. After dark it is a different story. The city sort of shuts down, and for a good reason. It is a place where you have to be careful who you talk to, and who you trust. I had a flight that left early in the morning, and the people that drove me were hesitant to drive me to the airport because it was still early.

This was all very different to the environment I am used to here in Oregon.So this was a long-winded explanation for the purpose of my journey. Like I said before, read all of this with an open mind. I am not a political person. I don't consider myself to be Democrat or Republican. I am not embarrassed by the fact that I was illegal. If anything, I am a little proud because I believe it helped to shape my character. When you are born in the U.S. so many things are  handed to you. As an American citizen you have many rights and opportunities. I am grateful that I can now live here legally, and pursue my goals.

In my next post I will write about my not so triumphant re-entry into Mexico.

Everything is in Spanish

I finally have reliable, fast internet, and so much to write about, and I'm not really sure where to begin.
I expected Mexico to be different. I asked people about it, I looked at pictures, but nothing prepared me for the real thing.

I can't really figure out how to explain it. I have been in Mexico for a week now. In two different places, and those two places are very different from each other. As I write this, I am in Hidalgo my birthplace. It has been really great seeing my family for the first time in so many years. I left when I was very young, so my memories are very vague. But as I walked through my childhood home, things began to come back. It was a very special time.

We also spent some time looking at pictures of my childhood, which was also fun. I am really enjoying my time with family more than in Ciudad Juarez. While i was in Juarez I didn't really go out much, and i didn't talk to too many people. I do have to share that I happened to run into someone i knew from Corvallis. I had only met him once before, but it was the most random thing running into him. I think this helped both of us feel a little more comfortable.

We both noticed the differences in life and culture. For example, driving in Mexico is a completely different experience than in the U.S. People here are in a hurry to get wherever they are going, and they tend to be a little more aggressive. Turn signals seem to be optional most of the time. It has really been an adventure. i think it is all part of the experience.

Ciudad Juarez is not really a nice place. It has a reputation of being a dangerous place, and there was definitely an oppressive feeling in the city.Hidalgo has been a completely different experience all together. The people here are so friendly and nice. Part of my family lives near Tulancingo, which is a big city, and my grandparents live out in the country.

I am looking forward to spending time with them and getting to know them again. They have all been nice and welcoming. I have been able to feel more at ease. I know that even though i don't talk to them very much, i could go to any of their houses at any time, and be well received and treated. That is a good feeling to have.