Going home

The return trip was an adventure in itself. It included getting my visa stamped, a long wait at the border, and more airports and airplanes. In a matter of hours I went from the country of my birth, to the country that I know as my home. I started out in the one of the deadliest cities in the world, and I ended up in peaceful Corvallis, Oregon.

I went to the Zaragosa border crossing early Tuesday morning to get my visa stamped. The driver dropped me off on the Mexico side of the crossing and I walked to the American side where I had to turn in my documents. We went early in the morning to avoid having to wait in line, as the border crossing gets very busy. Even at that early hour there were a lot of people crossing into El Paso. I learned that many people work in the States, but they live in Mexico. Certain living expenses are cheaper in Mexico, so it makes financial sense. Depending on where you work you may have to leave your house several hours early to get to work on time.

There are several lanes of traffic as well as a pedestrian bridge. I was on the pedestrian walkway, and I walked across to the United  States. Something that I found slightly amusing was that in order to get on the bridge from the Mexico side you had to pay 60 cents. I thought that was kind of interesting.

Boundary Marker

Right in the middle of the bridge there is a plaque marking the boundary between the U.S. and Mexico. I really expected something more exciting to mark the border, but this was all I got. I was also expecting some kind of fanfare as I walked across, but, once again, I got nothing. The truth is you can walk right across the border without having a visa. The only issue with that is that the bridge leads you right to the Homeland Security outpost where they might ask to see some documents.

I got to the crossing, and I walked into a room with a waiting area and a few windows where immigration officers were working. There was a separate line for people that had already been admitted, and who regularly crossed to border to work or shop in the U.S. That line was long, but the area I was supposed to be in was pretty empty. I sat down, and waited for an official to call me up to the window. When it was my turn I walked up, and handed him my packet. He walked to the back for a few minutes.

At this point, I know that I am in the clear, and that I am going home. For some reason, I felt a bit nervous for just one second. Like he was going to come back and tell me that there was a problem, and that I would have to stay in Mexico longer. Or that they had changed their minds entirely, and that I was not welcome in the U.S. Obviously, this didn't happen, but it did not stop my imagination from running wild for just one second. 

The officer came back to the window, I signed something, and he fingerprinted me. Then he stamped my visa, and he welcomed me to the United States. He told me that I could leave and re-enter the country at any time. That felt good. It felt like an important moment, and I felt thankful. 

Cameras and security devices everywhere

Thousand of people cross everyday

I walked back to the Mexico side where the driver was waiting for me, and he took me back to the hostel. I gathered all my things, and I waited for a different driver to take me to the El Paso Airport. This was no easy task. Even though El Paso and Ciudad Juarez are right next to each other, it took us almost two hours to get from the house to the airport. Without traffic, this would should have taken about twenty minutes. On our way out of Mexico we were also stopped and briefly questioned by the Mexican Federal Police, or los Federales. That was kind of exciting. Then joined the mass of vehicles trying to get into the U.S., and we waited. Snail's pace is a fitting term to describe how we moved towards the border. The good news was if we ever got hungry, or just wanted to waste money, there were hundred of street vendors walking up and down, between cars, selling their wares. 

Even after we got past the official border, they were everywhere. Legal or not they walk right past the boundary. They don't go past the checkpoint, but they do cross the line. The driver told me that every once in a while a few border patrol agents with walk up towards Mexico, and they will herd these vendors back into Mexico. These are the things you learn while waiting at a border crossing.

When you go through the border, your car is monitored by massive, high-tech cameras. The driver was telling me that the cameras had extremely high resolution, and they had used the images to apprehend a fugitive several months before. We slowly made our way to the booth where a border patrol agent took our identification, and scanned it. He gave it back to us, and after asking us why we were coming into the country, he welcomed us to the United States. I was getting closer and closer to being home. I was back in America, but this time I came in through the front door(not my expression).

Once again, I was struck by the immediate contrast between these two countries that are right next to each other. It is a completely different feeling that I have had a hard time describing. I pointed this contrast out to the driver, and he dismissed it. He said, "No matter where we are, we are all the same. We work, we eat, we sleep." I couldn't help but think that this was a very simplistic observation. He is half right, but you have to admit that there is a definite contrast between the two places. One is better than the other, and I am not saying that it is a reflection of the people because it isn't. It is two countries that went in entirely different directions, and one has done better than the other. That is not to say that this country does not have serious problems of its own, but that is for a different blog.

It is interesting how certain small things can have such a comforting effect on a person. The simple fact that everything was in English made me feel at home again. I knew that i could drink the water without fear of getting some horrible sickness. My cell phone was not roaming anymore. It is the little things that matter.

He dropped me off at the airport, and I began the process of trying to find a flight to Portland. I was seriously fed up with airports at this point. I walked up to one airline counter, and it was if I didn't exist for a couple of minutes. When I tried to say something the "person" cut me off, and told me to wait my turn. There wasn't anyone else in line. After striking out here, and at several other airlines, I found a flight that was leaving within an hour. Unfortunately, it would come at a steep price. Oh well. I wanted to go home.

I paid for my ticket and went through the slowest security line in the world. Of course, whenever I am not in a hurry these line are quick and efficient. Today, I was in a hurry, and they were taking their sweet time. I always get the impression that they use some acting when they look at your boarding pass so intently. Because all they are looking at is to make sure the names matches with your id, but a higher power told them to look at it as if they were trying to read hieroglyphics. I didn't care. I was going home. 

Before I made it to my terminal  I made sure I was going to the right place. I read a story about a guy that flew to Portland, Oregon when he actually needed to be in Portland, Maine. I wanted to avoid that mistake. I flew from El Paso to Dallas-Fort Worth, then finally on to Portland. Portland, Oregon.

My wife met me at the the airport. When I saw her I knew I was home. I was having a hard time believing I was back in the States. It felt unreal for the first few days. The familiar places felt unfamiliar for a while, but after about a week I felt like I had never been gone. Of course, there is no way I will ever forget my journey. I think about it often, and I miss my family. My journey is not over. If anything, it is just beginning. I still have friends and family in this horrible situation, and it has become my goal to help them and others. I have seen the need for people that are willing to stand up for the cause, not only in words, but in actions. Which is why I want to go to law school and become an immigration attorney.

 I will keep you up to date with that development, as well as giving my opinion on immigration matters as they come up. Immigration has been in the news a lot recently, and I know you are all dying to know what I think about them. Thank you for reading, and feel free to comment.

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.