The guy who called me was very unfriendly, but let's be honest, it was the face of who really is a miserable, it was the good guy in uniform by necessity or chance which complexes are many who believe that if makes the gesture of a grumpy gendarme constipated and not be respected. Well, not without reason in this society, ours, which have white skin and six feet deep voice immediately makes you "doctor" or "engineer", whereas five feet tall, sallow skin and Andean small voice of lament, is likely to be told " Hey you "," boy "or anything else that you reduce to pawn or concierge. We
the mysterious door close on the opposite side to the "waiting room", as euphemistically called the cell without bars where we had "retained." After the threshold I met a bureaucracy, gray, off, where are there are so willing to work like us to stay at the checkpoint forced. There were a few desks, papers everywhere, the odd computer, printer scandalous, cell types and in uniform, faced heads, officers, if those taking decisions there.
I approach one of the desks, the subject is sitting there does not make the slightest gesture, and I remain standing while the guard who accompanied me leaves me and goes who knows where and the officer continues fingering roles including I can see my passport. Absorbed in his research, totally ignoring me for several minutes for me, put in your hands at that moment, is eternal. The subject is rereading papers as if it were something really important, open and close my passport, checked my visa, all one by one, like someone suspicious, like someone trying to find in the middle of stamps, dates and signatures, the error demonstrate that I am an illegal immigrant who wants to use his country as a springboard into the American dream. Futile task of uniformed poor, would have sufficed to ascertain to what flight had arrived and understand that it would be difficult to come to Florida to land in the Federal District, take a bus and go, by force to destroy my battered back, almost two thousand kilometers from the capital of the northeast and there hire a coyote that a few thousand dollars swindled me telling me that it will cross the border and leave me for fat, and slow, tired, in the middle of the Sonoran desert to die dehydrated.
The truth is that the minutes seem endless but I resist, stoic, stand without giving in to fatigue in my legs and fatigue of my hard-working poor knees makes walking so much in making my humankind. I stand, waiting for the resolution of the subject in front of me, sheltered by the metal desk, his badge, his uniform and walked around several guards watching. As it is not hard to imagine, my mood was, by now slightly vinegary. Tired, exhausted and, especially, hungry, they were not neurons but gastric juices, which began to hold the reins of my character. By this afternoon I cursed my foolish decision to start my umpteenth diet just for the trip. "A little juices and two toast," I said this morning, "get to Mexico City shortly after two and before three I'll be having lunch, in addition, it is good to go with a full stomach to match, and of course and was past five and was still there looking at the nape of the uniformed determined to not know what my research papers. Impatient now, I interrupted:
"Excuse me, officer ...
(silence)
-Official ... (silence)
- Lord!
(the keeper slowly rising as the eyebrows in disbelief that I had dared to raise the tone)
-Official Is something wrong?, I have more than three hours here and my papers are in order.
"Well, that's what I decide ...
" Certainly, just ask him to take into account the time that has elapsed ... "Here
all serve well, do you have a complaint?
"Beyond the lost hours, the discomfort, the problem that means ...
" Do not follow, not follow, I'm finished with you ...
(silence, now mine)
"I'll do you a favor ...
(silence)
" Because there is an irregularity ...
- A blip?
"Well, you have two visas and that's against the law of the land, if I let go with both visas would be committing a crime and could even lose both visa and be deported ...
(silence)
- ... so I have to cancel the tourist.
"Well, is your country, are your laws, you decide.
"Yes, I decide, but I wanted to understand ...
-Gazette, what I understand or not is irrelevant.
"Well, true.
"Proceed, because my bags are thrown do three hours somewhere in the airport and did not know who will be responsible for losses ...
" In the airport your luggage is very safe, do not hesitate ...
(silence) "We're
professional ... (silence)
-proceed to cancel the visa of tourist ...
(silence) And you can
out ... Then I saw how my precious tourist visa for five years and multiple entries was crossed by the vulgar red ink a pen that the subject had in his hands, or a seal, or an explanation nor anything, only two crossed lines crossed over the visa, as if he had a six bored in a holiday afternoon.
I said nothing, kept an angry silence and let me drive through the aisles to the door where, abandoned, carelessly, placed side by side a corner, I found my bags.
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