Immigration4

Remembering that I had seen hawkers outside the building, promoting their photo establishments, I left Mike keeping our place, (praying that my name wasn't called while I was away) and raced outside. A hawker gave the directions to one of the many small stores set up with a camera and I soon had my pic taken. Not caring what it looked like, I paid the fee and soon was back inside with the photo attached to my papers. Now I had everything that I needed, only thanks to another applicant.
   Hunger was now attacking us and Mike went to the cafeteria, returning with coffee. Along with everyone else, we ignored the signs that ban eating and drinking in the room. This is not something I would normally do, but starvation meant I was willing to make an exception here!
   Hearing my name being called, I went to the counter, stupidly thinking that we would be able to leave after seeing whoever it was doing the calling. Wrong again! A check of why I wanted to leave the country, for how long, confirmation of my name and address and I was told to sit and wait again. Watching others coming and going, there seemed to be no pattern in just when one could expect to be called on. Our Irish companion was called, and he and his family were free to leave, waving the much sought after papers on the way out.
   Now it was after 5pm, the room was slowly emptying. Finally, my name was called again. I was being granted my Parole! Wearily, Mike and I walked out of the building and towards the train station. Dozing on the train on the way home, me with my hand on the package of papers in my bag. I could lose everything bar those papers.
   The short walk from the train to the truck seemed three times as long, we were both drained. Mike gave me the keys, asking me to start it while he told his brother that we were back and heading off home. I did as asked, started the truck, got out, closing the door as I went to the passengers side. Oh, the door was locked??? This is when I learnt that closing a door, after starting the engine, automatically locks the door. So, there was both Mike and I, standing outside in the cold, tired, hungry, looking at a tightly locked truck, with engine going!
   The frustration of the day caught up with us. Mike venting a little anger, me wanting to cry. Mike's brother came to the rescue, driving us home for the spare set of keys. What a day, but, I did have my papers!!!
   As planned, Mike and I flew out on the 20th December. After a wonderful holiday where Mike was welcomed into my family, we returned to the US on the 10th January. This time, because I was traveling with Mike, I was permitted to go through the less lengthy queue for American citizens and residents. Our turn came and we marched up to the counter where Mike's passport was stamped. My passport was handed over and the officer flicked through it and then, the questioning began. Confidently producing my Parole papers, I passed them over, optimistically expecting them to be stamped and us sent on our way. Wrong!!!

To my dismay, I was sent across to the immigration office where I was to sit and wait until called upon. Mike was permitted to accompany me and together, we sat and waited.....and waited, concern mounting that we would miss our connecting flight to Newark. (We didn't).
Overhearing an exchange between an Asian passenger and the immigration officer had me thankful that I did have official papers, which would, or should, (optimism was fading a little as my re-entry had not gone as I had expected), allow me to stay. My name was called and approaching the counter my stomach dropped. Sitting there was the twin sister of the woman in the city office!! The same cold glare..the same haughty tone of voice.....even the extremely long fingernails, curling under, were the same! At least I knew she couldn't send me away, telling me to come back the next day. Going over the papers, drilling me in a mini inquisition, she eventually stamped them and said I was free to go. Whew!!!
February the 28th came and went with no sign of the work permit as promised. Reluctant to give Immigration any cause for complaint, or was it because I knew that enquiring wouldn't be productive, I decided to be patient a little longer, little did I know just how much longer it would take. A call to the lawyer, (the same lawyer who had told us, in our initial meeting, that I could demand my Employment Authorisation if it was not proccessed on time), revealed that Immigration would not engage in any communcation with me until I had a copy of the canceled cheque. As yet, that had not been sent to the lawyer's office.