More Red Tape
About a week and a half ago, I drove my husband to the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service) to see what we would have to do to straighten out his paperwork problems and get his citizenship. Having spend hours reading immigration law until I was red-eyed and exhausted, I felt well equipped to help my husband deal with the immigration officer. Or so I thought.
Visiting the INS these days is not like it once was. In the past, you dropped in during business hours, took a number and waited forever until it was your turn to be turned down. You can still do this if you want, but the more efficient way to do it these days is to get online and make an appointment. We made an appointment.
When we arrived at INS, the parking lot was empty. I was beginning to wonder if were there on the right day. The "Open" sign was on the door so we risked it. Warning signs with the red circle and red line down the middle were posted on the windows and door: No smoking, no guns, no cell phones, no electronic devices, no dogs, no knives, no wives (just kidding). We emptied our pockets of forbidden belongings and walked in. We were greeted by a guard in full uniform. He was standing behind a desk which had a sign up sheet and an electronic scanner. A rubber mat was on the floor next to the desk. I scanned the small room. The walls were painted in a dull government grey. To the right were two doors, the men's and the ladies restrooms. Three rows of chairs were lined up in the center of the room. To the left were two bank teller type windows. There was another door on the back wall that must have led to some offices. "Where do you sit down for your appointment?" I wondered.
My husband signed in. "Empty your pockets" the guard ordered to my husband. He emptied his pockets while I signed in. "If you don't want to get arrested," he said to my husband, "You better get rid of that pocket knife." My husband handed me his keys and Swiss army knife which I took the car. When I re-entered, the guard was using an electronic scanner to scan my husband. I was next. I tossed my keys on the table; I was glad I had not brought my purse into the building. "Over here on the mat" the guard ordered. I stood there as he used his electronic scanner on me. "Lift your feet." He scanned the bottom of my flat sandals. "What's he going to find in those things?"
Before the guard was finished scanning my shoes, my husband was called over to a window. I joined him. As if she had heard our story a million times, she walked over to a pile of forms on the shelf behind her. "In any case," she said as she handed my husband two lengthy forms, "You are going to have to go apply for a Canadian birth certificate and get a Canadian passport. When you have those, you need to either start the process for obtaining a new green card, or apply for citizenship. When you have a receipt proving you have done that. Bring the birth certificate, the passport and the receipt to us, and we will issue you a temporary green card. Then you can take that to the DMV to renew your driver's license."
"So you've heard this story before?" I asked. "Well, not exactly like this. I will admit you have an unusual case, but we have a lot of this kind of problem."
My husband took the papers and handed them to me. We were both dumbfounded. We thanked the woman, signed out and left. "Well that was an experience," I said to my husband as we drove away. "I wonder how we are going to pay for all this?" Secretly, I wondered how we were going to complete all that paperwork before my husband's driver's license expired.
As my husband and I sat across from each other eating about 30 minutes later, I said, "I have been asking you to get your citizenship, your mother has been telling you to get your citizenship, and now God and the government are telling you to get your citizenship." We only hope and pray the process goes smoothly.
Visiting the INS these days is not like it once was. In the past, you dropped in during business hours, took a number and waited forever until it was your turn to be turned down. You can still do this if you want, but the more efficient way to do it these days is to get online and make an appointment. We made an appointment.
When we arrived at INS, the parking lot was empty. I was beginning to wonder if were there on the right day. The "Open" sign was on the door so we risked it. Warning signs with the red circle and red line down the middle were posted on the windows and door: No smoking, no guns, no cell phones, no electronic devices, no dogs, no knives, no wives (just kidding). We emptied our pockets of forbidden belongings and walked in. We were greeted by a guard in full uniform. He was standing behind a desk which had a sign up sheet and an electronic scanner. A rubber mat was on the floor next to the desk. I scanned the small room. The walls were painted in a dull government grey. To the right were two doors, the men's and the ladies restrooms. Three rows of chairs were lined up in the center of the room. To the left were two bank teller type windows. There was another door on the back wall that must have led to some offices. "Where do you sit down for your appointment?" I wondered.
My husband signed in. "Empty your pockets" the guard ordered to my husband. He emptied his pockets while I signed in. "If you don't want to get arrested," he said to my husband, "You better get rid of that pocket knife." My husband handed me his keys and Swiss army knife which I took the car. When I re-entered, the guard was using an electronic scanner to scan my husband. I was next. I tossed my keys on the table; I was glad I had not brought my purse into the building. "Over here on the mat" the guard ordered. I stood there as he used his electronic scanner on me. "Lift your feet." He scanned the bottom of my flat sandals. "What's he going to find in those things?"
Before the guard was finished scanning my shoes, my husband was called over to a window. I joined him. As if she had heard our story a million times, she walked over to a pile of forms on the shelf behind her. "In any case," she said as she handed my husband two lengthy forms, "You are going to have to go apply for a Canadian birth certificate and get a Canadian passport. When you have those, you need to either start the process for obtaining a new green card, or apply for citizenship. When you have a receipt proving you have done that. Bring the birth certificate, the passport and the receipt to us, and we will issue you a temporary green card. Then you can take that to the DMV to renew your driver's license."
"So you've heard this story before?" I asked. "Well, not exactly like this. I will admit you have an unusual case, but we have a lot of this kind of problem."
My husband took the papers and handed them to me. We were both dumbfounded. We thanked the woman, signed out and left. "Well that was an experience," I said to my husband as we drove away. "I wonder how we are going to pay for all this?" Secretly, I wondered how we were going to complete all that paperwork before my husband's driver's license expired.
As my husband and I sat across from each other eating about 30 minutes later, I said, "I have been asking you to get your citizenship, your mother has been telling you to get your citizenship, and now God and the government are telling you to get your citizenship." We only hope and pray the process goes smoothly.
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