no longer an illegal.

on morning i began the final phase of my long journey to dominican citizenship.

it's been a road, let me tell you, of ups and downs and waiting. lots of waiting. and frustration and happiness and hope.

 

i've dragged (drug?) my feet on this final step (no pun intended) for many reasons. mostly, i was scared that, because this process had been so (relatively) cheap so far, it was going to cost me an arm and a leg. there are always hidden fees. or a bribe. or some ridiculous trick at the end.

 

when i was informed that all government service fees would be increased beginning on february first, i jumped in the car and flew to the junta. because if it was an arm and a leg before, it would cost my first born child after friday. of course, in true dominican fashion, the one employee capable of doing my process doesn't work on mondays. could i please return on tuesday at two?

 

tuesdays in the pm don't work for me. but i'll be by on wednesday morning, k?

 

Wednesday rolls around, and, yes!, man-child is available. even better? he's got my paper already finished. except it's got a mistake and now we need to wait for his boss to authorize the change. no sweat, he and his cubicle mate were super nice and i got the low down on all the crazies that visit: mothers who are "looking for" their kids' birth certificates but don't know when they were born; a man wanting to know if his wife divorced him without his knowledge; the grandmother who came in to declare her 12 year old grandchild because the mother just never bothered to do it.

 

once the boss-man signed off on the letter change, i was sent to the printer to collect my new birth certificate and then i was sent outside to wait in a line. when i got to the counter, i was told i was missing our original marriage certificate. please wait in that line over there. nine people later i was given a fake certificate and sent to another line where i'd get the real thing and pay (more money).

 

i then re-waited the original line, was given permission to proceed and sent to the final step: cedulacion. i waited awhile, then was sent to the data entry point where a very nice lady took my information even though it was already on her screen and written on a piece of paper on her desk, but, whatever. i then fingerprinted and electronically signed. she sent me to the printer to pick up my own piece of paper, gave me a pen to sign and sent me to her boss.

 

who then proceeded to argue that this poor lady did the wrong process. that i wasn't possibly a new dominican citizen, and how dare she have entered all of that information without permission. and, no! you cannot vote in our country, that is reserved for people who pay taxes! how dare you, american girl!, assume that you get a real id card.

 

she was obviously having a bad day. so i headed back to my new friend at the front of the building who so graciously told me stories just a few hours before. crossing my fingers for grace, he was free! and he marched himself back to crazy-boss-lady to explain, after telling his mommy that he loves her and blowing her kisses no lie, that i was in fact a new citizen. and no, my parents aren't dominican. and yes, sometimes it's not a horrible thing to live here.

 

and just when i thought we were finished, she printed out this gem complete with seventeen last names and told me i'd be ready to go.... in a month. the government doesn't have any plastic to actually print the id cards, so i'll head back on february 28 and finally, finally be eligible for direct deposit (most important!) and medical insurance.

 

i am planning to write a blog post summarizing the whole process, so if you're interested, stay tuned!

becoming legal.

 i posted a few times on how i've been living illegally in the dominican republic for the past seven years. by illegally, i mean that i have made full and conscious decisions to live and stay in this country and have done nothing to legalize myself. recently, laws have changed that are forcing me to finally bite the bullet. i had three options - a work visa (which seemed complicated and, since it only lasts for one year, not really the best option for us), a residency permit (expensive and not permanent, i'd be in some sort of residential paperwork for at least ten years), or dual-citizenship.

luckily, i know somebody and that has made the process (which is already super-easy) even easier. i travelled to santo domingo to turn in my paperwork (basically -a lot of copies or birth certificates and passports) two weeks ago. last wednesday i returned to have my "interview"

i arrived on the bus - whose station is conveniently across the street from the police station i had to visit. i thought it was that police building at the top - but it's not. (during my first visit, i had a lovely argument with the guard in that building regarding my friends' clothing - inappropriate- was taken to the wrong place - obviously, i was in the WRONG building - and then ushered out the door and across the street) to this lovely gem of an institutional building.

 i had no idea where i was supposed to go in this monstrosity of mid-20th century architecture, so, eventhough i had already decided i wasn't going to abuse my connection, i had to stop by to find out where to go.

 i was given an escort (who told me i could post his face when i am sworn in) who took me to the 13th floor. we waited around for awhile. the lobby got a little crowded with others looking for a dominican passport. my guy helped do my fingerprints and fill out yet another form. seriously, forms in quadruplicate and hand-written. i was first in for my interview. nervous i wasn't, who could fail a test that asks things like "what currency is used in the dominican republic?" and "in what month do we celebrate carnaval?"

well.


who are the founding fathers? of course, juan pablo duarte, sanchez y mella. who doesn't know that?

what are their first names? please answer formally.
oops.

because i didn't know their first names. even when she prompted me. luckily she had written down JP Duarte and offered up a rebound question with the same answer. score.

the other questions were easy, though i'd argue that technically there are a ton of trick questions on the test. if you want me to memorize from a book, let me know - but what kind of citizen does that make? first president? sanchez, technically, but the answer you're looking for is pedro santana, the first constitutional president. and when was the constitution written? last year. no lie, they change the thing like they change their underwear, but the answer to use is 1844 or something. and it's the magna carta.

after a delightful conversation with interviewer (and obnoxiously holding up the process for the rest of the waiters), i was told i had passed. my documents will now go on to the DNE (USA), the DNCD (DR) and INTERPOL to make sure i don't have a seedy background or, according to a friend on facebook, pirate dvds (because that's what interpol looks for).

i headed back to the bus, complete with new friend-escort. the whole day (with 6 hours of travel) only took a eight hours. it wasn't delightful, but it's nice to know i'm on my way to getting legal and that i'm almost done.

my fingertips were tinted that blue color for three days. it's the same ink they use to prevent fraud at election time (once you vote, they paint your finger) and i think it must be super-permanent.

we're not worried about the north americans.

my immigration situation is not unique. at least not in this country.

i moved to the dominican republic in 2004, and have been living here, paper-free, since then. i attempted once to complete the process for a formal residency, but when my papers were lost (please pay more) or expired (please pay more) or just plain not going where the needed to go (please pay more), i gave up. it was (and still is) an expensive process that wasn't necessary.

i had employment, health insurance and nobody ever bothered me. i paid an overstay fee each time i left the country. life was nice.

but not at all fair.

because at the same time that i held a job, without paying taxes, and gave birth in a government sponsored hospital and lived my life, other immigrants were being corralled into schoolbuses and driven back to the border. in the united states it was happening as well. dominicans, haitians, mexicans, guatemalans, illegally residing in my country were put on planes and shipped home.

not fair.

but, complacent as i am, i continued to stay residency free. and i often condemned immigrants for traveling without their papers. such hypocrisy.

after amely was born in 2009, my government health insurance was revoked because i didn't have a cedula number - similar to a social security number in the states. that's fair, i thought, and instead of doing my paperwork, i just wished away sickness. luckily, i haven't been ill and i still have a job to pay for the doctors, right?

last semester, the north american teachers were sat down and informed that because of a new law, we needed to complete the residency process (or whatever) in order to continue working  at the university. it was poorly announced and not well researched, but the idea was scary. the laws were changing and we needed to act fast.

so, earlier this week i wrote about my trip to the capital to get it done. i'm becoming a dual citizen. excellent. yesterday i had my interview. it went swimmingly (except the basic question of the founding fathers that i just couldn't answer!) and when the questioning ended, i asked.

what will happen in the meantime? what happens if someone asks for my papers? this new law has me a little shaken up - i don't know what to do.

and then, everything was put into the light. this new law is not applicable to my life, she says, because i am north american. and really what the country wants to do is alleviate the haitian problem.

the problem.

of which, i am apparently not part. i think it's the same everywhere. we're not concerned about people emmigrating unless they are a threat. those who are different, those who we consider less than. less than us, less than they should be.

we make laws to keep Others out, people who we don't care for or don't respect. it made me mad that she said that. these laws don't apply to you because you're american. a gringa. we don't worry about you. we worry about those other Others who are poorer, who will ruin us.

i see the buses filled with illegal haitians in the city all the time. but i also see the barrios filled with deported dominican-americans and wonder if we couldn't just find a way for this to work, that nobody would be ruined in the end, that we wouldn't need to consider anybody an Other, because in all reality we all are Others. 

i'm an illegal immigrant

last week, amely and i packed out day bags and headed to santo domingo to see a friend from college who was honeymooning in punta cana. (man it was a long trip, but so worth it to catch up!) i have been hemming and hawing about my legal status, not really sure what i was going to do about my illegal immigrant status. we finally decided to do the dual citizenship when my employer forced my hand (get something, anything, or you're out of a job). with all the paperwork together, i figured i'd double dip and hit the police department to drop off the papers.

here's where things kind of tilt. i didn't want to do my paperwork because it's such an ordeal. there are lines, and a lot of people who don't know what's going on. wait for hours in line a just to be told to go to line b and line b tells you it's back to line a. i can't handle it. amalio went once to get the information we needed to complete the process, and in the same building they gave him four different papers, all with different requirements for the same thing.

so, i had asked for help. i put out the word of what i was doing and, please, for the love of god, does anyone know who can help me? not a lawyer (because they're the worst), but someone who maybe works in the right office, or even in the right building?

i hit the jackpot and was connected to someone in the right building. it's always a crapshoot because even though people say they can help, it's not always true. let me tell you, this guy came through.

arriving at the correct building (after arguing in the wrong building about my friends' inappropriate clothing), we were met by an assistant, taken to an office, given fresh-squeezed juice. i handed over my packet of papers and the fee (not a bribe) and while some guard ran my errands, i relaxed and caught up with my friend and her new husband.

i don't really know how long the process really takes, but i will take my citizenship test on wednesday (6 days after depositing my paperwork!) and will be sworn in when the depositions from the proper international agencies come in and declare me felony free.

me and kate at the ozama fort

i've talked to others who have waited months and months for things to "fall into place." because if yo don't know someone, things here don't work. i've got some studying to do - i still don't know who the first president of the republic was (trick question!) or any of the 87 different independences, but i see the light at the end of the tunnel... i will no longer be the illegal and i'll still have a job.