CISOMB gracefully backs out

The title of this post says it all doesn’t it?


To: Deza

I heard back from Senator Franken’s Office. They informed me that they have been in touch with the California Service Center (CSC), and the CSC is currently working on locating your husband’s file to address it. As I mentioned in our phone call, when two government offices duplicate a request to CSC it may only cause delays rather than expedite a resolution. Since Senator Franken’s office has already initiated a request to CSC on your behalf, our office will close your inquiry. However, if you find that at some point in the future you need our help, we will be happy to reopen your inquiry and see how we can assist you.

I wish you the best of luck as you work to resolve your husband’s case. Many thanks,
Lara

And then the phone rang...

I very rarely get phone calls, which probably has something to do with my hatred of talking on the phone, so whenever my phone rings I typically let it go to voicemail. This also serves the purpose of allowing me to screen my calls so I can avoid whichever collection agency is trying to contact me. Fools – you can’t collect from someone that doesn’t have any money. The only problem with this practice is my cell phone does not like dialing numbers or allowing me to access my call log; it routinely freezes or force-closes whenever I wish to call someone that is not in my contacts. I’m sure you can imagine the sense of panic I feel when the voicemail of a screened call is so important that I need to call the individual back immediately. Today was one of those times.

My phone rang and I almost answered it. It was a Washington D.C. area code, a fact I was aware of due to my previous experience with the CISOMB office. After a few moments of debate, I decided that letting it go to voicemail is the best course of action. If it was the government, I would be forewarned and if it was some other entity I probably didn’t want to talk to them anyway.

Feather in the Wind

Today is June 18th, or exactly one month until the one year anniversary of our waiver denial, which is also known as the worst day of my life.  It's times like this when I wonder if there are really 'signs everywhere', and I'm just too deep into survival mode to see them.  Nothing has happened for weeks in regards to anything.  Alberto has been making noises about beginning the process of moving to Mexico to be a family again, and I've been thinking about it.  I get angry when people on the outside of the situation insist it would be a grand adventure to live abroad, because they are stuck looking at an international move as a 'perpetual vacation' instead of a logistics nightmare.  There is so much to think about and do before I can pack a single box and my head is swimming with questions like:         Will Alberto's business be enough to support the family?  Will I need a visa and how much will it cost?  Will Ashley need some special paperwork to go to school?  What the hell will I do with myself all day if I'm not working and am too afraid to leave the house on my own?  What will happen if Ashley gets sick?  Will I have access to mental health care?  What about when I get pregnant?  Will I have to resign to suffer from stomach ailments and diarrhea for the rest of my natural life because I can't handle all the grease and oil the food is cooked in?!?!

Safe & Sound

Alberto was deported by our beloved government on Wednesday, August 1st.  He left the US on a government plane and flew 2,000 miles away from the family we created together.  I was frantic when I didn’t hear from him at all on Wednesday.  I finally got ahold of him on Thursday afternoon when I called la Madrina’s / Madra’s house.  He had arrived from the bus station less than 15 minutes before I called, and I have never been so relieved in my adult life.  He didn’t call me from the bus station after landing as he’d promised, because someone told him that some of the payphones in the bus stations are rigged to save the last number dialed.  Unscrupulous people can call that last number dialed and extort money saying the person was ‘kidnapped’.  Sneaky little bastards…

I know that Alberto is an adult and he knows how to take care of himself, but I felt the ice block in my chest begin to crack and melt from the moment I was able to talk to him.  Maybe it’s simply the novelty of being able to call and talk to my best friend whenever I want.  I had to smile when he told me his priority after a shower and clean clothes was to searching out a taco cart and a haircut.

Keep moving forward

Friday came and went with little fanfare.  I managed to come up with an excellent idea on someone who could vouch for Alberto’s moral character; the pastor currently leading our church.  As of approximately 6 days ago, the pastor at our church is now Father Ortero, originally of Mexico.  I had a meeting with Father Ortero on Wednesday and told him the whole sad story.  He agreed to meet with Alberto in Jail and write a letter vouching for his good moral character.  He said he would even write the letter just based on what I had to say, but I thought it would be helpful to Alberto to visit with a priest anyhow.  The only downside was when Father Ortero said the Mexican man is not typically mature before they reach their mid to late 30’s, but I suppose I already knew that on my own.  I just need to talk to Alberto to make the appointment for Father Ortero to go and visit him. 

The thing I hate the most about this whole situation is when I see my husband so downtrodden.  The guards are rude to all of them and seem to go out of their way to belittle and harass their charges.  I understand well enough that more people will sign the deportation papers after a few days of this treatment, but isn’t being in jail for wanting a better life bad enough?  I know there are immigrants out there that do bad things and deserve this fate, but there are just as many if not more who contribute to society and wish to raise their children somewhere safe.  Would you punish the son for the sins of his father?  Oh wait, our government does that already.  Isn’t Alberto a prime example of a minor child brought to the United States who became a deportable ‘alien’ a mere 6 months after his 18th birthday?  I hate how these immigrants are referred to as ‘aliens’ as if they were from Neptune, instead of from the other side of a line someone long ago drew in the dirt. 

 

What are you thankful for?

Today, on the day after Thanksgiving, has got me thinking about what I am thankful for this year.  I have a new outlook on life and a different set of priorities from years past, and my new perspective might help someone out there discover something that they can be thankful for.

1)    I am thankful for the opportunity to finally see an end to all this misery and heartbreak.  Our future is still currently up in the air and rides on the shoulders of an immigration judge, but even knowing that the end of this journey is near is a blessing.  Whatever the outcome may be, we will face it united, as a family.
2)    I am thankful that Alberto is in Minnesota, even though he has been residing in county jails.  June of this year was the first time we had seen one another face to face in 1 year and 2 months.  Since then Ashley has come to know her father in a way that talking on the phone and looking at pictures never could. 
3)    I am thankful that Alberto has rediscovered his faith in God.  Faith has the power to move mountains and gives us the strength to take whatever life throws at us.  He is well on his way to becoming the man that I knew he could be, someone to admire and be proud of.
4)    I am thankful to be employed.  I work with people that care and support each other in the good time and the bad.  I feel blessed that I was guided to apply at this organization, and only more so to become a full-time employee.
5)    I am thankful for my family; my parents, my siblings, and my extended family.  It is amazing how a family will rally around a member that is in need of support when they need it the most.  There are people in my family who are anti-immigration, but those are the people I have largely learned to ignore from a young age.
6)    I am thankful that my daughter loves me, even though I have not always been the best mother I can be.  It pains me to admit that I cannot remember the first year of Ashley's life and though I may never forgive myself for that, she loves me.

Rollercoaster of Life

So the sentencing hearing went as expected yesterday, actually better than I was anticipating.  Alberto was sentenced to 1 year plus 1 day just as the probation officer had told me.  Something I didn’t expect was the Probation officer didn’t alter her report to include the correct dates that I had given her last Wednesday, so when Brian let me read the report before the hearing I corrected multiple inaccuracies.  Then Brian stated all of the changes I had made to the report, telling the Judge that ‘his client has never been 110% with dates’.  It was at this point when the prosecutor looked over at me and smirked.  We all know our strengths and weaknesses and dates just happen to be one of Alberto’s weaknesses.  Alberto was ‘released’ at the conclusion of the hearing but of course he didn’t go anywhere because of the immigration hold.

Lance called me on his way back from ICE and told me that immigration has Alberto marked as having been paroled into the United States.  He doesn’t know why they would have done that, but he is certain that Alberto will need another hearing which could be this week, but will be most likely next week.  I had a pounding headache at the time so I don’t remember much of what he said and I asked him to email me the details he discovered.  His plan was to follow up with the person in charge of Alberto’s case at ICE today to get an idea of a timeline for preparation.

Act of Kindness

I admit that I get irritated when Alberto asks me to make phone calls on behalf of the people he’s in jail with.  Call this guy’s sister because he needs more money in his commissary account, call this guy’s wife because the phone has calls blocked from the jail, and the reasons go on and on.  I really don’t mind helping people, what I mind is that these people end up with my phone number when I call them.  The latest call for assistance takes the cake for sure.

Alberto warned me that he had given my phone number to a woman named Nelia so that I could help her.  You see, Alberto had told his friend about how I made it so he could call Mexico and this friend wanted to do the same.  Nelia called me a scant 45 minutes later and I began to explain how to set up the accounts.  I was shocked to learn that she did not have an email address!  Since she described herself as computer illiterate, I took it upon myself to set up the system for her.  This process I discovered involves forwarding calls through Google Voice to a long distance provider called Localphone which then connects you to the number currently listed on their system.  The reason I agreed to set this up is because the phone calls between the boyfriend and Nelia were costing them a fortune as she was in the next state.  The telecom provider for the jail is one of those companies that loves to bleed people dry with fee upon fee upon fee.  I made sure all the settings matched what I had in place since the system worked for Alberto last week.  I told her what she needed to do to change the phone number the chain would link to in the end, but I have a feeling I’ll be changing the settings for her.

Potty-trained Preschooler on the loose

We managed to get Ashley potty-trained just in time for her to start going to Preschool this Wednesday.  She is enjoying it from what I can tell, and the teachers have mostly good things to say about her.  She loves to help clean up, but she has trouble keeping quiet during ‘rest time’.  She hasn’t had any accidents and doesn’t seem to be scrapping with any of the kids in her class.  This may be just the thing to help Ashley move onto the next step communication wise.  It would be nice if she started using full sentences to tell us what she needs or wants.  I just feel bad that I don’t get off early enough in the day to go and pick her up myself.  Mondays will be different though, if we continue going to visit Alberto as we have in the past.  I really don’t know how this is going to work out though, what I do know is that I’m going to have to think extra hard about where I need to go after work every day.

I received a letter in the mail on Friday from Alberto.  I love it when I get mail from Alberto because I know when he wrote that letter he was thinking of me.  I was just thinking the other day that I should get a nice box to put the letters in so I can keep them safe, although to be honest with myself they end up staying in my purse anyhow.  Alberto is miffed at me because I was supposed to call my mother-in-law this weekend to find out who is going with me to visit on Monday and I forgot as usual.  I happen to forget things all the damn time, usually if it involves something I don’t particularly want to do like call my mother-in-law.  I bet at this very moment I am forgetting something that I was supposed to do which will cause Alberto to become exasperated.  I do remember, since he reminded me tonight, that he requested that I find him a prayer book.  I found what I hope he was looking for on Amazon.com, and I’m somewhat irritated that shipping cost more than the book itself.  I think I’ll keep that little nugget to myself, Lord knows I don’t need to give Alberto any reasons to get annoyed with me since he’s proficient at that all by himself.  I’m also supposed to come up with song lyrics for him, but one of the bands he’s listed doesn’t appear to exist.  We’re already discussed this particular song and band, and he’s stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that he has the name misspelled.

A Little Bit About Me (Us)

Today after posting on my blog, I went back and read of the posts of the blogs I’m following.  There is another joint blogging effort making the rounds which I found out about from The Real Housewife of Cuidad Juarez.  My other blogging friends are: Medina's Moments, Us, After America, and Corin in Exile. So here goes my post that is a little bit about me:

1.    How long have you been with your husband?

This month we have known each other for 10 years; in December we will have been a couple for 10 years and married for 4 years. 

2.   Can you remember on funny miscommunication because of language barriers?

Well the incident that comes to mind is the time I told Alberto’s sister that I was pregnant.  I had only been starting to learn Spanish for about 6 months prior to this incident, and I think I’d been dating Alberto for a month or two at that point and I was still 16.

Maria had come up to ask me why I was eating so much, mostly because she was concerned for my health as we worked at McDonalds.  I meant to say how embarrassed I was that she would notice that I eat a ton, and that I didn’t usually eat lunch at school.  Instead I said, “Estoy embarazada…” at which point her jaw dropped.  She poked me in the gut and said “bebe”.  I turned several interesting shades of red as it dawned on me what I had actually said. 

I wonder if she remembers that…  Maybe I’ll ask her next time I call her!

3.   What state and/or city have you relocated to?

I haven’t gone anywhere yet.  We are still battling immigration and the legal system here in Minnesota.  I’m positive I’ll post something if we need to make the decision to move.

4.   Do you and your hubby have any children and if so, how old?

Alberto and I have a 3 year old daughter, Ashley Mendez.

5.   What is one thing that your blogger friends don’t know about you?

I think I’m pretty much an open book here on my blog (except for the name thing of course), so I need to think for a minute here.

I have it!  I love a good practical joke, and my senior prank was a dozy.  We had a teacher who was a real life version of ‘Runaway Bride’, but she was fun and made her subject interesting.  So, I had Ms. Carpenter for Sociology and we did an experiment on taboos in regards to illicit drug use.  The drug in our study was Ice Cubez and the users (us) would have to hide the fact that we had to have ice cubes in everything we consumed that was liquid.  We also had on these ugly bracelets as a physical manifestation of the addiction and we could not for any reason explain why we were wearing them.  Ms. Carpenter would tell the hall monitors and campus cop when the experiment was being conducted so that they could confiscate our ‘illegal contraband’.  Seeing how Ms. Carpenter also participated but no one would give her grief about the ice cubes, I hatched a plan.

During the last semester of the year I had a friend in her class who was supposed to tell me when the experiment was to take place.  We were about 3 weeks away from graduation when the sting operation was finally about to swing into motion.  My friend distracted Ms. Carpenter while I placed a cooler full of illicit drugs (ice cubes) under her desk.  Upon leaving her classroom, I tipped off the campus cop that Ms. Carpenter had illegal contraband in her classroom.  It was agreed that the campus cop would be accompanied by the principal and arrest Ms. Carpenter during the class my friend was in so that I would know what went down.  It was a thing of beauty, perfectly executed and shocking to see a teacher led away in handcuffs.  After our graduation ceremony, I thanked Ms. Carpenter for being such a good sport and admitted it was me.

6.   What are some of your favorite hobbies or past times?

I love movies except for horror flicks.  I am one of those people that hates it when someone misquotes a movie, so if I look annoyed you know who you are.

I devour books, especially romance novels by Nora Roberts, Lisa Klepas, or Johanna Lindsey.  I also enjoy cooking when no one is around to bug me, drawing, making miscellaneous crafts, and walking.

Give me a rainy Sunday with a good book and a few movies and that’s as close to heaven as I get.  It would only get better if you threw my husband into the mix.

7.   How did you stumble upon the blogging community?

I had been toying with the idea of blogging for several months because a few of my friends told me I should write a book.  Since writing a book is such a big undertaking, I decided to try blogging first and see if this is a possibility for me.  Then once I got past my second post, blogging turned into a wailing wall, although sometimes I wish people would comment so I would have some feedback.

8.   Have you learned something new about yourself during this whole process that has changed all of our lives?

I am stronger than I thought, and more stubborn than should be humanly possible.  I have a linear and mostly logical mind that indulges in the irrational for time to time.  I have found a renewed faith in God and discovered that there is still hope buried deep in my heart that everything will be ok.

I have learned to think positive because I cannot afford to be negative.  I cannot afford to have doubts, because I am an ‘all or nothing’ type of person.

9.   Something that you love about Mexico and something that you can’t stand or miss living without.

Keep in mind I have never been in Mexico for longer than two weeks.

I loved being able to walk to anything I needed in Mexico City or Cuautla.  I loved that if you missed the bus, a pecera would be by in 5 minutes to take you where you need to go.  I loved the street food with their full flavors and vendors yelling ‘ELOTES’ as they rode past your house on a bicycle.

I didn’t love the heat, and I don’t know if I would survive south of the border long enough to acclimate.  I can handle -20° weather easy, what I can’t handle is being parboiled by the sun in 60 seconds or less.  In less than an hour I got a sunburn bad enough on my arm that random people were offering sun block and aloe gel, and I earned my nickname ‘La Mas Tostada’.

10.Did you know your in-laws before moving and has it been a big adjustment being closer to them?

My feelings towards my in-laws, Gisela in particular, is perfectly clear elsewhere in this blog.  They mostly live here in Minnesota and I get on well with my sister/brother-in-laws.  However the matriarch of the family, Gisela, drives me insane.

11.If you were going back to the states next week, where is the first place you would go after seeing your family?

I’m still here.  Let’s say that Alberto is acquitted and immigration paroles him into the United States for the rest of the process, the rest place I would go with him is to Taquería Los Ocampo with the family.



It is at times like these that it hits me just how much I miss him.

Te amo con todo mi corazon y mi alma Alberto...

Rambles

I’m going to walk away from any additional anxieties for the time being and focus on the neuroses I already have.  Lord knows I have enough troubling me without adding to the laundry list of fears that are causing me to lose sleep.  I keep reminding myself that I get to see Alberto tomorrow and that in itself is a small miracle.  As a matter of fact the visit only costs me $4 for parking and some gas.  On our last trip to Mexico, the airfare was $622.61 for me with an additional $77.39 for Ashley’s ticket since they only charged me the ‘taxes’ for a child under 2 years old.  What’s interesting is if you add everything up: $622.61 + $77.39 + $77.39 = $777.39 which I thought was a pretty auspicious number at the time.  Three and its multiples happen to be lucky for me and nine is some numerology result I vaguely remember from several years ago. 

There was a point in my life where I spent a large portion of my waking hours taking online tests because I had no life or friends to speak of.  According to my mom, I did not cope with the move from the city out to the suburbs very well.  She told me that I was difficult and largely unwilling to try and make new friends which may have caused the majority of the problems I had with kids my age throughout my school years.  Well what can you expect from an 8 year old really?  Not only that, we moved two weeks before school was out so I spent the entire summer moping around because I couldn’t see my friends.  What could possibly go wrong moving 20 miles away from the only friends you’ve ever known, and being socially awkward?  I can’t blame anyone but myself for the years that followed and there are sometimes I wish I could go back and change everything but then where would I be now?  Sometimes it’s best not to think about it.

Preparation involves a trip to the past

Preparing for the support group meeting on Saturday has got me thinking about the journey that led us to where we are today.  It helps me to put thoughts and ideas in writing, so I’ll invite you along on this trip down memory lane.  My story begins with some old journal pages I found this evening which talk about events at McDonalds that I don’t even remember.  It’s interesting to read what I had written 10 years ago.  I realize now just how naïve I was at 16 when I thought I knew everything.

The Mexican crew at McDonalds was essentially composed of two families: the Mendez family and the Bahena family.  From the beginning I gravitated towards the Mendez family, particularly two sisters named Rosa and Yesica.  I was comfortable with them, as they made a sincere effort to teach me Spanish.  During the summer of my first year at McDonalds I started to work the closing shift which gave me more time to immerse myself in the language.  The cultural differences often caught me off guard during this period of time.  For example the Mendez women had a habit of grabbing my hand or arm whenever they walked by me.  I eventually got used to their concept of personal space, but it definitely took a while.