So I remember having a dream/nightmare last night, in which I was sharing a cab with some friends on a Sunday to get to the airport. I was trying to catch a flight to get home for Christmas, and it was snowing in Quito and the cab driver was actually driving slowly (this never happens) and I realized that I didn't apply for my "Permission to Leave" document so I would forever loose my flight and I'd be stuck in Quito... forever...
This was my own personal nightmare.
Luckily it was just a dream and Quito isn't that bad, anyway, right?
Friday, December 14
Sunday, December 2
Migration woes
Greetings from Quito! I write after a hiatus of a few weeks so that I could visit the states and relax before beginning part 2 of the practicum. The vacation itself was great, but traveling was a bit hairy. This was mostly due to my own stupidity.
I have a volunteer visa so that I would be able to stay legally in Ecuador for more than 6 months, with out having to worry about if a visitor/tourist visa extension would be approved. I assumed that because I was a gringa, that I would have to follow the norms and rules that most other gringos follow: enter the country and leave whenever you desire, withing a given amount of time. Unfortunately, since I had a proper visa, I had to follow a more complicated set of rules and norms that residents and citizens have to abide by: asking for permission to leave before leaving the country.
So when I applied for my visa in DC, I was given a paper (that of course I did not read) that said "Visit the migration office for foreigners within 30 days of entering Ecuador". Of course I didn't do that, because I thought that it wasn't obligatory/necessary/something that I could be fined 200 dollars if I didn't complete it. Anyway, a few weeks before my trip, I realized that I needed to get an identity document, called a "Censo". So in trying to cut through the red tape and get my Censo, I had to register my visa with another office, because I got it outside of Ecuador. This entailed 3 whole days of running around to different government offices, crying in said offices, paying fines various banks, and making sculptures out of red tape.
I finally got my Censo (214 dollars, 4 passport pictures, 10 taxi rides, 1 manila envelope, 2 letters from landlord & boss, and 3 copies of my passport later), the day before my flight. I packed my bag chock full of South American goodies for family and friends, and went to the airport early Saturday morning. I checked in with the airline, paid my departure tax, and approached Migration. The woman in the UPS-like uniform asked me for my boarding pass, passport and "Permission to Leave" document. I started crying when she told me that I was not allowed to leave Ecuador without having permission to leave. She advised that I go back downstairs to the check-in counter, switch my flight to later that day, and go BACK to the migration office so that I could get this "Permission to Leave" document.
I took yet another taxi to yet another migration office at 6:30 in the morning (since being at the airport at 4:00 AM). I waited with a couple from Colombia for the office to open, and finally got my "Permission to leave" document. Took it back to the airport, and hoped on my flight to Miami and finally Newark to see Steve's smiling face. I was never so happy to be in New Jersey.
Although I've learned academically that you can not apply my ethno-centric norms and expectations to every other cultural context, this was an eye-opening experience that re-confirmed this point. I assumed that all people had the ability to leave their own country without permission from the government, and that since I was a foreigner I would not need to heed the same set of rules. But, since I have the privilege of staying in Ecuador for more than 6 months as a volunteer, I have to adapt my expectations and behaviors to fit the context.
The other ironic point in all of this is that I got caught up in immigration problems, despite the fact that I spent two years working with immigrants and refugees in the US. One would think that I would have learned something about following the rules with respect to immigration when abroad. Some lessons are learned the hard way, I suppose.
I have a volunteer visa so that I would be able to stay legally in Ecuador for more than 6 months, with out having to worry about if a visitor/tourist visa extension would be approved. I assumed that because I was a gringa, that I would have to follow the norms and rules that most other gringos follow: enter the country and leave whenever you desire, withing a given amount of time. Unfortunately, since I had a proper visa, I had to follow a more complicated set of rules and norms that residents and citizens have to abide by: asking for permission to leave before leaving the country.
So when I applied for my visa in DC, I was given a paper (that of course I did not read) that said "Visit the migration office for foreigners within 30 days of entering Ecuador". Of course I didn't do that, because I thought that it wasn't obligatory/necessary/something that I could be fined 200 dollars if I didn't complete it. Anyway, a few weeks before my trip, I realized that I needed to get an identity document, called a "Censo". So in trying to cut through the red tape and get my Censo, I had to register my visa with another office, because I got it outside of Ecuador. This entailed 3 whole days of running around to different government offices, crying in said offices, paying fines various banks, and making sculptures out of red tape.
I finally got my Censo (214 dollars, 4 passport pictures, 10 taxi rides, 1 manila envelope, 2 letters from landlord & boss, and 3 copies of my passport later), the day before my flight. I packed my bag chock full of South American goodies for family and friends, and went to the airport early Saturday morning. I checked in with the airline, paid my departure tax, and approached Migration. The woman in the UPS-like uniform asked me for my boarding pass, passport and "Permission to Leave" document. I started crying when she told me that I was not allowed to leave Ecuador without having permission to leave. She advised that I go back downstairs to the check-in counter, switch my flight to later that day, and go BACK to the migration office so that I could get this "Permission to Leave" document.
I took yet another taxi to yet another migration office at 6:30 in the morning (since being at the airport at 4:00 AM). I waited with a couple from Colombia for the office to open, and finally got my "Permission to leave" document. Took it back to the airport, and hoped on my flight to Miami and finally Newark to see Steve's smiling face. I was never so happy to be in New Jersey.
Although I've learned academically that you can not apply my ethno-centric norms and expectations to every other cultural context, this was an eye-opening experience that re-confirmed this point. I assumed that all people had the ability to leave their own country without permission from the government, and that since I was a foreigner I would not need to heed the same set of rules. But, since I have the privilege of staying in Ecuador for more than 6 months as a volunteer, I have to adapt my expectations and behaviors to fit the context.
The other ironic point in all of this is that I got caught up in immigration problems, despite the fact that I spent two years working with immigrants and refugees in the US. One would think that I would have learned something about following the rules with respect to immigration when abroad. Some lessons are learned the hard way, I suppose.
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