I had been aiming to make the third trek to San Miguel de Allende around the 13th of the month, thinking that time and finances would be better. However, my husband started worrying me about the trip, asking me when was the last day I could go and what I had to do in this next step and hence I started having nightmares that I had missed out on getting my papers by one day or that I completely forgot to go and then was thrown out of México. So I moved up the date of the trip, after having checked on the official website to see that my papers had been approved for the next step on the 10th of this month, a mere 12 days after I submitted them (See Getting Legal–Trip 2) I remembered seeing a sign in the office saying I had 30 days for tramites so just to be safe, we would go the 9th. Maybe even stop in San Pedro for some shoes.
My husband woke up and started marching around at 4 a.m. that morning, for who knows what reason. He was worried about taking care of the animals before we left. However, that whole process (taking Beauty and Shadow to pasture and moving Shrek and Fiona to a fresh grassy spot) took a whopping 15 minutes. The goats, chickens and ducks were not awake yet, so no point in throwing food at them so early as food lying about is an open invitation to ants.
So we left the house super early. Each of us said our prayers for a safe journey and we were off. Well, not quite. Our truck battery had decided to call it quits, so my son and I gave old Butch (the truck) a good shove to get her going and then we were off.
We stopped for gas as it doesn’t do to start a trip without a full tank (see Driving Hazards–Gas and Illumination) and the truck wouldn’t start again. Fortunately, at that hour, there was little traffic and we could push-start.
Having gotten up at an unearthly hour, my husband needed an extra cup of coffee, which then required an emergency pit-stop just before we got to Celaya. As the battery was still giving us fits, we had to give it another push to get going again.
We made it through Celaya without a transito stop (See Driving Hazards–Police stops) but we weren’t too worried since our verficación sticker (inspection sticker) was still good until the end of the month. (See Getting Legal–Trip 1)
We arrived in San Miguel de Allende at 8:30 and parked in the bus stop area near the immigration office because it was on a slight downhill slant. My husband stayed in the car in case transitos (traffic police) came cruising by and I went to stand in line.
The office opened at 9 a.m. and I marched myself to the little window for a number. I was #6, so it was only 9:30 or so when it was my turn. The business tycoon in front of me gave the girl a hard time about his papers not being ready and I was feeling smug about how my papers were all in order until she told me that although I had been approved for processing, the next step was to make the payment of $3815 pesos.
What??? I thought the next step was to leave my fingerprints to send to D.F. for approval and then the 4th step was the payment and told her as much. About this time, my husband came in (I expect to check on me) and said that it wasn’t the girl’s fault, so I shouldn’t take it out on her. I thought I was calm about it–ok, so deep down I knew I had transformed into the type of annoying ex-pat that I feel superior to when he or she starts in on the inefficiency of the Mexican immigration process. But I couldn’t help it.
So my husband took over. He asked when the last day was that I could process my papers. She looked it over and said I had about a month. She also said that it might be possible to process my fingerprints the same day as the payment so that I would not have to make another trip. She was helpful and polite. However, my blood pressure had already risen and I was having some problem getting ahold of myself.
I had canceled all my classes for the day for this trip. I had spent money I didn’t have to spare for gas for this trip. I had been awake since 4 a.m. for this trip. I didn’t have the money to make the payment today. Yaddy-yaddy-yah.
My husband took hold of my arm and escorted me from the building. He pointed out that being upset wouldn’t change a thing. Since when has he been the paragon of virtue in the patience department? I certainly didn’t need any lessons from him. So I sat in silence and stewed in my own juices until we got to Celaya in mourning for my new shoes.
In Celaya, of course, there was a traffic stop for verification stickers, but we breezed through without incident. I started to calm down a bit. We stopped in San Pedro as we had planned. I didn’t see any shoes I liked, so I felt a little better about that loss.
Then we went to the roadside buffet we liked, but again I was out of luck. Usually, I get rice, beans, and huevos rancheros or nopales, but today everything was pork. Pork in mole. Pork in tomatillo salsa. Pork in red sauce. Blah! So just beans and rice for me thank you. Disappointing. Then the pushing of the truck took longer since there was no incline and my son and I huffed and puffed nearly 1/8 of a mile until it started, but it did start and we made it home safely.
I suggested that next time we pray for a safe journey and successful completion of the task at hand. Perhaps we had not been specific enough in our prayers. I was so tired and down that I took an afternoon siesta that afternoon. Maybe the next trip would be better.