Immigration Part 2

When I left off in immigration part one, I had left the immigration office with a receipt. This receipt had a handwritten chicken scratch on the back with a date - January 27, or rather, 27/1/10. The guy at the office said, "when you come back you'll see a man in a military uniform outside. He will take you to get your fingerprints." Hmmm.

I showed up on the 27th, early, hoping to beat the crowd. I see three military guys behind a waist high fence. A crowd of immigrants is clustered in front of the fence. Again, no signage, no one obtaining information from the crowd, no line. Just a group of people waiting. For what, no one seemed to know. I watched the military guys deflect people's questions in between lighting cigarettes. The one closest to me obviously watched too many Vietnam movies. He was smoking by taking the cigarette out of his mouth with all of his fingers, instead of with the first two. He scowled as he blew out the smoke, trying to look tough. But it was hard to take him seriously with the waxed eyebrows and perfectly groomed sideburns.

After waiting about 15 minutes, I wondered why we hadn't asked this guy anything. When I say we, I mean Lorenzo. When one of the guys left his post behind the fence and ventured through the crowd, Lorenzo stopped him. This young lad was obviously surprised to hear a native speaker in a crowd of lower class, immigrants. He was polite but not too polite, he was direct and straightforward. "Do you have an appointment?" "We're not sure..." "Do you have an appointment?" "I have this piece of paper with today's date written on it." "Ok. You need to go in."

Yes, thank you. I was just waiting here for fun.

So this question prompted the guy in the crowd to nod to the groomed eyebrow man behind the fence. Finally he held up my receipt, "who has one of these?" People held up their receipts. He counted us off and opened the gate, careful not to let the other animals through. "Ok, you six come with me." The guy in the crowd told Lorenzo, "not you, just her." And so I went through the gate alone. Lorenzo is the Chavez of Rome; standing up for the people without a voice. And if he wasn't there? I'm pretty sure I would have stood there all day watching groomed eyebrow man smoke a million cigarettes.