Judicial Sytem on Strike?

Why did't I think of that? I sure hope I didn't put you and me at risk.

Seriously, I don't have any particular beefs with the US Embassy per se. I imagine that government bureaucrasy is pretty much standardized world-wide. The folks in our consular section have their procedures, which for the most part (see below) are logical, and when you understand the system, everything runs fairly smoothly.

I did have occassion to meet a character right out of that old but famous book "The Ugly American" while I was in there doing my business. It made me feel embarrassed, with a few caveats, of course. I was in there to renew my passport last Monday. First stop: a guy outside the main office has a computerized photo studio set up, and for C$100, he will provide you with two passport-acceptable photos. Then, into the main "office", which has a security door about 4 inches thick, remote-controlled, and so heavy that you need to have eaten a hearty breakfast to push it open after you get the all-important "click" by the security officer behind smoked glass.

The folks in there are fairly cordial, and speak English (although you need to know Spanish to negotiate with all the security personnel, as their English is heavily accented). I explain my mission, and am given a simple form to fill out, and directed back outside to another big room with a similar heavy door, where I am instructed, after receiving a card with a number on it by the security agent, to go pay at Window #7. Inside this room, which is spacious and air-conditioned, are rows of chairs in neat lines, all facing numerous rows of bank-teller like windows. With several people aready sitting in these rows of chairs (no one milling around), I have the fleeting impression that I am either finding my row on an airplane about to take off, or else respectfully finding a seat in a church where the wake for a departed soul is in progress.

Well versed in the ways of bureaucratic delays, I have my trusty paperback novel in hand to keep me occupied while I wait my turn. I sit down beside this lady, a fellow American, who looked to be late 50's or early 60's. It didn't take long to figure out she wasn't a happy camper. Seems like things were taking way too long for her liking, since after all, she was an AMERICAN (in sotto voce, not that quiet) in HER embassy. I respectfully mentioned that I had lived in other countries outside the US, and that this embasssy didn't appear to be any slower than usual. That comment didn't help much, nor the fact that I had a book to entertain me. I tried to keep my eyes on the page, but kept reading the same paragraph over and over, as I was subjected to other not so quiet comments on the state of affairs.

Things came to a head when a very elderly couple walked up to the all-important Window #7 (by the way, the lady running Window #7 definitely prefers Spanish, which was the de facto language de jure in this room). The gentleman could barely walk, he was so old, and the lady with him not much better, although slightly more mobile and better able to communicate. The old man's teeth were long gone, and his utterances in Spanish were just barely understandable. Since they had just walked in the door and proceeded directly to Window #7, it was more than my fellow American could take, since, according to her, she had already been waiting more than 30 minutes to be summoned up to Window #7.

She launched into attack mode, and began to berate them (in terribly bad, broken accented Spanish) for daring to cut in line, especially since she was AMERICAN and this was HER embassy! The lady, very obviously Nicaraguan, produced her passport to prove that she was also a US Citizen, and what followed was an ugly exchange of words that had me trying (unsuccessfully) to leap into my book and dissappear. Not stumped by this tactic, she leaped to her feet and stormed out the door to get the security agent involved with this line-skipping elderly couple, who by the way, had showed the irate lady they indeed did have a card with a lower number.

The irate woman returned madder than a hornet, blowing smoke and flames, and informed me that the security agent had the gall to give them a lower number, simply because they were "ancianos". I am sure that since the security agent was Nicaraguan, she felt that a terrible plot of injustice had been hatched and perpetrated among Nicaraguans inside her own ... her very own ... embassy, God forbid! She informed me that she was 72 years old, and had just as much right to special treatment as the next guy. She may have been honest about the age, but truthfully, looking at her general appearance and mobility, I would never have guessed, and compared to the poor couple at Window #7, they were light years apart. Indeed, the old man fell while shuffling away from the window to the door, and had to be helped to his feet again.

Eventually, things calmed down, she got her turn, and I got my turn. With receipt in hand, it was time to go back to the main office and finish the paperwork for the passport renewal. There I encountered the same woman in another hailstorm, loudly protesting the deceptive nature of the US Embassy who was slapping her with an un-announced, additional charge of $6.95 for delivery of her new passport via courier service. Shrieking in rage, she slammed out the door, swearing vengance on one and all!

Nothing like being in the middle of a live soap opera! While I'd be the first to admit that there are some thoughts about Nicaraguans that are 100% Nicaraguan in every way shape and form and behaviour, but just happen to have a US Passport, that is beside the point. These folks really did need special consideration, and were due the common courtesy that I would hope any true American would give to the extremely elderly. Given the fact that there were many Nicaraguan folks in the room taking care of business, I was almost embarassed to be an American at that point. I also have issues with the need to speak a foreign language to gain access to one's own embassy and navigate within it, but since I am so fluent and love to speak Spanish, I don't gripe about it out loud.

So, why would I even mention the word "inefficiency" in the same breath as US Embassy? Well, I went back there on Friday with my wife to help her renew her passport (she could only get off work on Friday during the 1:30 to 3:00 Monday thru Friday, except Thursday, timeframe that passport matters are received -- I went earlier in the week to "learn the ropes"). We went through all the procedures, and all was fine until the lady at the counter informed my wife that she would have to CANCEL her present passport, thus leaving her without a valid passport for the two weeks it will take to get the new passport back here. I explained to her that this could not happen, because it wasn't logical to expect any US citizen to be moving around in a foreign country a couple of weeks without a valid passport. She finally decided that she would have to consult her supervisor for permission to allow my wife to leave with anything other than CANCELLED stamped into her passport. When I explained that I had just renewed my passport at the same window on Monday, and the gentlemen waiting on my didn't make any attempt to cancel mine, I got a raised eyebrow that suggested maybe I wasn't being truthful. Finally, after a lenghtly consultation, where I could see her arguing with her supervisor (incredibly, all in Spanish), she relucantly agreed to hand back my wife's passport to her, with a stern warning to be sure and bring this passport back to be CANCELLED when she picked up the new one (we had arranged to come to the Embassy to pick them up rather than pay the courier fee, especially when delivery folks seem to have problems finding our house) --- as if we could even get into the Embassy without a passport.

Fun and games, eh?