The Canadian Saga: The Final Chapter?
More than you EVER wanted to know about Dremiel's Immigration Status or...
Hey, remember when the nice Immigration people in Bufflao FINALLY sent me some useful information and the right forms and made vague references to maybe even apologising for the mess of “My Situation” and left follow messages on emails exhorting collegues to “not f**k things up any more than they are” and such. Man, those were good times. I even kinda, sorta dared to believe them when they said that all I needed to do was to complete three forms (23 pages in total, requiring me to check an 1979 address via google earth street view) and present them for a brief (billed at 10 minutes or less) interview with an Immigration Officer.
Complication the first: The Canadian Consul-General in Houston is a business-only office and does not have any Immigration Officers. Ditto the one in Dallas. You know where I could see an actual Immigration Officer for my ten minute inteview? That’s right, in BUFFALO, NY or in Detroit (clearly another sign that Torchwood Detroit is a go). Or, at a major Port of Entry.
Several emails later I had determined that the crossing on US 89 between Burlington, VT and Montreal, QC (our planned port of entry) DID have an Immigration Officer. Yay!
I wasn’t thrilled to leave all this until the actual trip when I had my husband, teenaged son, and Sister in Law (Dave’s sister, who is fab, is travelling with us) in tow and twiddling their thumbs during the process but hey, it should be quick, right?
Well, no. Not really. I mean sure if Buffalo had done what they said they would and opened an inquiry and all but alas, they had not. There were, in fact no records at all of our lengthy email correspondence except the copies that I brought with me!
When we got to the border I met Kate, my new best friend and the most fabulous ambassador Canada has ever had. Kate and I spent about an hour and half togther on Monday but really she laid it out to me in the first four minutes. WHY this was the mess it was. WHAT happened in 2006 to make it worse and HOW we needed to proceed. I was particularly fond of the ‘we’ in the last part. Well, the last part as a whole since it was pretty much what I had been asking people for WEEKS. Even better, at no point did she ever make me feel like I was to blame for this shit! She is the bomb. Really.
At her suggestion I sent the family on to have a little dejeuner in Quebec and come back in 90 minutes or so. They loved her aunt’s resto BTW.
Kate, meanwhile, read through all my notes and the print outs our emails, rolled her eyes a few times, muttered a few rude thing in French (that’s pretty much the French I’m best at!) and then got to work. In less than two hours she had opened and completed an investigation into my Permananent Resident status concluding that 1) It had been conferred upon me without respect to my actual residence and without my knowledge 2) I had failed to meet the obligations of said status 3) I had never attempted to claim any rights associated with said status 4) I had made two good faith attempts to relinquish any claim to PR status in the past 5) There were no humanitarian reasons for me to retain my status nor did I qualify as a refugee (this actually took about forty minutes to complete) 6) I should be stripped of my PR status and have no legal status in Canada. 7) I had thirty days to appeal her ruling and nothing would be final until after that thirty days had passed.
So, I was to be allowed to enter Canada with the condition that I departed within thirty days and obtained PROOF OF EXIT. If I did not depart or did not obtain PROOF OF EXIT they would issue a deportation order and I would never be able to enter Canada again.
Kate provided me with a dizzying, but in many ways comforting to my HR mananger’s soul, array of computer generated documents with my picture and fingerprints and name all over them. Docs explaining all of my legal rights, docs explaining the appeal procedure, docs for me to sign indicating that I had received the other docs. It was enough to make me positively GLEEFUL! If there was that much paperwork being generated in my name it meant there were RECORDS of all this. I ♥ Kate! Last but not least I had a big ‘ol form in quadruplicate for my PROOF OF EXIT (with a particualrly bad photo of me not wearing my glasses and staring off into middle space like a stoned marmot.)
I hugged Kate goodbye, I did ask if we could have a pic together but Immigration Officers are not supposed to have their pictures taken while on duty (not sure about that but she wasn’t having a bad hair day or anything so maybe it’s true) and we were off to Montreal. My paperwork was a deeply gratifying quarter-inch thick!
Upon exiting Canada I proudly presented my sheaf of paper to Louise and Henri, two startled officers at another crossing. Louise’s bewilderment scared me for a moment but it just turned out that this is almost always handled electronically now and it is rare to have a paper trail in addition to the computer record. She read it through and looked at my file and said “Oh, I understand why she wanted paper records of all this!” Then she made a rude comment about the idiots in Buffalo and prepared to stamp my forms… just when I thought we were done there was (I kid you not) a twelve minute debate about which crossing code to use because that border crossing had three different designations or something. In the end they found the correct stamp, stamped all with vigor and enthusiasm and gave me my copies of everything. She even made photocopies of docs that didn’t have carbons for me just so I would have everything. Then she called Kate, who had left a note on the electronic file requesting notification (GOD I LOVE HER!), to tell her it was done. Then Louise and Henri shook my hand solemnly and invited me to visit Canada any time I wished.
So, I’m not quite done with this until my window of appeal is closed but MAN do I have the documents to back up my position now. And more importantly so does the Canadian government. Kate told me that I’ll be tagged everytime I cross the border now and will need to go in and present my docs and all but I can petititon to have the tag removed in one year.
And so, the long process begun thirty years ago when I was SEVENTEEN years old and a clerk misfiled my papers upon my repatriation is now complete. I cannot fathom why any of you would still be reading this but if you are thanks for following this bureaucratic train-wreck to the end. We’ll have to have a toast with Apple cider and Old Dutch Salt & Vinegar Chips and an Aero Bar when my thirty days are done!
Ah, if you're new the short explanation is: I lived in Canada as a minor. I was never a Permanent Resident. I moved back to the US in 1980. My records got messed up. Then they got messed up in a different way. Then I thought they were corrected, but they weren't. I've spent a lot of time this summer being frustrated with the Immigration Section of the Canadian Consul-General of Buffalo where they are supposed to handle this kind of thing. My records should (knock wood) be fixed now!
Hey, remember when the nice Immigration people in Bufflao FINALLY sent me some useful information and the right forms and made vague references to maybe even apologising for the mess of “My Situation” and left follow messages on emails exhorting collegues to “not f**k things up any more than they are” and such. Man, those were good times. I even kinda, sorta dared to believe them when they said that all I needed to do was to complete three forms (23 pages in total, requiring me to check an 1979 address via google earth street view) and present them for a brief (billed at 10 minutes or less) interview with an Immigration Officer.
Complication the first: The Canadian Consul-General in Houston is a business-only office and does not have any Immigration Officers. Ditto the one in Dallas. You know where I could see an actual Immigration Officer for my ten minute inteview? That’s right, in BUFFALO, NY or in Detroit (clearly another sign that Torchwood Detroit is a go). Or, at a major Port of Entry.
Several emails later I had determined that the crossing on US 89 between Burlington, VT and Montreal, QC (our planned port of entry) DID have an Immigration Officer. Yay!
I wasn’t thrilled to leave all this until the actual trip when I had my husband, teenaged son, and Sister in Law (Dave’s sister, who is fab, is travelling with us) in tow and twiddling their thumbs during the process but hey, it should be quick, right?
Well, no. Not really. I mean sure if Buffalo had done what they said they would and opened an inquiry and all but alas, they had not. There were, in fact no records at all of our lengthy email correspondence except the copies that I brought with me!
When we got to the border I met Kate, my new best friend and the most fabulous ambassador Canada has ever had. Kate and I spent about an hour and half togther on Monday but really she laid it out to me in the first four minutes. WHY this was the mess it was. WHAT happened in 2006 to make it worse and HOW we needed to proceed. I was particularly fond of the ‘we’ in the last part. Well, the last part as a whole since it was pretty much what I had been asking people for WEEKS. Even better, at no point did she ever make me feel like I was to blame for this shit! She is the bomb. Really.
At her suggestion I sent the family on to have a little dejeuner in Quebec and come back in 90 minutes or so. They loved her aunt’s resto BTW.
Kate, meanwhile, read through all my notes and the print outs our emails, rolled her eyes a few times, muttered a few rude thing in French (that’s pretty much the French I’m best at!) and then got to work. In less than two hours she had opened and completed an investigation into my Permananent Resident status concluding that 1) It had been conferred upon me without respect to my actual residence and without my knowledge 2) I had failed to meet the obligations of said status 3) I had never attempted to claim any rights associated with said status 4) I had made two good faith attempts to relinquish any claim to PR status in the past 5) There were no humanitarian reasons for me to retain my status nor did I qualify as a refugee (this actually took about forty minutes to complete) 6) I should be stripped of my PR status and have no legal status in Canada. 7) I had thirty days to appeal her ruling and nothing would be final until after that thirty days had passed.
So, I was to be allowed to enter Canada with the condition that I departed within thirty days and obtained PROOF OF EXIT. If I did not depart or did not obtain PROOF OF EXIT they would issue a deportation order and I would never be able to enter Canada again.
Kate provided me with a dizzying, but in many ways comforting to my HR mananger’s soul, array of computer generated documents with my picture and fingerprints and name all over them. Docs explaining all of my legal rights, docs explaining the appeal procedure, docs for me to sign indicating that I had received the other docs. It was enough to make me positively GLEEFUL! If there was that much paperwork being generated in my name it meant there were RECORDS of all this. I ♥ Kate! Last but not least I had a big ‘ol form in quadruplicate for my PROOF OF EXIT (with a particualrly bad photo of me not wearing my glasses and staring off into middle space like a stoned marmot.)
I hugged Kate goodbye, I did ask if we could have a pic together but Immigration Officers are not supposed to have their pictures taken while on duty (not sure about that but she wasn’t having a bad hair day or anything so maybe it’s true) and we were off to Montreal. My paperwork was a deeply gratifying quarter-inch thick!
Upon exiting Canada I proudly presented my sheaf of paper to Louise and Henri, two startled officers at another crossing. Louise’s bewilderment scared me for a moment but it just turned out that this is almost always handled electronically now and it is rare to have a paper trail in addition to the computer record. She read it through and looked at my file and said “Oh, I understand why she wanted paper records of all this!” Then she made a rude comment about the idiots in Buffalo and prepared to stamp my forms… just when I thought we were done there was (I kid you not) a twelve minute debate about which crossing code to use because that border crossing had three different designations or something. In the end they found the correct stamp, stamped all with vigor and enthusiasm and gave me my copies of everything. She even made photocopies of docs that didn’t have carbons for me just so I would have everything. Then she called Kate, who had left a note on the electronic file requesting notification (GOD I LOVE HER!), to tell her it was done. Then Louise and Henri shook my hand solemnly and invited me to visit Canada any time I wished.
So, I’m not quite done with this until my window of appeal is closed but MAN do I have the documents to back up my position now. And more importantly so does the Canadian government. Kate told me that I’ll be tagged everytime I cross the border now and will need to go in and present my docs and all but I can petititon to have the tag removed in one year.
And so, the long process begun thirty years ago when I was SEVENTEEN years old and a clerk misfiled my papers upon my repatriation is now complete. I cannot fathom why any of you would still be reading this but if you are thanks for following this bureaucratic train-wreck to the end. We’ll have to have a toast with Apple cider and Old Dutch Salt & Vinegar Chips and an Aero Bar when my thirty days are done!
Ah, if you're new the short explanation is: I lived in Canada as a minor. I was never a Permanent Resident. I moved back to the US in 1980. My records got messed up. Then they got messed up in a different way. Then I thought they were corrected, but they weren't. I've spent a lot of time this summer being frustrated with the Immigration Section of the Canadian Consul-General of Buffalo where they are supposed to handle this kind of thing. My records should (knock wood) be fixed now!