Blame It on La Visa Loca – Part VII “Forefinger Printing” (First posted on Friendster, July 15, 2009) Scene: Immigration Section, Tom Bradley Airport, Los Angeles Date: April 23, 2009 Time: A little after midnight Arriving in Los Angeles from Manila on board Philippine Airlines after a long, leg-cramping, tiring, sleepless 12-hour flight, we went directly to the Immigration Section to submit our sealed visa packets in clear plastic envelopes which the US Embassy in Manila and the lady who conducted the Pre-Departure Seminar had directed us NEVER to open. The stocky, middle aged guy at the booth we went to asked us as to how long we had waited for our visas. “Twenty-four years,” I replied truthfully. “You should not have waited that long. Had you gone to Mexico, you could have simply jumped across the border,” he commented, smiling. Then he proceeded to electronically take my finger prints and picture. When my wife’s turn came, the guy wiped her sweaty hands (a sign of nervousness?), with his hands. When he took her picture, he said: “You have a nice smile!” After that, we went to another section where another guy had to get a print only of our right forefingers. The guy, with his bulbous nose, dark Latino (?) features and unsmiling face, immediately reminded me of one of the Turkish guards in the film “Midnight Express.” When my turn came, he rolled my right forefinger on sticky black ink and proceeded to guide it on to the small square on the card where the imprint should be, saying: “Do not press.” Right at that moment, my mobile phone rang! It was my first daughter, checking as to where we were. And without my wanting to, I pressed my forefinger on the card making the whorls and lines of my imprint thick and smudged. Man: (Raising his voice) I told you not to press your finger! Do you understand English? Me : (With hackles rising) Of course I do! I was distracted by my mobile phone. You heard it, right? Man: (In a loud voice) Then switch it off! Me : Just a minute! (Hastily taking my phone with my left hand out of my left trousers pocket to switch it off, and in my haste, almost dropping it.) (Looking hin straight in the eye.) There! It’s off! Man: (Wiping my right forefinger with tissue paper, and pressing it again on ink, he guided my finger on to a new card. Satisfied with the imprint, he got the smudged card and rudely tore it in front of me. Before turning away, he looked at me with such unmistakable contempt.) Me : (Still fixing my eyes on him, I muttered.) Haruy, kon hirani la hi Samrayan, ipabubugkot ta gud ikaw!Nga irangak mo ada hin maglilini-ot-li-ot ka na la didto ha Handig ngan Buruhisan. (Were Samrayan – the fairy king of Homonhon – near, I would have let him abduct you. Surely, you would go on wailing as you go befuddled around Handig and Buruhisan – Samrayan’s mystic realm.) Much later, after getting our baggage from the carousel and placing them on our pushcart, we waited for Mr. Bulbous Nose to give us our passports. Me : (Turning to my wife) Nahingangaruyag ka la ano kangina han guin kikinaput-kaputan an im tudlo hat nga lalaki? (You really liked it when that guy kept on holding your hands?) Wife: Hin-o nga lalaki? (Which man?) Me : Ano man an siniring nga (The one who said): “You have a nice smile.” Hinirikhirik ka pa gud han hingaruyag. (You even giggled with pleasure.) Wife: Kon di ka nalalagas, di ka nag-mama-abogho.(Had you not become old, you would not have become the jealous type.) Me : May-ada niya box hin tissue paper. Waray gamita kay karuyag la niya magkinapot-kapot han im tudlo. (He has a box of tissue paper. He didn’t use it because he simply wanted to keep on holding your hands.) Wife : Tatapalan ta ikaw. (I’ll slap you.) Me : Haruy naugop gud hit iya uyab nga Markano. (Oh, how she sides with her American boyfriend.) Wife: Kon may madungog ha im nga taga aton, masiring gud nga kun di ka nahinganganhi ha States di ka na kukulang-kulang! (If somebody from our place would hear you now, he’d say that had you not come to the States, you wouldn’t have turned crazy.) And the laughter that ensued somehow soothed our tired muscles, not to mention my ruffled feelings.
Posted on: Tue, 23 Sep 2014 23:18:26 +0000
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