|MY SMOOTH BEHIND.|
One issue resolved!
I have the document that will temporarily make it possible for me to re-enter Spain after visiting the United States. I had a successful visit today to the Foreigners Office at the Plaza de España.
San Geraldo and I had our typical breakfast this morning. I came home and did the crossword puzzle. I breathed — inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. I remained calm. I did not lose my wallet. (No one hid it in my back pocket. No one ruined the line of my pants.)
A little before 1:00, I left the house and hopped in a cab. The cab driver and I had a great conversation. I told him where I was headed and he asked where I was from. He asked if I had lived in Spain before or if my family was Spanish because he could tell I wasn’t native but — drumroll, please — “…your accent is perfect”!!! I laughed. I thanked him. I told him a bit of my history and I then said my Spanish was still not good enough to keep up with many people, especially the people at the Foreigners Office. He said, “That’s because they’re Sevillanos and you speak proper Spanish!” We continued our conversation on the 5-minute ride over and by the end he had a much better idea of how limited my Spanish actually is. But, my accent is perfect! (Wait a minute. I wonder if he was from Krakow…)
I arrived at the Plaza de España and got in line outside the door at 1:06. I’ve never stood in line for long when I’ve been there (unless I’ve arrived before the office has opened for the day or re-opened after siesta). The short line moved very slowly today. At 1:30, the guard announced that if you needed to talk to someone at the information desk (i.e., if you didn’t yet know what the hell you were supposed to do), you needed to go home and come back tomorrow. “No more information,” he called out. The line quickly drained. I went from being somewhere around ninth to being second.
|NOT A BAD VIEW OF THE PLAZA DE ESPAÑA WHILE I WAITED.
GRAB THAT KID BY THE SEAT OF HIS PANTS BEFORE HE MAKES IT ACROSS THE BORDER!
(DON’T WORRY. IT’S NOT REALLY THE BORDER.)
However, once the line cleared, people began coming from the other direction (from out of nowhere really), asking the guard a question and being directed to walk right in. So, I stepped out of my number 2 spot and told him I was there to pick up my approved re-entry form. He sent me right inside. I wonder if I could have done that in the first place. That’s never been “the process” before, but that doesn’t prove anything. (We’ve never been able to figure out “the process.”) Once inside, I saw Nice-Guy-From-Last-Week sitting at one of the information-desks-that-was-no-longer-an-information-desk. La Rubia was nowhere in sight! I smiled warmly and said, “Hola.” Nice Guy clearly recognized me and did the same. I told him why I was there. He said, “Of course,” pulled open the lower drawer in the desk, pulled out a folder, checked my name on the form I held in my hand, and gave me my signed and stamped, official “return” document. He said I simply need to keep it with my passport when I travel. Unfortunately, since it was after 1:30 and I wasn’t allowed to ask for information, I’ll have to go back some other time to see if they can track down our residency card renewals. But at least I can now look forward to visiting The Dowager Duchess and The Kid Brother.
|LEAVING THE PLAZA DE ESPAÑA BEHIND ONE MORE TIME. (A COOL 33C/91F AT THE FOUNTAIN).
ANOTHER UPLIFTING WALK HOME THROUGH SEVILLA.