Posts Tagged ‘Fuck’

Read this as if it didn’t happen this morning. Read this as if it didn’t happen to you, or me. Or, read it as it is written. Your choice. I just wish it didn’t happen.

Yet it didn’t take too much time for things to heat up in my world ( you know what I mean).  The right wins, because they own the left in America. Crypto-fascists cannot be trusted. I will write more on that when myhead is more clear.

Do you believe in coincidence? I don’t.

united states currency eye- IMG_7364_web

They are everywhere. And watching. Listening, but not hearing; looking without seeing. And don't even think they have feelings--they don't.

But two people that came here to live the American dream, who ‘rode across’ in gasoline tanks, and walked across deserts, and mountains with a liter of water and worn out shoes–people who came,  and worked hard, and  lived nearly free in a foreign country are no longer amongst the ‘free’ in the ‘land of the free’.

They are at INS-ICE lockup, down  in […]. I can’t tell you the all the details of how they actually get here,  as I  do not want  to add to their misery with more useless ‘facts,’ which are always ‘ammunition’ for right wingers, crypto-fascists and ‘officials’ of government.

This morning at8:30 a.m. I got a call–the INS had come to round up a few “illegals” who were living in […].

My caretaker says ”  They wanted to know if […] and […] live here.”

I said “Don’t open the door. They can’t come in without a warrant.”

He said ” It’s too late. They had some serious looking papers. They came earlier, and your phone was turned off. They took […] and […] and they even asked me for papers. But they were here specifically for those two. They had pictures, and some papers.”

I said “But they can’t do that–she is here seeking asylum! She filed papers and …,” and I stewed about how ignorant people are– of the warrant requirement.

He said “They took her anyways. I don’t know what she was saying because I don’t speak […], but she was crying, and had papers in her hand-and[…] was crying too, and he tried to explain that she was here as an asylum seeker. They left a card and a number for you to call.”

I was outraged. I was pissed–in fact, there are no words to describe what I am feeling now. Flashbacks maybe, or just fucking pissed. And I never imagined […] could cry–he is such a stoic.

For the record, I am not  ‘family’, and I cannot speak with them unless I am their lawyer, advocate or other legally appointed representative.

Both of them are people that I ate with; played volleyball with; shared language, and learning with, and planted flowers with all summer long; and people who i cooked for, who always acted overly polite when offered it  ‘small portions, only  please,’ (!), but who always gave me huge plates of theirs saying ‘”try this. I used to serve it in a restaurant back home -try it”.

And i would eat, and never ask for seconds because it was worth thirds. It was THAT good.

“Did you get any paperwork at all?”

“No,” he says, ” It was all so fast…she was cooking breakfast …and…”

“The law says they have to leave paperwork,”  I said, not sure of the law and immigration or myself at that moment. I remembered that they put their names on the mailbox: “he” was giggling, her future husband was teasing “her” about having a home…

Turns out he–my caretaker- let them in–so, no paperwork required. See what happens when everybody doesn’t know the rules…?

I had been trying to drum up money to buy them a restaurant–my thought had been to buy an old house, and start it as a soup and coffee shop. Their idea was far more humble–they only wanted a stand in a market. They could hide easier amongst others in similar situations.

Both of ‘them’ were driven off in ” a big white van” this morning. Name it shame it, tame it–then claim it,  mother fuckers, but this ain’t even started yet, was my first thought.

Time will tell, was my second–and my third thought? Refer to the first thought if time don’t open it’s mouth pretty damn quick.

‘He’ was a fry cook, and ‘she’ was fleeing a country that was recently on the U.S. ‘watch list’ of potential terror ‘supporters’.  She was also a domestic violence victim: her husband told her that he would chop her into pieces and cook her if she ran away.

And when she told me that story, she would laugh, and then, look away nervously, or at her new mate, who, as it turns out […] was her ‘old love’ as well; her lover back home, and itwas he who paid her way here, too. They planned to get married…

So she ran away anyways, against her husbands ‘will’.  ‘Welcome to America,’ I remember telling her with an odd ‘paternal’ happiness–happy that I could provide a home.

She and her would-be-future-brother-in-law will be flown ‘home’ after a hearing or two, I am told, to live once again next to a trembling volcanoe. Her love–the man she ran away to be with, will remain here, because he has the right paperwork.

Or: he or  I can pay for a lawyer, and be told the same thing i was told last time: they can extend it by a year, and then, maybe, she will be able to stay–but, like last time, if experience is any kind of teacher, she will be sent back anyways, and right quick.

But likely, she will be dumped just across the Mexican border, in Juarez, like so many are these days, as the U.S. refuses to accept some forms of paperwork from ‘illegals.’

But fuck you, and anyone who shits on ‘the little people’: capital FUCK, littler you, and anyone who condones this, or pushed for it to happen–team ‘community snitch’ ala the Patriot Act. The problem is, it’s always the ‘wrong’ people getting shipped out of here, and the ‘right’ ones remaining.  And when I say right, I mean–that was really, really wrong.