Let me tell you how my Uncle saved my bacon. Okay, it was Sergio's bacon, but when his bacon is on the line, so is mine.
Sergio is a Colombian born US citizen. With a newly acquired US passport in hand he felt unstoppable! So, naturally, on his first trip outside the US, he was immediately stopped.
Let's back up further. Before we even left home, we heard rumor that the country of Colombia says
once born Colombian, always Colombian! and therefore requires even those with dual citizenship to carry a Colombian passport. This is Sergio. A dual citizen with one valid US Passport and one expired Colombian passport. Oops. After a failed attempt to reach the Colombian embassy in Miami we decided
eeehhhhh we'll just go get on the plane and see what happens.
Normally, Sergio is a calm and self-assured man. I've known him for nearly ten years now and never have I seen him more nervous than on this flight. His leg was shaking, he was tapping his fingers, biting his nails, just sweating bullets. Then he started talking through all the "what ifs" that come from travelling with invalid documentation. What if they don't let him in the country? Will they send him home? Will they arrest him? Will they send him somewhere else? I tried my best to reassure him. I promised I'd be with him the whole way and if they wanted to detain him, then I'd be right there in the holding cell with him. Luckily, I pointed out, we are both US citizens now and the BEST perk of being a US citizen is that no matter where in the world you are, the USA is on your side. They WILL come save you. From ANY holding cell anywhere. 'MERICA.
Inevitably, the plane landed. We deplaned. We got in line at customs. Obstacle #1: which line to choose? The line for Colombian citizens or the line for everyone else? We stuck to our guns, got in line with the visitors (the shorter line) and prepped our US passports.
When our time came, we approached the counter together. We both presented our US passports to the Spanish speaking customs agent. He asked the usual questions about the purpose and length of our visit and stamped and returned my passport relatively quickly. All seemed to be going well while he reviewed Sergio's passport too, and just when he had the stamp in his free hand he suddenly spotted the one give away in our plan: the place of birth line. It was clear as day: "Colombia".
"Where is your Colombian passport?" The customs agent asked pointing to this line in the front page.
"O right here," Sergio played it cool and brought out his expired Colombian passport.
"You must always have this with you!" the customs agent acted agitated and really drove home his point. He reviewed the Colombian passport as well. Everything seemed to fine, and again his hand hovered over the stamp. We both stared at that stamp like a dog watches table scraps just inches from falling off the plate. We were eager to skate by, but of course, that would not happen.
"This is expired!" the passport agent was exasperated. Who could be so dumb to present an expired passport? Sergio acted surprised and confessed that he did not have another passport. Well, that agent let him have it. "You can get in, but you won't get out with this passport! They won't let you out!" He explained that Sergio would need a new passport before exiting the country. It was
easy he claimed! It'll take just a day!
Right.
We found my uncle waiting for us outside the baggage claim (and final inspection). Naturally, he asked about our plans while in Cartagena, so we told him that our sight seeing MUST include the passport office. We related the happenings at customs and my uncle was mortified. That will take all week! Immediately, he got on the phone. Before we even arrived home, he made arrangements with one of his employees to go to the passport office tomorrow morning to wait in line for us.
Yep. You read that correctly. He actually got someone else to stand in line at a government office for us. Who does that?? What. a. BAMF.
So first thing the next morning we got out early, headed over to the passport office before it opened only to find a crowd of people already lined up outside. I'm talking Disneyland zig zag lines that don't move, not geometric straight lines. And there he was! Our guy! Right up front!! We passed by everyone else, excitedly waving at our man outside the door. What a time saver!
We reached him, said hello, shook his hand and thanked him profusely. One problem: there are now dozens of angry people in line behind us.
"Hey! Get to the back of the line!" "No fair!" "We were here first!"
People just started yelling, and pointing and shaking fists at us. O boy. The guard at the door stood fast. It was day one in Colombia and we already had started a small riot outside a government building.
Then, our man started yelling back! "I was waiting for him! It's just him! He is the only one who needs a service! She is nobody!" He stood with us until the doors opened and guided us through the process. It turns out that my uncle had very recently renewed his passport as well and this man helped him at that time. So he knew just who to call when we needed something done quickly!
It only took us a couple of hours to make our way through the windows, take a picture, fill out paperwork and beg for quick results. "Come back next Monday" the last lady said. No no no no no no. We fly out Sunday! She put a star on the corner of the application and placed it in the pile with all the others. "That will make it go faster."
Suurreee...
Friday morning rolled around and again we were there bright and early. If anything went wrong with this passport we would have the next eight hours to get it done before they close for the weekend. "If you need anything done" my uncle advised, "just give them a little extra money."
Wait. Like a bribe?
Luckily we got there and there was no need for that! The guard that watched us as we started a lynch mob on day one was there again and recognized us immediately. As it turns out, he was a really nice guy! We explained everything to him and he said, "Go to that lady" as he pointed out the exact woman who was holding the final product. One brand new Colombian passport. The guard gave us a big smile and Sergio a hardy handshake.
It was ready! Hallelujah!!
No waiting, no re-dos, no bribing or begging. We just got the job done. Thanks, in large part, to my Uncle and his ever loyal employees. They saved us so much time that was much better spent doing amazing things in a wondrous city!
 |
At the Castillo San Felipe de Barajas
(right down the street from the passport office) |
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