Emi-gration
Once again, I am in the middle of it. An emigration process.
(I wrote this post at the end of February)
I don't know why, but it affects me deeply. Waiting for approval, a proof of registration, of “residence”, officially approved.
And again, this has to go through the police. Apply for your NIE number? At the immigration police in Granada. Apply for your Padron? The local police first has to visit you at your new address.
It throws me back to my emigration to the US. The long process started with filling in forms with all possible personal data. And then, more than half a year of nothing, of silence.
Until finally another step could be taken.
But then there were suddenly invasive actions that had to be taken physically: getting vaccinations again (I always faint from that), going to Amsterdam to have a lung X-ray and a blood test.
And then I wasn't there yet. They wanted every proof of my relationship, every proof of my existence, every proof of my good behaviour. An avalange of questions, a list where you had to specify what race you are (really? Yes, really, with colour and everything!).
And then the eternal wait for permission.
Again, I feel the fear of not being liked by an authority, not good enough to be allowed to stay. By an authority looking for reasons not to let you in. (And he who searches will always find something, right?).
It just might be.
It could also just be that it is my own energy, not daring to claim a place on this earth, not expecting that there is a place on this globe where I may just, officially, legally, BE.
Isn't that a familiar feeling of humanity? How many peoples are there who do not feel at home here, who do not feel accepted, who are seen as unwanted?
Just because they go in search of what they see as a better life, leaving behind what they know, only to encounter something that doesn't want them?
Or not being allowed to be where they have lived for centuries and centuries because someone else wants what they have, for money, for status, for faith?
The pain of colonisation, slavery or outright genocide is in our DNA.
Whereas the earth should belong to all of us. Every human, animal, creature, should be entitled to their little piece of security, shouldn't they?
Why can't we allow that, why isn't every human being allowed to be where they choose to be? Why would we rather fight each other over a small piece of earth, bomb it flat, instead of creating something beautiful there together?
I don't have the answer. Chances are I'll never find it either. Man is a complex being, the reasons for acting often obscure.
But I know that my process makes me pure, sensitive and vulnerable. That because of it, however small my problem, I feel more connected to much of our humanity, from the past, in the present, but I hope not with those in the future. Simply, because one day we decide we are all allowed to BE.
So when I finally get my certificate of registration at the town hall, I can breathe a sigh of relief. Off to Madrid, for my passport.... Another huge paperwork that is not even free (to say the least)!
Love,
Daphne