After more than 12 hours of straight travel, I finally returned to Nicaragua, the land of gallo pinto and Flor de Caña rum! (Gallo pinto, by the way, is this lovely rice and beans dish you see above. When you are a vegetarian, it is breakfast, lunch, and dinner.) I managed to pass through 3 separate cities on my way back here, since the flight from San José to Managua was cancelled and I had to take a different one to San Salvador and change planes to get to Managua. BUT- my backpack arrived just as promised (incredible) and I found a great room in Guest House Santos, where I had my own bathroom AND a TV!
Wednesday morning I set out to collect all the necessary documents to apply for residency so I can work legally. First, I went to a hospital to find out where I could obtain a certificate of health. They sent me to a Centro de Salud, where the man told me I need a receipt from BanPro for 70 córdobas ($3.50) in order to get the certificate. I had no idea what the bank had to do with my health certification, and I must have looked confused enough that he took pity on me and started the process without the ¨BanPro¨ paper. I hadn´t brought the papers stating that I had been vaccinated (this part was entirely my fault), but apparently they take your word for it, because after an hour and a half of waiting for someone to come back from lunch, they handed me a certificate stating that I have no communicable or mental disease, and that I am considered to be in good health. This whole process seemed a little too easy, since it only took the morning to get the certificate, but I took advantage of it and quickly left with my paper!
I took a break for lunch, and found a buffet place that had REAL salad and NO gallo pinto. This seemed to be my lucky day. After lunch I went to the police station to try my luck at requesting a criminal record, which I need to bring to Immigration in order to get residency. Outside the police station, there was a mob of people standing in front of the door, on which there was a sign reading, ¨abierto¨. It did not, however, appear to be ¨abierto¨, since everyone was OUTSIDE. A woman in ¨line¨ told me we had to wait outside and the captain would take in a certain number of people at a time. I waited, with the rest of the sweaty people, in the 90 degree heat. Finally, the captain appeared and I went inside and told him I needed to request a record. He asked me for my paper. When I asked him which paper he was referring to, he told me...the receipt from BanPro! Ok, so apparently everything you do in this fucking place requires a piece of paper from BanPro. I told him I would go get it immediately and bring it back, but the police station was closing in 15 minutes, so obtaining the receipt and making it back in time didn´t seem too likely.
I went outside to look for the infamous BanPro, and asked 4 police (who looked to be about 20 years old) sitting in their truck where it was. One of them gave me a mediocre explanation in broken english: ¨Down here, to right, 5 or 6 block.¨ I thanked them and started walking ¨down here¨, but then I heard ¨hey you!¨ and the police offered to give me a ride there; Nicaraguan men are so helpful! :-) BanPro went fairly smoothly and I managed to get the incredibly important receipt, which states that I paid 30 córdobas. I was sick of paying a whole $1.25 for cab rides around the city, so I tried my luck with the city buses- always a treat. I managed to find my way back to somewhere fairly close to my hotel, and only had to walk for about 20 minutes to get back.
This was more than enough fun for one day, so I enjoyed the internet access across the street, and the TV in my room where I watched old episodes of ¨Alf¨ dubbed into spanish. I really couldn´t have asked for more.
The following day was the most fun, and by fun I mean torturous and endlessly beaurocratic. I checked my email in the morning and found a message from the guy at the Language School saying that he needs me on Saturday, and that if I didn´t get the residency stuff set, he would give me a ride to Managua the following week. So I checked out of my room and went to quickly drop off the BanPro receipt at the central police station of Managua. You may have noticed the humor in this line, because you should NEVER, EVER say ¨quickly¨ and ¨Managua¨ in the same sentence.
I arrived at the station to find the same mob of people standing outside, and this time there was a mob inside too, but at least it was air-conditioned in there. Between the outside and inside mobs, I counted about 50 people. I went inside to try to give the paper to someone. A lady at a desk told me I need my cédula. This is an ID card, not a ¨cellular¨ as I thought she was saying. I told her I don´t have a Nicaraguan ID, as I am not yet a resident, but I do have my passport. She said this would be fine, made a copy of it, and told me to go back outside to wait. Confused as to what exactly I was waiting for, I did as I was told. When the captain poked his head out of the door, I went up to him and told him that I had been there yesterday, and that I had come back with my receipt and just needed to drop it off. I showed him my passport copy and the receipt, and he told me to wait in line to talk to another lady. Ok. Outside for an hour and a half, our group was finally let inside where I was given a number (51!) and told I could sit down and wait. Wow, I can sit down?! Thanks!
While I was waiting in my seat, I was harassed by a middle-aged guy who lives in California, but is from Nicaragua, and comes to visit his family once a year. He was eager to practice his english, and I learned all about his interests (¨Jessica, I like to make a lot of sport. As habit. Tennis, running, basketball, I invite you! You like tennis?...and I like Edgar Allen Poe. You know Mark Twain? Huckleberry Finn? I like very much.¨), his travels (¨I have been to all Europe- France, Italy, Spain, Austria. You like theater? In Austria it´s so nice.¨) and his family (¨This is a picture of my sister´s husband and the baby. I like someday get married. You?¨), and then showed me photos on his phone of his sister´s family and their trip to Disneyland. Fascinating. It helped kill the next hour of waiting.
When they called my number, I went to see the lady at the desk. There was apparently one woman for this job, whatever it was. I showed her my passport copy and BanPro paper and she told me...ready?...¨no, you need a cédula. I can´t request the criminal record with a passport. You need ID from Nicaragua¨. I told her I could not GET an ID from Nicaragua until I had the criminal record which I was TRYING to get right now! This was the first of several Nicaraguan catch-22s, whose irony seemed to be noticed only by me. I was sent to a different police station to apply for this damn cédula.
At the next station, I was prepared for the worst. Waiting, sweating, utter despair, the works. I told the woman at the desk why I had come, and gave her my passport. She wrote something down and made a phone call. After she talked for a minute or so, she handed me the phone. The guy on the other end told me that I was not going to be able to get a criminal record because it cannot be requested from here. It needs to be requested from the US. I asked him what that meant I had to do, and he told me I would need to go back to the states, just to request a criminal record. Logical. I argued with them about the silliness of this requirement, and they sent me to another building to talk to the Interpol guy. I thought that the job of Interpol was to be able to obtain information of this kind (records) internationally, but this guy handed me a paper stating that I need to send a written request to the FBI! This request should include name, date of birth, request for record, $18, and fingerprints. The man could not tell me where the hell I was supposed to get fingerprints done, so I thanked him (see? I´m still gracious!) and left.
I decided to get the hell out of Managua and worry about this all next week. I´m now happily in León, where I will stay, and I teach my first english class tomorrow!
Just one more thing: I BEG of you, citizens of the United States, APPRECIATE your customer service. UTILIZE and LOVE when employees open a new cash register because there is a long line for the others. When people give you accurate information, give them a hug! And never underestimate the beauty of never having to go to BanPro.
