Jan 11 – For the lack on an entry permit – Ottawa

On Friday I was told I would soon become a Canadian citizen. Today I got a phone call telling me that I do not qualify for a visa to Kenya. One welcoming message and one not so… I am glad I am not basing my self-esteem on visa policies; otherwise I would be in a mental health recovery clinic right now. My first visa rejection came at age 8 when my aunt and uncle wanted to take me to Disney World. It was all overcome at age 12 when I was able to meet Mickey Mouse with a group of other Colombian kids my age. My next big hiccup came in 2000 when my Opera Prima was released in Spain and I traveled from New York City to Madrid via Lisbon. The travel agent reassured me it was just a transit. For the Europeans it was a port of entry and I soon faced deportation. “I just want to get to Spain” I kept repeating “I have no interest in Portugal”. Well, their best solution was to send me to Switzerland, to enter Madrid through Zurich, a non- European Union city. I was late but I made it. And I liked Spain so much that I went back to live in there soon after. One fine day my friend E and I decided to visit the City of Light. We bought coach train seats to Paris and prepared ourselves to sleep. Everything went well until we crossed the border with France. Soon after we were waken up abruptly and escorted out of the train, through our sleepy shame. They asked us for the names of “Mon Pere et Ma Mere” (still don’t know why) and then drove over to Spain, where they just “welcomed us back” and asked us to leave the station and find our ways. Two in the morning, cold late spring in northern Spain… San Sebastian was a closed city that could hardly greet us. The only place to stay away from the winds of humiliation, a phone booth.

My very last two bitter entry experiences happened in the Tanzanian border last summer and in Seoul, South Korea this past November. One was more negative than the other. But I won’t tell it all, because it’s time for bed and the Kenyan chapter is not yet finalized.

My book of the day, the Bell Jar should be followed by the movie, Sylvia. Gwyneth Paltrow incarnates this American confessional poet of "undeniable" talent.

Tip of the day: visa denials are not personal rejections but glitches in foreign policy standards.

Share