In a well-ordered universe, I would be in Manzanillo this morning. And my FM3 would be well on its way to renewal.
But I do not live in a well-ordered universe.
For those of you who may not remember, my FM3 (or, as it is now known: Prórroga de No Inmigrantes) is my visa. The permission granted by the government of Mexico for me to stick around for an additional year. And it is time for me once again to go hat in hand and ask permission to stay for another year.
The process for renewing visas has improved greatly since I came to Mexico.
When I first renewed my visa, I needed to bring the original and copies of my passport, my FM3 booklet, a utility bill in my name with my address (or a constancia de domicilio -- a document issued by the local government showing my address), my rental agreement, a copy of my landlady's voter ID card, three months of bank statements showing a monthly income adequate to keep me off of the Mexican welfare rolls, portrait photographs, a letter explaining why I wanted to live in Mexico, a completed paper form that asked questions only a bureaucrat could appreciate, and a fistful of pesos for the annual renewal fee.
And each year that list mutated based on either regulations or whim. It did not matter. I merely jumped through the hoops like a good no inmigrante and coughed up whatever was requested.
Last year reform hit the process. One of President Calderon's goals was to make Mexican government more efficient. And his reforms in the visa process seemed to be working quite well.
When I renewed last year, I filled out a streamlined application online. Printed it off. Signed it. With that signature, the need for the plea letter vanished.
I then took the form (within the 30 day window for renewal) to Manzanillo along with my utility bill (to prove residency), my old FM3 booklet (to be exchanged for a new card), and my passport. That was all I needed.
Gone were the financial documents (at least, until my 5 year renewal point) and the rest of the pesky document requirements. Needless to say, I still needed that fistful of pesos.
Earlier this month, while planning my next trip, I realized my FM3 would expire just after I leave. But that was no problem. It would still give me over three weeks to get a new visa card in hand.
Or so I thought. The first day I could renew day was Saturday. I tried going online to fill out the form. But it informed me I was too early. So, I tried again this morning. Same message.
No problem. I would merely drive to Manzanillo to start the process in person. After all, I had everything else ready to go.
It then occurred to me. This is a Mexican holiday. A huge Mexican holiday. The birthday of Benito Juárez. The queso grande. The equivalent of Washington, Lincoln, FDR, and Reagan. All rolled into one.
There would be no going to Manzanillo today. But there is always mañana. And mañana it shall be.
And I will be back to a semi-ordered universe. Perhaps, with a renewed FM3.
But I do not live in a well-ordered universe.
For those of you who may not remember, my FM3 (or, as it is now known: Prórroga de No Inmigrantes) is my visa. The permission granted by the government of Mexico for me to stick around for an additional year. And it is time for me once again to go hat in hand and ask permission to stay for another year.
The process for renewing visas has improved greatly since I came to Mexico.
When I first renewed my visa, I needed to bring the original and copies of my passport, my FM3 booklet, a utility bill in my name with my address (or a constancia de domicilio -- a document issued by the local government showing my address), my rental agreement, a copy of my landlady's voter ID card, three months of bank statements showing a monthly income adequate to keep me off of the Mexican welfare rolls, portrait photographs, a letter explaining why I wanted to live in Mexico, a completed paper form that asked questions only a bureaucrat could appreciate, and a fistful of pesos for the annual renewal fee.
And each year that list mutated based on either regulations or whim. It did not matter. I merely jumped through the hoops like a good no inmigrante and coughed up whatever was requested.
Last year reform hit the process. One of President Calderon's goals was to make Mexican government more efficient. And his reforms in the visa process seemed to be working quite well.
When I renewed last year, I filled out a streamlined application online. Printed it off. Signed it. With that signature, the need for the plea letter vanished.
I then took the form (within the 30 day window for renewal) to Manzanillo along with my utility bill (to prove residency), my old FM3 booklet (to be exchanged for a new card), and my passport. That was all I needed.
Gone were the financial documents (at least, until my 5 year renewal point) and the rest of the pesky document requirements. Needless to say, I still needed that fistful of pesos.
Earlier this month, while planning my next trip, I realized my FM3 would expire just after I leave. But that was no problem. It would still give me over three weeks to get a new visa card in hand.
Or so I thought. The first day I could renew day was Saturday. I tried going online to fill out the form. But it informed me I was too early. So, I tried again this morning. Same message.
No problem. I would merely drive to Manzanillo to start the process in person. After all, I had everything else ready to go.
It then occurred to me. This is a Mexican holiday. A huge Mexican holiday. The birthday of Benito Juárez. The queso grande. The equivalent of Washington, Lincoln, FDR, and Reagan. All rolled into one.
There would be no going to Manzanillo today. But there is always mañana. And mañana it shall be.
And I will be back to a semi-ordered universe. Perhaps, with a renewed FM3.
