Sometime in the fall after I graduated from college, I heard about a fellow Smith grad and acquaintance of mine, who kinda did a pretty bonehead thing and got herself deported and banned from a country for like...life. Now, at the time it was kind of amusing. I mean, not funny ha-ha amusing, but like funny "What the fuck?!" The story circulated among a bunch of people and died down not too long after. As far as I know, she's fine now...she found me on Facebook.
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26-year-old Raven no longer finds the tale as amusing as she once did. And why's that? Well, for one thing, I was this close to being deported from a country myself. I don't mean like, "Maybe-deportation-is-a-kind-of-thing-that-could-happen" close...I mean like, "I-came-home -one-day-to-a-letter-with-an-actual-proposed-date-for-deportation" close. I have this letter still and can show it to you upon request, if need be. The worst part was that I got all caught up in the system and because of this, this proposed deportation date kept being pushed back to around the 30th of each following month.
It began at the end of November 2006...and ended, well...you know...last month.
That's half a year, folks. Half a year of narrowly avoiding having my mulatto ass kicked out of Germany.
To understate it, it was a teensy bit scary as fuck.
Remember when I said what the worst part was? I lied. The worst part was constantly thinking in the back of my mind, "What the hell am I going to tell people?" Because seriously, the whole thing kind of just makes you feel like an ass. And to make this worst part even worser...I wouldn't even come away from the ordeal with a good story. So, not only would I have to tell people that I got deported, but when they asked why...I'd have to tell them, "Um, because of some lame ass bullshit?" I mean, the story is definitely long. And complicated. And totally fucked up in pretty much every way. But interesting?! Not so much.
My oldest brother nearly got deported from the States. If he'd gotten sent back to Trinidad, at least he would have been able to say, "Uhm...'cause I was selling drugs, duh." On top of that, he wouldn't have to pay any more child support for all his illegitimate children back in Oklahoma. So, he'd look pretty gangsta and he'd save a bit of money.
Anyway, you all know how the story ended and, thankfully, it didn't come down to me being deported.
In a strange turn of events, my lawyer sent me a letter from The Public Authority Responsible for Aliens. It's basically my proof for the time being that I'm legally allowed to live and work in Germany -- until the process is completely and officially...complete. Because it's not. Don't ask why.
Now, get this...
in this letter, it states that I can't leave Germany until the process is complete, which will be sometime between now and the end of September. I mean I COULD leave Germany at any time I want, but if I did then all the shit I've been through up until now -- null and void. So, basically, I can't leave Germany (for now).
I picked up the letter yesterday and read it at a restaurant where I was having dinner with a bunch of my peeps. Looking over the words, I couldn't help but think back to the movie Army of Darkness. You know, this part (the first 40 seconds at any rate):
So, which is it Germany? Do you wanna kill me or kiss me?
I think you know what I'm gonna say next...
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