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All you would expect to read an email full of enthusiasm and joy, in which maybe I'll tell you how was my trip, my first impressions of the much dreamed of SF, what are the first people I met ...
But no. Unfortunately none of this. I can only say that I am writing this mail from my home by Crodo, Piedmont, Italy. And I can only tell how I have spent the past three days that I hope soon to forget. Do not worry, I'm fine, just a little 'sleepy disbelief and shocked to get it done in three days round trip from America. I arrived home last night, physically destroyed for not having eaten or slept for two days and mentally confused, sad, empty-handed, with a dream that I was robbed too fast and too unfairly.
I hope one day to discuss it in a more relaxed, maybe laugh about it. When I can play down. I know, is not the end of the world, it gets worse I'm aware of, but all of you (and some in particular) know what it meant to me this trip.
I arrived at 14 local time on Wednesday, September 3rd to SF. After several 'practical', I find myself immigration office security. A waiting room with many people waiting for their turn to get the OK let's say, to leave the airport. They check my visa and start asking me questions about what I intend to stay in the U.S. and motivation. Will my English was not too perfect to arouse suspicion and insecurity in my answer a few questions. First, crowding me asking if I had with me my certificate of graduation (after I said I was a graduate. But I think that I bring my parchment in America? Bo ...) and telling me that I had the money to the account current is not enough to live six months in America. I respond by saying that the intention is to stay with relatives in SF, and then I should not pay for accommodation or anything of that kind and in any case, my parents would be willing to help me financially. Below are questions about my American relatives: to what degree? how old? date of birth? work? etc.. Answer some with a little 'of insecurity (I was not informed of the date of birth of my cousin and when I say "teacher" to the question on the use working teacher ask me what. Alas, I did not know). Call me naive or naive or whatever you want, but honestly I did not think questions like this in detail. I also had a letter from my cousin stating their family ties and the fact that I stayed with her, but the letter was in the suitcase that I had embarked. And in all this I forgot to tell you that my suitcase is lost. She had never been on your flight London - SF and probably remained in London. If it is not bad luck that I do not know what to call it.
At this point, I do sit down. After a while, 'call me, and I am nothing short of stunned when I have the eyes of some e-mail that I and my American relatives we had written in recent months. I swear, I immediately thought that it was not technically possible. How do they get it? I do not know even now. I thought that these things only happened in movies, but America is a movie, maybe that's all just like in a movie. In some e-mail there was an exchange of dialogue between me and my cousin in which he spoke of the possibility of eventually finding a job under the table (in black) as a babysitter or as a waitress in order to maintain the residence and not to burden completely on my account, my parents or my American relatives in terms of accommodation. With the I had seen, tourist, I knew that I could not work. But who does not? Those who have never worked in black to earn something for a living? Will I was too naive, I do not know, tell me about you, but I swear I did not think like an interrogation. And I did not know for certain that they would find my email. Where is privacy? Still exist? Or are we just machines, numbers, and also control how many times we go to the bathroom in one day ?????? A
everything one thousand practices are followed, I like living in a movie I swear: fingerprints of all ten fingers, as you can see their photos in the film (with a white background and black horizontal lines like the prisoners), statement under oath of all what had happened, or was it a federal crime. They also made photocopies of some pages of my personal address book, after putting my bag upside down. Prevented me from making a phone call to my parents or a cousin of mine, to hold the phone with me to see my cousin who had come to take me to the airport and I found out after being out there waiting for up to 20 pm . Worse than a monster, I wondered "What the hell did I do? Manco had killed someone." I had no words, thoughts, nothing. Only the tears kept me company.
from 14 in the afternoon all the practice is over at 23.30. With the conclusion that I was not allowed to enter the U.S., since denied, and a return flight booked for 16:30 the next day. Not even a sorry or how are you. Nothing. I thought that at least for the night I could stay in a hotel room or go to my relatives. I thought. I stayed there in the waiting room all night and all morning, when I finally could at least talk on the phone with my American relatives (with the front man telling me how many minutes I still remained available to speak). I said if I could call my mom, they said "later". But after that I have yet to see it. Finally there's the 16 in the afternoon and I board the flight to London.
Mille practices and even phone calls to find my suitcase had been lost. A SF tell me that I would have withdrawn in London. In London, they know nothing, I made the complaint and look again now. It should arrive in the coming days, I hope. Or maybe I have seized on the sly to see if I had some spare man in a plastic bag or a few kilos of cocaine (I wanted to play down a bit'...)!
get home last night at 20, after a flight to London - AC Milan had also delayed.
destroyed. Perhaps this is the word that encompasses a bit 'all over my state, both physically and mentally. Destroyed physically, from 24 hours of total flight time in less than three days and the hours that I was practically sitting without closing an eye. Destroyed because I had built this project with such dedication, to the smallest detail and many sacrifices (some of you know well), two works in Milan to gain some 'more and set aside the money, "but no Laura, do not buy that jeans that costs too much," "save, save, me are dismissed from work for a living this experience, all for a purpose, a goal, a dream that has lasted for months and months and then be destroyed in less than a day. What the hell's the point? Tell me you, because I think it is not right, sure I did something wrong with trying to work illegally, they are right about this. But what's right in this world? E 'right to monitor and read your e-mail private? It 'just that forbids me to call my mom did not sleep all night knowing what was happening to me (since it has been advised by my American cousin)? E 'right to make photocopies of my private calendar? I do not feel right. I do not feel right shit. What sense does it make plans, then if there is someone ready to destroy?
can not tell you how I feel, last night I slept so much, I rested, but surely my mood is not the best. Just one question: what do I do now? I am confused, very much. I do not want to think about anything at this time. I do not like the victim, I will not be compatible or something. I will overcome this too, as I have always exceeded all the rest. And then I know what's worse, much worse. And 'that whenever I have something in her hands me someone takes it away, is not the first time.
Having also lived this ugly adventure will help me, I look on the bright side, and I find I'm sure. They are fatalistic as many know, and then had to go exactly like that, I hope to find out why soon. As I hope to return soon to the Laura you all know.
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