Ahí nada más

The most common response I got when I told friends and co-workers here in Tactic that I was taking a trip to France was, “¡Ahí nada más!” (It means something to the effect of, “Oh, just to France!”) People were amazed that I could just hop on a plane to go to Europe for a wedding, because Guatemalans can’t do that.

For an American there are few countries in the world that are difficult to visit. I’ve traveled to some two dozen countries and never once had to worry whether I’d be permitted to enter. For some countries I had to pay to get a visa, but the process consisted of simply turning in my passport with an extra 2x2 photo, and there was never a question as to if it would be granted. When I decided to go to France, I didn’t check on visa requirements or collect documents to prove my financial soundness; I just bought a plane ticket. An American passport is like a VIP card.

But it’s not so easy for Guatemalans. For most Guatemalans the world is closed off and inaccessible not only due to a lack of resources but for the fact that securing a visa to developed countries, namely the US, is extremely difficult. The United States is this sort of Never Never Land whose overwhelming culture permeates the everyday lives of Guatemalans who, ironically, will never never be able to travel to there. It is this stringent process that makes it so difficult:

A Guatemalan wanting to visit the United States as a tourist first has to go to one of two bank branches to purchase a PIN that costs nearly Q100. With that PIN he has to call an 800 number to schedule a visa interview at the US embassy in the capital. (You cannot call directly to the embassy to schedule this appointment.) The earliest date for which that interview can be scheduled is usually after a wait of 16-20 days.

Then the hopeful Guatemalan must go to Citi Bank and pay an application fee of $131. (This payment is required just to have the chance to get a visa.) He will get a receipt with his name that must be presented at the visa interview.

Now that the Guatemalan has his interview scheduled and his payment receipt, he must get all of his paperwork in order. He must fill out the DS-156 electronic visa application online, print it, and bring it to the interview. And because our Guatemalan is a male, he also has to fill out and bring the DS-157 form. Besides requiring a ton of personal information, the forms have fun questions like these (all were actually under one bullet point):

“Do you seek to enter the United States to engage in export control violations, subversive or terrorist activities, or any other unlawful purpose? Are you a member or representative of a terrorist organization as currently designated by the U.S. Secretary of State? Have you ever participated in persecutions directed by the Nazi government of Germany; or have you ever participated in genocide?”

(Has anyone ever actually checked yes to this? “Oh, I was in the clear until it came to the genocide question.”)

Besides the application forms our Chapin must also bring as much documentation as possible showing his ties to Guatemala. Bank statements, property, house, or car titles, and business or salary information all serve to prove that he will indeed return home instead of stay in the US.

After all this time, effort, and cost, our expectant Guatemalan shows up on time (he can’t be late or his appointment will be canceled) to his visa interview at the embassy where a consulate officer will decide his fate—denied or approved.

I imagine I would be traveling a lot less if I had to jump through this many hoops to enter other countries. But fortunately I don’t have to worry about hoops because I am an American.