A Mile in My Shoes (Chapter XI)
XI
Puma attempted to wait patiently with his thought process in high gear and his anger aroused. About ten minutes later Sr. Sánchez opened the door for another man, this one appearing older and more North American than the former.
“Hola, Sr. Vilca. Me llamo Jorge Santos. The Plexiglas made the man seem distant and uninviting.
“Sr. Sánchez explained to me your situation. He also explained the importance to you of the financial documents that are needed, correct?”
“Sí, and I have the money. I am only asking to return in a day or two instead of rescheduling an appointment months down the road.”
“In all honesty it usually takes a few months’ worth of bank statements to be approved. The government wants to make sure you did not suddenly come into money and want to leave the country. Do you understand? Besides this document, you seem to make a decent living as a tour guide, but with that type of job, seasonal and with tips I mean, there is no guarantee of a visa.”
“How can you say that? I deserve a visa as much as anyone else in this country, posibly más. I have worked all my life since I was a very young man. I have always supported mi familia and never taken any help from the government. I know the rich history of our land. I love her and I respect her more than most men.”
“Mira, the best we can do is put you on a waiting list. If someone cancels, we can call you and perhaps use the appointment time. Again, I cannot guarantee anything.”
“Why? I cannot understand why North Americans can travel so freely to our country and stay for as long as they please. Yes, they stay. They buy land and homes and businesses. No repercussions from our government, in fact, some get accolades and tax cuts.
And me, I have tried for many years to visit the U.S., not to live, because I would not want to live there, but to travel, to see such beautiful places such as the Grand Canyon, the Indian Reservations of the West and Graceland in Memphis. I have no intention of staying. My children are here, hopefully soon to give me grandchildren. My life is here. I am Peruvian.
Many people tell me mine is a fool’s dream. Why, they say, do you want to travel to a place where they do not want you? And perhaps that’s exactly the point. It may have begun as a dream, wanting to see the places my father talked and told stories about, a place where he bought music that everyone wanted to hear. But now, now it’s about a man being able to see the world. A man who does not believe in borders, a man who does not believe the Earth should belong to so few while the many are regulated to second-class citizens, prisoners in our own land. Please…”
The two government workers stood for a moment gazing at Puma and then briefly looked at each other.
“Well Sr. Vilca, here’s what we are going to do…”
Thank you for reading A MILE IN MY SHOES. The complete story is available on MEDIUM. To purchase the entire digital edition visit:
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Born in California but raised in the Memphis- Northern Mississippi area and through numerous travels across the world, Joshua Savage has gained a unique perspective on human nature. This is obvious in his thought provoking literature. He has written a number of short stories, two novels, and with inspiration from his daughters, a few children’s books. He teaches, explores, and enjoys life.
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