Are we being punked?
Almost a week ago I discovered my car verification period had expired thanks to a police officer that after the smog situation that only made us more resilient (to those of us who actually made it through), were zombiying around from appointment to appointment praying for blue skies and some rain.
He wanted to exert the law, that was, to take my car away, so before I was about to talk him out of it, I actually obeyed. I told him I had a meeting, so if he wanted to take the car he could do so and started to take stuff out of my car. Along my vehicle, other 5 o 6 cars were parked, all in the same conditions I was. Quick math, that meant not enough car cranes to whisk all of us away.
After a few minutes of carrying my documentation on his hand, in the worst possible tone, he approched me, almost threw them at my face, telling me how this time, I was lucky and let me go. Relieved, the next day I paid the fine at my bank and by Saturday I was happy to take my car to the verification center.
Not so fast my friend. I arrived 15 minutes earlier just to be on the safe side. The officer in charge asked me for an additional paper that you have to take to the bank BEFORE you pay the fine. I said, "I don't have it, I gave it to the guy in the bank".
"Oh, too bad, we need it, said the man.
"Oh but you have it on your system and I have the number in my cell phone too, I can provide it, since this is an ONLINE process", I said as I reached for my purse.
"No, we need it printed", he said.
I looked at him for a few seconds thinking on the absurdity and the ecological impact but before I was about to embark on that green mission and inform him of it, I remembered why I was there and said: "Oh ok, maybe you can print it, and whatever it is, I can pay for it". Then smiled.
"We can't, you have to print it for us", he said.
I frowned. "Is this on the website? Because I don't remember reading about that step", I said.
"Mhmhmh", he hesitated for a bit, "I don't think so, but you have to print it for us, otherwise I'm gonna have to ask you to leave ma'am".
"Ok", I took a long breath, let it out, "Where can I print this, you know?"
"I guess where there's a printer", he said.
For a moment I looked at him. I was trying to figure out if he was being obvious, sarcastic or just seizing his opportunity of petty tyranny.
"Oh sorry", I said, I thought you worked here, my bad".
He looked baffled, "I do work here", he said.
"Oh", I grinned, "I guessed if that were the case, you would be willing and able to help me complete the service you say you provide, then I got confused, but don't worry, I'll be back".
After 3 closed internet shops (on a Sturday), I managed to print the damn paper and went back to the same spot. As I gave him the papers, he grinned, gave them to another lady to complie the information into a computer. She looked at me, then uttered, "I'm sorry", we're not going to be able to verify your car today, ma'am".
I forced a smile. "Excuse me, what?"
"Your payment hasn't gone through", she smiled politely.
"Why?" I asked.
"It usually takes from 24 to 36 hours", she said.
"I'm sorry" I asked, "is that information on the website?"
"Mhmhmhm", she thought for a bit, then said "well, no it's not there, but there's an online Gazette, (a 35 page manual) where you can find all the information you need".
"Oh", that's the right place for THAT information to be, very accesble to us users, right?" I smiled.
She nodded in agreement. She didn't realize I was being ironic. I rolled my eyes and looked around.
Finally I found a phone to make my complaint heard, yet I quickly understood, the lady on the phone was telling me the same thing than the people there. As my attention on her voice waned when she mentioned the Gazette, I looked at the numbers on the paper I just printed and the numbers on the bank receipt. They didn't match. Then I remembered. The hurried cashier at the bank, him counting bills, making notes, inserting the numbers at the same time, me repeating the numbers and letters four times, him nodding...
On my way out I asked someone else what to do about that specific issue, and he informed me, that matter had to be fixed at a government office or at the bank.
I went to the first place, but guess what? Those matters can't be dealt on all government offices, but only on SOME of them and not every day, so after two days, I had no other option than to go to the bank.
"We can't fix that", a woman on her blue uniform and red knotted scarf informed me.
"Why?" I asked.
"Well", you see that small legend underneath your receipt?" She said.
I looked closely. "Yup", I mumbled. As I read, she stated: "You are responsible to check the information on the receipt is correct".
I looked at her knotted scarf. Then at her thick mascara, eyes blinking. I wondered if the bank just acquired human-like automated machines.
"So, let me just understand this", I said. "The man there, (I signaled a guy behind the counter) made a mistake which makes us 50/50 responsible of this irreversible fact, correct?"
"Yes" she said.
"Ok", where is the 50% of your accountability? Just reimburse me and I will make the same payment for the same infraction, and voilá!" I smiled.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible ma'am, but you can do two things: write a letter to the bank and we will let you know the result in a few days or go to the government office, maybe they would be able to help you first. Just so you know, the legend underneath the receipt actually exempts us from any responsability in the matter".
Bank Automata. I left. Went to my next stop. Government office number two.
As I got there, there was no one to provide information or guidance for any process anyone wished to undertake. All of us were moving like dumb chickens looking for grains across the place, trying to pick some cues, up, below, a number, a panel, a tarp? Nope. I finally asked an officer that let us all know the man we were waiting for, was actually not there, which to be honest, made me laugh for a bit.
Finally, an old man dragged his feet towards the information counter. I explained the situation to him. He interrupted my speech and said, "Go and wait in line over there". I turned around and saw no one in line, and asked again: "I'm sorry sir, but where's the line?" He thought I was being ironic or impolite or both and just said: "Go".
Was I being "punked"? I looked around and saw no cameras. Maybe I was, I thought. I looked at the people behind my line and asked: "Are we being punked?" Some laughed. So there I was, looking for a non-existent line in a government office. It took me a while to understand people seated on chairs, with no numbers or any kind of feedback whatsoever, was actually the "line" I was looking for.
A man behind an old PC, informed me (after telling me first he couldn't do anything for me and then saw me looking for a manager), that as long as the license plates matched the receipt, I was going to be fine and brushed me off quickly. "Sir, are you ab-so-lute-ly sure of this?" I asked. "Yes, yes, I'm sure", he said. Something felt off.
I left, with the only certainty I was being punked.
Turns out, I was right, on a new appointment at a new verification center, they told me, they could not help me either. At this point my humor vanished and my spirit started to loose it's optimism. It was only after I told a woman on a pink uniform, the odyssey I had gone through, that she first looked at me, really looked at me, then at the papers and said outloud: "Oooooh, I get it! This paper is wrong, please give these exact papers to the officer, just the ones I'm handing to you, the others please put them away".
Holy shit. A woman giving a danm. She knew, as I knew, I had done what most of the usual citizen would not go through to make this process work. Five instances (two verification centers, two government offices and a bank twice), a total of 30 hours invested in coming and going, gas, parking costs... She knew.
I did, exactly as she said. And after a brief, black hopelesness that showered me (where I always ponder of the future of my country), I felt grateful, because in mexican bureaucratic logic, this is normal. This is not some of us that fall through the cracks. This is the logic that leaves anyone unaccounted, for any legal process, whether a burglary or a hospital malpractice, our ways allow for some to benefit from it, leaving most of us in a daze, completely baffled at the resilience one must have, in order to live in this majestic place. Where no one informs us if we will drop like flies out of unseen pollution indexes, or if we'll ever find out if 43 students were killed by army officers.
What I'm certain of, sometimes, is that someone at the top, behind, watching on the sideline, always benefits from this (lack thereof) logic, but most of the times, is never us: until someone like us, does care and gives us a hand.
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