Immigration: Stumbling out of the gate into a field of restless folk for whom government changes seem whimsical

Heard it on the grapevine:  A continuing – and increasingly loud – unhappy reaction to Mexico’s new (and clearly complicated) federal laws and increased fees for foreigners wishing to visit or reside in this Republic temporarily or permanently.

According to many common Mexicans, as well as academics, economic observers, lawyers, former and current politicians and government employees, the country’s various governments – municipal, state and federal and their subordinate agencies and representatives – are presently scrambling to rake in funds from as many sources as possible.  This seemingly insatiable fever, say old-timers, is common at the end of each sexenio (six-year presidential term).   For instance, not even Mexican citizens are clear whether these new laws and fee increases applying to foreigners are really a product of the outgoing administration of president Felipe Calderon, or the incoming just-elected Enrique Peña Nieto. The “immigration” changes were enacted back in May 2011, so logic – not always applicable to governments – suggests it was the work of Calderon&Co.

Two stories by The Guadalajara Reporter’s long-time resourceful correspondent, Dale Hoyt Palfrey, tried with patience to obtain an explanation of what these changes mean for foreign visitors and residents.  It is clear that the new changes were “enacted” before they were digested by anyone hoping they could be applied without confusion on the part of government employees and bewilderment on the part of foreigners applying to enter Mexico.

Just before Dale Palfrey’s first story on the government’s evidently inexplicable new changes to its “immigrant” laws, I was in Guadalajara being shunted from this office to that line, and back again regarding both this matter and a drivers license for a friend.  Both processes (which were never completed) constitute a baleful encounter with Mexican governance for newcomers, or even Mexican veterans.

To prepare for another try at what tends to resemble a World War I assemblage of an endless trench- and barbed wire-ornamented battle field, I discovered a woman by the lilting name of Mary Loly.  She was familiar with the crown of thorns abruptly being offered to each newcomer to this Republic.  Amazingly, her reaction to this bureaucratic tangle that appears to baffle all government offices: “all problems will be soon worked out.”  “Soon,” used by officials, is always a delaying tactic, meaning nobody knows.  What the changes mean for people who have foreign-plated vehicles admitted under temporary import permits are unknown presently as new “guidelines” (a well-worn governmental identification), have not yet been defined, our reporter was told.  This of course is not cheering information concerning a law that is now some 18 months old.

However, this process is a useful baptism for newcomers who may mistakenly think that because the Republic’s cities are squeezed tight with U.S accouterments, that some kind of familiar accompanying logic prevails.  That is what Mexicans call suenos (dreams).  For Sra. Loly, such imbroglios are approached with a fervent optimism that they can be solved.  She believes the objective of the new decrees is to have a modern, more clear law and a set of procedures that fit more tidily in the world’s increasing globalization.  She says it will also protect immigrants to Mexico and their rights, while instituting a computerized system covering information on all foreign visitors and residents.  (If you find George Orwell’s “Big Brother” comforting, this will please you.  But one “maverick-minded” Mexican notary told me when I mentioned this, “If you don’t, you won’t be pleased with the changes, no matter how inevitable they may be.”)

“The changes will take time to be made clear,” Mary Loly says.  “In my opinion, it will be easier and faster for everyone.”  I admire, even envy, her irrepressible good cheer.  That philosophy that “one makes the best of a situation, even when handed the worst of a situation,” is what keeps human beings going during all kinds of challenging moments.  A philosophy that will be sorely tried as this set of mandates are pushed upon a public who didn’t ask for them, and certainly will face a knotty time dealing with them.  One uses the word “certainly,” for if Mexico’s new Ley de Migracion was enacted May 2011 and no one, after a year and a half, really knows what the changes really are or mean, that leaves a hole large enough to drive an 18-wheeler through, a sumptuous space for Mexico’s “original sin,” corruption, to flourish in all its many and inventive ways.

But we are in Mexico, and while enough noise may alter some, probably minor, elements of these unwelcome changes, there is time to get used to making the best of a dizzy situation.

Yet another interesting and revealing matter crops up in the official Mexican declaration of what seem to be new rules and fees, but appear to some to be only a change primarily in nomenclature.  Unfortunately, local immigration officials keep mentioning “the logic” of such changes, something some say is always a dangerous strategy when trying to justify government behavior.  These exasperating shifts for requirements coming into effect for those wishing to qualify for temporary or permanent residency as retirees or pensioners are defined as based in the present Mexican minimum wage (SM).   These changes, which seem to be fluctuating, have been defined by authorities as 400 times times the Mexican minimum wage, 500 times the minimum wage, etc. (These will be dealt with more specifically as they become more fixed.)  The minimum wage (known as SM – Salario Minimo) is today set at 62.33 pesos per day.  As a result of inflation, some 60 million Mexicans are living in poverty; the number living in extreme poverty grew 44.2 percent between 2006 and 2010, and that number has continued to grow.  I was discussing the new immigration rules with several Mexican friends the other day.  One noted, with a rough grin that, according to these new requirements, he was now too poor to legally live in Mexico.  Of course, in reality, he is too poor to legally enter Mexico if he didn’t have a Mexican birth certificate, or some other convincing proof that he was born here.  He found this grimly hilarious.  Someone mentioned all the hoops, legal and fiscal, that Mexicans need to jump through to get “Green Card” admittance into the United States. “Pos, that’s the gringo way,” he said, waving a callused hand, “not a Mejicano way.  They’ve always been very nervous about such things.”

Piecemeal summary:  1)  Tourist card for 18O days issued at Mexican port of entry or air terminal on flying to Mexico.  The 180-day permit will cost 295 pesos.  If entering by vehicle bearing non-Mexican license plates, Aduana (Customs) will require a 400-dollar deposit charged to your credit card, which also acts as a receipt.  An Aduana permit sticker will also be issued when you enter.  With the receipt, the 400-dollar will be credited to your credit card when you exit Mexico.

Temporary Residents can choose to stay and pay for one to four years when documents are issued:  One year, 3,030 pesos; two years, 4,600 pesos; three years, 5,940 pesos; four years, 7,040 pesos.  (Note:  Pay the one time 7,040 fee, and your receipt allows you to drive your vehicle across the border for multiple entries.)  Also with your temporary status Aduana receipt you may bring into Mexico your personal possessions.  With a temporary permit, once you have completed four years, or have had four porrogas (renewals) stamped on your permit, you may apply for permanent status.  To obtain permanent status, seek an interview at the nearest Mexican Consulate in your home country.  You can go one line to “Mexican Immigration”; select the Mexican Consulate near you.  You “should” be able to print out an application for an interview.  Take with you your passport, and a copy,  proof of income and the filled-in permanent residency application.  Proof of income: investment income (interest), property income, a pension income equaling at least $1,918.00 USD per month.  You must pay a fee of 3,185 pesos when your application is accepted.  Permanent Residents are not allowed to bring with them a non-Mexican plated car.  Could confused officials change this?  Local oddsmakers say probably.