After almost three years since I began the process to get my dual citizenship in Argentina, 25 trips down to the Registro Civil to beg and fight with the bureaucrats, and countless other hours spent agonizing over this ordeal, my Argentinian DNI has arrived to me in Washington DC via my old apartment in Buenos Aires and my parent’s home in Sharon, MA. It’s kind of hard to believe that it’s actually here, and now looking at the awful picture that was taken on the fly the day that I was initially approved for it, I wonder how much has changed since then. I often thought about what it would be like when the ID finally was in my hands, and now that it’s here, apart from a broad smile on my face, I’m not jumping in the air or rushing out to celebrate. It’s over, and now it’s time to move on.
I probably took a couple years off of my life with the stress of trying to get that citizenship approved (available to me through my mother, who was born there), but in the upshot learned a wealth of knowledge about the political and governmental system of Argentina. In fact, I probably know more than some Argentinians too. I couldn’t have possibly gotten this document without the help of my parents, friends and colleagues down in Buenos Aires, who on numerous occasions accompanied me to the Registro Civil or called up and spoke on my behalf. Matías, Leo, Vero, Pablo, Ana and everyone else who’s asked me about it or shown concern, I thank you.
If you followed along with the blog throughout the years, you’ll know that I was approved, then rejected because of a stamp in the “wrong” place, and then re-approved, though I left the country before the document made it to my mailbox. In fact, I’d already moved apartments twice before leaving the country and needed to rely on my old neighbor, Ana, to stay abreast of the situation. As always, it’s these little things that made the whole experience worthwhile.
So now that I’ve gotten my papers and can look back after living two years as “undocumented” and having paid for reciprocity fees all over the continent, what’s next? There’s always the passport. First, I think I’ll catch my breath for a few minutes before jumping up to that hurdle.