Aliens Jam U.S.’s INS Centers t Beat Clock : Tension, Frustration Show on Applicants, Clerks in L.A. Offices
Outside the busiest federal immigration amnesty office in the United States, the scene is not unlike a Mexican town fair. A cassette tape player blares Latin American tunes as street vendors peddle tapes, fresh mangoes, hot dogs and balloons. Some hand out flyers advertising amnesty-related services to the milling crowd.
Inside, however, in the sterile office-building environment of the Hollywood Legalization Office on Wilshire Boulevard, near Union Avenue, anxious immigrants grow frustrated as they butt up against American bureaucracy.
And, the race against the clock, as the nation’s massive one-year amnesty program for illegal aliens draws to a close at midnight Wednesday, has added an edge of tension inside the cavernous hall where upwards of 300 immigrants wait--sometimes all day--for help.
Untangling Inevitable Errors
Tension also is felt behind the row of partitioned counters where about two dozen immigration clerks answer hundreds of questions each day, organize applications and try to untangle the inevitable bureaucratic errors that are a daily occurrence in the massive operation.
For the last few weeks, last-minute applications have been piling up in huge stacks at the Immigration and Naturalization Service’s Hollywood office. A similar crush of applications at the 15 other legalization offices in the INS’ Los Angeles District started setting records last week.
By Wednesday, the district struck an all-time daily high of 10,000 applications, nearly a tenfold increase over previous daily averages.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” said Gene Pyeatt, INS’ Los Angeles deputy district director for legalization, who expects the 11th-hour rush to culminate in a “monster” final day next Wednesday. Despite the dramatic surge in applications, the total is still expected to fall far short of the federal government’s initial 4-million projection.
Juan Lucero, 31, a native of Mexico who only last week filed his application at the Hollywood office, is among those who almost did not make it.
The construction worker said that he had trouble finding steady employment for a while and that it took him until recently to save the $270 air fare he needed to track down a former employer in Denver.
When he found the Denver farmer and asked him for an affidavit of employment needed to document his amnesty application, the farmer agreed to do so for a price: 15 days of free labor, Lucero said.
Lucero turned down the farmer, he said, and instead tracked down a former Denver landlord who gave him an affidavit to help him establish that he has lived in the country since before 1982. Under the 1986 immigration reform law, which imposes penalties on employers who hire illegal aliens, amnesty applicants must be able to prove that they have lived in the United States since at least 1982.
‘Kind of Depressed Me’
“All this had kind of depressed me, but I’m happy now,” said Lucero, smiling nervously after handing his application to an INS clerk who tossed it on a growing pile of large manila envelopes.
The cost of applying for amnesty and gathering the required documentation was cited again and again by last-minute applicants. Some families said they applied, one member at a time, as money became available. Many said they saved all year and worked overtime or got second jobs to pay the amnesty expenses, which include a $185 amnesty fee, the cost of a medical exam, photos and fingerprints.
In addition, immigrants said they paid notary publics, immigration consultants or attorneys up to $1,000 to help them prepare their applications.
Others said that they held off out of fear of the process and that they might not meet all the qualifying requirements. A Guatemalan applicant said that he put off applying for several months, afraid that INS agents might suddenly block the legalization center doors in a sting operation to trap aliens inside the building.
An Australian alien, who asked to be identified only as “Asia,” said she waited until now because she was “terrified” by the prospect of applying.
“Living in such a reserved way (as an illegal alien) for so long makes you sort of reticent of taking full control,” said Asia, 36, who said she is a physical therapist studying toward a business degree and who shares an apartment with a friend in Beverly Hills.
Fear, Then Frustration
For those who filed earlier and are now being called back to the office to receive their temporary residency cards, the initial fear has given way to frustration, even boredom, as they sit for hours at a time inside the Hollywood INS center.
“It’s really frustrating. You can’t eat or even go to the bathroom, afraid they’ll call your name and you’ll miss it,” said Facundo Vasquez, 24, after waiting several hours Thursday to receive his card. Vasquez said he went to the center earlier in the week in response to a notice he received in the mail, but he was told to come back.
Vasquez said that one of the first things he plans to do after receiving his residency card is to visit his parents and younger brothers in Mexico he has been supporting but has not seen for seven years. He also plans to ask for a raise.
“We’re not going to let them exploit us anymore,” Vasquez said. He complained that new hires at the restaurant where he works are paid more because they are “legal.”
“Now, we can fight for our rights,” he said.
Even the woman from Santa Maria and her two young daughters who woke up at 3 a.m. to arrive at the Hollywood office when it opened, then waited the entire day to receive a temporary residency card, said it was worth the trouble.
Problems with misplaced files and cards, backlogs in the issuance of permanent residency cards and rescheduling of appointments abound.
‘Bound to Be Mistakes’
“There’s bound to be mistakes and problems when we handle so many applications,” said Magdalena Watkins, director of the Hollywood legalization office. Overall, however, Watkins insists the operation is running smoothly.
To deal with the last-minute flood of applications, personal interviews with applicants have been canceled until after the Wednesday deadline, freeing workers to process the incoming files.
Complain of Stress
Even so, some workers at the office, which like other INS offices is admittedly understaffed, complain that the stress of the year’s high-pressure job has begun to show.
Twelve-hour shifts are not uncommon, they say, and they have been asked to put in even longer hours during the final days of the program to keep offices open through the weekend.
Takes Tranquilizers
“I started therapy this week,” said Alonzo Cuthbertson, an “adjudicator” who interviews immigrants and makes recommendations on whether to approve their applications. Although he takes tranquilizers in the morning to help him cope with the job’s pressures, Cuthbertson said that by noon he is “frantic.”
Long the office’s stand-up comic, Cuthbertson said he has even lost his sense of humor.
About half the office’s 13 adjudicators have quit the program. Pyeatt, of the district director’s office, said that district-wide the program is down more than 100 positions, representing about a 25% vacancy rate. Pyeatt said there has been a high turnover, but that most of those who have quit have done so to accept promotions within the agency.
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