This morning I took the first step in fixing the problem with my RCMP criminal record check: I was fingerprinted.

Carefully following the instructions on the Canadian government website, I first found a fingerprint service in Canada, which was easy because I just used the same one I used before. From their site I was able to download the necessary forms, which I duly filled in, ready to present myself at a very official looking office on Tucuman. As it turned out, unlike the fingerprint service in Canada, this is actually a government department, which is good because it didn’t cost anything. The Canadian service costs $120!

Anyway, I arrived at 8.30 am and joined the “Fila #1” (the first line), only to eventually find I was not only in the wrong line but the wrong office. I had to go out the door, turn left and go in next door. I did that, and went through the dingy glass fronted door that seems typical of government offices everywhere, into an equally dingy office containing four desks piled high with papers. And two women engaged in earnest conversation.

One of them reluctantly stepped forward to serve me. She didn’t say a word, just looked at me. In my best Spanish, I told her I wanted to have my fingerprints taken on this form. She looked at it for a moment, said “Black pen. Here is blue,” and handed it back to me. I had completed the form in the wrong colour ink! What was I thinking??

I asked if I could write over it in black, but she sent me outside to wait for “Fernando”. He arrived a short time later, and at least he was jovial and friendly. Miss Congeniality explained my mistake, and he said, “No problem. I will print out another form for you to do it again.” However, when he presented me with the form a moment later, I pointed out it was the FBI form and I needed the one from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police — yes, I gave them their full title just to be sure.

“Ah, Canada!” he said. What a concept!

Anyway, he printed out the form and while I was filling it out, he conferred with Miss Congeniality. “It doesn’t say anywhere here the form has to be in black ink,” he said. “But it does,” she stated flatly. I think she just made up the rule because I had interrupted her conversation.

I was then walked down to another, even dingier little room and “dabbed”. Fernando gave me some foul smelling liquid to rub off the ink, and I was done.

Apparently they don’t send the papers to Canada; I have to do that. But that’s good, because at least I can send them by FedEx, which I’m sure would have been an unsurmountable obstacle, at least if Miss Congeniality had anything to do with it.

Writers’ Group

When I finished the dabs, my day took a turn for the better, as I went to take part in a writers’ group I had been told about by two BAIN friends, Cliff and Paddy. It was great. We met at a restaurant over coffee and medialunas, which was a good start.

We each talked about our writing week and then did a writing exercise, which was good practice. Then we each read something we were working on and got some helpful critiques.

I’ve never belonged to a writers’ group before, and I think this is going to be good for my writing as well as lots of fun.

On Friday the saga continues as Cecilia and I go back to the Customs Office to see if I can finally get access to my boxes.