An unforgettable night in a Mexican prison

If you ask the Russian-speaking audience of many thousands:

- How many of you have been to Mexico? - A forest of hands goes up. But the question, "Have you been to a Mexican prison? - will confuse the people. Well, that's where I beat you on all counts!

True, I lied a little bit. I didn't spend 24 hours in jail, it was just a holding cell at Cancun airport. I hope that my sad experience will be useful to others, so that they do not step on their own rake.

I was visiting my kids in the U.S., and shortly before I left for home, they bought us all a tour to Mexico. There were five of us: three adults and two children. Mine had green cards, and I had a U.S. visa in my Belarusian passport.

We left Chicago airport on time, a three-hour flight, and here we were at border control. They let me through without any problems, but they said to me: "Your visa's expired!

- How, my visa is still valid for two months!

- No, it's not a visa, it's just a stamp allowing you to stay in America.

You can throw me clogs and tomatoes, call me a dumb sheep and other unflattering words - I agree with everyone!

To be honest, I searched the Internet for information about whether I could go to Mexico, and I found that with a B1 B2 visa I could! But, stupid and naive, I was sure that the stamp was an extension of the visa!

Now I remembered for the rest of my life that the visa is this picture circled in red.

And the stamp looks like this.

No amount of persuading, crying, asking the consul, sniveling, and grabbing my grandchildren's skirts helped.
I could barely get my daughter-in-law to go to the hotel with the kids, and my son stayed behind. I was promised a three-hour flight back to Chicago tomorrow. The girl officer reassured my son:

- Your mother will be given a bed, food and water, don't worry, everything will be fine, you can't be here anymore.

- How can I get in touch with my mother?

- No way, only through the consulate or call here!

So they brought me into a windowless room, threw two black mats and a black plaid on the floor - make yourself comfortable, lady!

An hour later the officer came in, asking what I was going to eat. Shit, I should have asked for shrimp and lobster, but like a tolerant Belarusian, I modestly said I would eat anything. They brought me a bottle of water, a sandwich with some kind of meat and a leaf of lettuce. I ate the leaf.

The room was twelve paces diagonally. So Comrade Lenin was still sitting in decent conditions in solitary confinement in Tsarist Russia.

There were two toilets, a sink, and even a shower! I walked, cried, sat, lay down, smoked a cigarette despite the ban - to hell with it - took a whole pill of sleeping pills, thankfully I had my backpack with me, and fell asleep.

I woke up around midnight when they brought the girl and food for two at the same time. I did not understand why the American woman was detained, my English is practically zero, and there was no Internet to use the translator.

All I found out was that she was flying to her friends in some community to learn about life. Apparently something didn't sit well with Mexican customs. As my son later told me, seventeen people from Russia had been sent back the previous week. So we weren't the only ones who turned out to be reindeer!

The girl was very pitiful; she wouldn't touch her food at all, flailing at the door and only calming down in the morning after talking to her friend and the consul. She even offered to help me!

The worst thing about this situation is the lack of information! You don't know what's going on, what's going on with your loved ones. I was worried about my son, how would he get to the hotel? I knew that my son would call all the Belarusian consulates in the Americas. But I had no idea that he would drop off his things at the hotel, go back to the airport, and stay there until I left for Chicago.

The next day, at three o'clock in the afternoon, I became hysterical. That's it, I'm not leaving, I'm going to sit in this cell for a week, I'm going crazy, and why did this have to happen to me in the first place!

I found out later that at the airport they hold offenders for three days at the most, then send them to jail.

At five, they finally came for me and took me to the plane. They gave my passport to the commander of the ship. What was the point of that, I still don't understand! I guess they thought I would try to break through to the coveted Mexico-it was the Mexicans who should be building the wall, not Trump!

At the exit, the pilot returned my passport, and I, preparing for the worst, doomed to go to border control.

My son, who was already in touch, was reassuring me on the phone. He told me that the consul in Washington had made arrangements at the airport that I would not be deported, that everything would be fine.

I showed the officer my return ticket to Belarus (thank God it was in my phone). He asked where I was going to live before I left, so I gave him the address and showed him the keys to my apartment.

- How will you get home?

- My son's friends will meet him.

When the border guard gave me my passport, I burst into tears.

- Don't cry, it's okay, go, free!

An hour later I was home!

The next morning I got a call from the Washington Consul, asking how I was doing and advising me to remember the difference between a visa and permission to stay in an American country. When I started thanking him, he told me that it was his job! Belarusian people are lucky to have a consul!

What conclusions have I drawn from this story?

You always have to find out everything until the end. After all, even if I was already flying to Mexico, I could have asked the border guard if my passport was valid for the trip. Honestly, though, I don't understand how they let me out of the airport in Chicago.

Never despair, even in the worst situations. My son, lying at night at the airport on the concrete floor, prayed: "Lord, let this be the worst night of my life!

Believe in people, because there really are more good ones than bad ones. Otherwise the world would have died a long time ago!

Be sure to get everyone on their feet - call all the authorities, constantly monitor the situation until a positive result!

The main thing is to believe that everything will be all right! And I'll still go to Mexico, what are my years!