On a Carousel January 21, 2023
So brave readers ask, “Have you managed to marry your anonymous source yet?”
Vanessa cheekily responds, “Oaxaca is beautiful until you see the paperwork.”
This bureaucracy deals only with paper, particularly original copies, which is an obvious oxymoron. Few bureaucrats have a computer, and those that do do not trust them. Indeed, it can be said that no one on earth is able to hack into Oaxaca government’s civil records because there are no files in the computer. There is simply not any money for such investment. The system may seem dilapidated and outdated, but at least it keeps Oaxaca airtight safe from cyber-terrorists.
Today at the Civil Registry, on Calle Colon, anxious parents learn that there are no forms to register their newborn babies; moreover, there will not be any new forms available for at least 20 days. The new families shake their heads and walk away, yet more keep arriving, such is life. If they lived in the United States, birth certificates would be automatically issued at the hospitals, but most births here are not in hospitals. So the newborns will have to wait for their proof of birth at a government office. Hopefully, the parents will remember the correct birthday by the time the paperwork finally arrives, because this whole operation somehow relies on the honor system.
And I am trying to do the honorable thing. However, maintaining honor is exhausting, whereas deceit offers simpler options for expediting the process of acquiring a marriage certificate. For instance, since the only records of our previous marriages and divorces are in the United States, we could tie the knot right away if we claimed never to have been married before. This would not technically make us bigamists, but it would make us liars, which seems unworthy of a sacred vow.
Chiapas, of course, was even worse, as we could not even locate a working marriage-license office in San Cristobal de las Casas. In Oaxaca there was at least enough organization for us to be directly told that our request was impossible. Why would that be? Well, funny you should ask. Official American documents like birth certificates must be translated by a formally licensed translator, and, for months, none existed in Oaxaca. Not one in the entire state. Because? Exactly.
But it is a new day in Oaxaca. The Morena Party took control of government in December, and there is an entirely new civil administration with bold plans for reform. In support of marriage, the Municipal Registry now has a licensed translator in the house. We can do this! No, we cannot, as we are promptly informed that one “original copy” in our possession is apparently not “original” enough for the finicky translator. It turns out that copies are like sins, some more original than others. I want to scream with the other waiting babies of Oaxaca.
Fortunately, through the ups and downs of traversing this endless labyrinth, there is a suitable soundtrack to keep frustrations to a minimum:
Riding alone on a carousel, will I catch up to you?
Horses chasing ’cause they’re racing
So they ain’t so far—On a carousel!
Nearer and nearer by changing horses,
Still so far away
People fighting for their places just get in my way
Soon you’ll leave and then I’ll lose you
Still we’re going ‘round—On a carousel!
Round and round and round and round with you
Up, down, up, down, up, down, too…
On a Carousel, G. Nash