What's in your wallet?

With all due respect to Capital One, not too many American credit cards anymore.

I've been comfortably settled in for a while now, but yesterday (Friday) I finally completed the long process of getting a tarjeta de identidad de extranjero (or TIE), and am now the official possessor of a Spanish identity card, complete with color photo on the front and (smudgy) fingerprint on the back.  This makes me a completely legal and registered and fichada resident of Spain, at least until the end of June, and also means that my número de identidad de extranjera has now been recorded in so many places that it will follow me for the rest of my life if I ever decide to live here for the long term.  So that's a relief.

It also means that my wallet is filled with little plastic id cards that identify me as a madrileña.  I now have my TIE (which I have placed in the clear plastic folder where I keep my driver's license, in front of said driver's license), and also my Banco Sabadell cards (registered to my local branch), my red multi-tarjeta for the metro and bus (and bike share), by white and blue polideportivo membership card, and my blue and white Biblioteca Nacional "investigadora" card.  In honor of all these forms of photo id (and deference to my wallet not straining too much), I have ceremonially removed my NYC library card and my NYC ID, which I was carrying for sentimental reasons.  While I do still have my driver's license and insurance and student id cards (things which in an emergency it would be good to have), my wallet is starting to look more local.  This just goes to show (something that a lot of flag-wavers here have been trying to hide) that when people talk about patria and homeland, and also about "integration" and "assimilation" of immigrants, really what they're talking about is what's in your wallet (of which cash, which comes out of ATM machines generally, is usually the least important thing).  Respect to Capital One's advertising firm, for coming up with a slogan which captures the essence of modern identity.

I should say that my trip to Aluche yesterday to pick up my TIE was uneventful although I was worried when I saw the length of the line stretching out onto the sidewalk before being allowed through the metal detectors in the little guardhouse, and then the incredibly long lines inside the courtyard as well.  I wasn't sure if it was because it was a Friday and the day after a puente, when many people might have had a four day weekend and taken the opportunity to get paperwork done, or whether there were special visiting hours on Friday for what my Aluche friends explained to me is one of the (infamously overcrowded) immigrant detention centers in Spain.  (That explains the security cameras and the metal grilles over the upper windows.)  According to the little sign on the door before the guardhouse (which I had time to read this time, since there was a line out the door), the visiting hours don't change from Monday to Friday for lawyers (who get morning and evening hours), NGOs (who get evening hours), and family members (who get afternoon hours).  Given that there's been some kerfuffle lately over whether Spain (a)is a democracy and (b)has an impartial legal system, I think it's nice in a way that lawyers have essentially full access to detained immigrant clients except during lunch and siesta (because really, what kind of obnoxious lawyer works during lunch and siesta).  On the other hand, there's something vaguely upsetting about the fact that lawyers and NGOs have greater access than family members to people who have been detained.  (I somehow doubt that the people detained in the immigration centers buried in Aluche have access to video chats and Skype and WhatsApp like the Catalan politicians who are screaming about how they're being martyred via said media.  Don't get me wrong, I disapprove of putting politicians in jail generally, because it's a slippery slope.  But it would be nice if some of the thousands of people demonstrating for liberty for the Catalan politicians thought it was worthwhile to turn up to maybe protest for extending the visiting hours for family members of detained immigrants from beyond 2:30 to 7:30 Mondays to Fridays.  Just a thought.)

Anyway, once I made it through the guardhouse metal detector and into the courtyard I saw a number of annoyed looking people holding passports that were the twin of my own, and overheard a few conversations in unmistakably American English, as well as a number in fairly upscale varieties of Spanish.  This convinced me that the lines were not a result of the prison-function of the Aluche comisaría, but rather the logical thing that Spain has a huge population of foreign students (like me) and that all of them arrive at the beginning of the school year (like me), and all the ones who do their paperwork expeditiously end up picking up their documents at around the same time (e.g. six to eight weeks after their arrival).  Furthermore, all the ones who put off doing their paperwork are forced into finally taking care of it around now so that they get their TIE before their temporary visas expire.  In support of this theory, aside from the long line of people I joined waiting to pick up their cards, there was a long line of people waiting to drop off their documents and get fingerprinted snaking around the opposite side of the courtyard toward the same narrow set of glass doors.  As the two lines approached the doors from opposite sides I saw a fellow Fulbrighter opposite me on the other line, who waved, and then communicated by sign language to ask whether she was in the right line for dropping off, and whether I was picking up.  After I got my card I went and chatted with her a bit, and she explained that she was worried about getting the card in time, because she is planning to head home for Christmas, and does not want to leave Spain without her card - which extends her visa - cleared away.

Anyway, as we stood in the sunshine and inched toward the glass doors an employee of the comisaría came down along the line collecting our "resguardos" (or receipts) for our TIEs, and asking politely if we had brought our passports along for pickup.  (It reminded me of the way airline people walk down the lines to check in going through the "have you packed your own luggage?  has anyone given you anything?" speech, and then sticking stickers on suitcases.)  I experienced a moment of partly rational and partly irrational panic once my receipt was collected, as I realized that I now had no proof of having applied for the TIE, and no TIE in hand, which practically speaking meant I couldn't leave until I got to the head of the line, which meant if there was a lot of delay I might be late for yoga.  (That wasn't an irrational fear, but it turned out to be an unfounded one.  They were very expeditious.)  I also realized that the person who had gone down the line collecting receipts had not been wearing any sort of uniform (or visible ID), which I think actually is probably part of a deliberate attempt to keep the process friendly and low-key, rather than having uniformed cops do it, but also made me realize that someone could steal a bunch of receipts and no one on the line would be the wiser.  (Yes, I'm paranoid.  No, it wasn't a rational fear.  It was just something that occurred to me.)  I was somewhat reassured when the same gentleman reappeared a few minutes later with one receipt in hand, and called someone's name, and then politely apologized and said her card wasn't ready yet, and to please try back next week.  (At least they were trying to not have people wait on line for too long and then be told at the last minute that they had no card.)  He continued going down the line as it lengthened and collecting receipts, and then when we got into the building the people at the counter took each receipt from the pile and matched it to the alphabetically arranged cards, and then called the name of the next person on line.  After submitting our passports briefly to have them matched to the TIE and entered into the system we received our cards, and that was that.  (Some people had to give fingerprints, but I think they were renewing old TIEs, to make sure the fingerprints matched.  Since passports don't have fingerprints, the new TIEs just went by passport.)

So now I have all my ID cards, and I am torn between pride and paranoia.  But on the whole I am mostly proud.  And also relieved that I no longer have to carry my passport around.  At least I won't once I update my information in the Biblioteca Nacional's very ferociously guarded bicycle parking system with my NIE.  I'm not taking my passport just for the sake of taking my bike.  But if they will accept the TIE, I can park my bike happily at the BNE, secure in the knowledge that I have the right card in my wallet.