in pursuit of a police record is the pursuit of happiness

This journey towards a dream has included some winding roads and cryptic messages-puzzles that have had to be solved in order to move onto the next level like some not-so-virtual video game. Thanks to a new found contact gained through Deltec... another dear soul who is building on our very island, I was given an answer to a question that not even my attorney in the bahamas could answer. Like passing secret code via email, my new partner in crime, a pediatric surgeon from michigan, fed me valuable information that he had obtained along his own dream journey. I, willing to receive such nuggets of info like they were some sort of insider secret felt like I had won the mother load, or at the very least the golden key that unlocks the tower to save the princess. Today's particular piece of the puzzle...

How to obtain a police record.

Or more correctly in my case, how to obtain a police record if you don't have a police record.

I know, it confused my too. Welcome to my not-so-virtual world.

Among the many hoops that must be jumped through (some of them flaming) in order to continue the ongoing process of creating our bahamas retreat is a list of documents needed by those good people that run the government of the bahamas. They want to make sure you are good people too so they require a document that says so...

sounds reasonable.

But again... If you have never committed a crime...

So, thanks to my fellow journeyman in michigan who gave me the necessary hints to obtain the magic mushroom...

I found myself being fingerprinted.

This friendly trip to the state police office where every wednesday from 9-11 they print all those good folk looking to obtain their records would hopefully get me to the next level. After entering the precinct and signing in, taking a number and a seat I tried not to feel nervous.

After all it's not like going to a police station makes you a criminal.

After denying my more impish self to lean over to the person seated across from me and whisper,

"What are you in for?"

I instead surveyed the room while pondering the people who, like me, waited for their numbers to be called.

The room was filled with dreams.

Faces from many nationalities sat waiting to accomplish the next step in immigration that would allow them to live in this country. I could only imagine the gauntlet that many of these people had already been through.

Faces of hopeful, would-be parents, seeking the next piece of the puzzle to allow them to adopt a child.

Faces of those climbing the ladder of their careers, government workers needing a simple piece of paper to add another rung.

There was a face of a idealistic young man on his way to teach english in Korea.

And me.

All of us in our various real-life video games in pursuit of something, ironically, some in opposite directions, but all looking for that next piece to help get us there. What was at first a scary room full of strangers became a place where we shared something in common, a place of intersecting at this particular point in the game.

I found myself hoping for the best for each one of them, silently cheering them on.

After all, we really all want the same thing.

"Number 46!"

My turn. I entered through a door guarded by a white haired gentleman who had been kindly giving out instructions on filling out the right forms, being patient with the non-english, and informative to those like me, interjecting humor all the while...

bless him.

Passing him and going through the door to the printing room, which was more like a hallway, I was greeted by another elderly man, short and chatty instructing me on how to ink my fingers. The surreal nature of the paradox of having him place my blackened thumb on the paper while asking me where I went to school made my knees a little weak. I cheerfully made small talk while he finished my fingers, feeling a little awkward like I might say the wrong thing and thus trigger hidden sirens and flashing red lights.

Then he was politely folding my card and giving me instructions of what to do with it, where to mail it...

"You're all set".

Leaving the precinct with card in hand I send up one more prayer for all those fellow travelers still waiting to be called. blessings on your journey.

On to the next level.