Lacrosse to Bear

Back in May I returned to London for a fortnight’s holiday. Obviously, I wanted to see my friends; whether or not they wanted to see me was another matter. Maybe all those tears that were shed at my departure were tears of joy; I have no idea. But in any case, I went back to have a wonderful time of reunions, theatre, dinner at The Ivy, museums and the earlier mentioned upholstered seats in the underground.
But I had another reason for this return. Unless I go back into the UK every 2 years I lose my right to residency or, as the Immigration officials put it, “leave to enter and remain in the United Kingdom.” Just as an aside here, let me tell you that many years ago when my parents were visiting me while I was doing my M.A. in the UK, my father’s secretary told someone on the phone that my father was in the United Kingdom. “Oh, dear,” came the reply, “when did he die?”
Ok, so there I was in the queue for Immigration, two passports at the ready; one passport was my current one, the other had the magic stamp in it which gives me the “right to abode” which I wish to maintain in case my daughter, a British Subject, ever goes back to live there. So to get this over with as quickly as possible, I approached the officer when I was called and explained that I wished to maintain my rights and have the usual stamp of ‘right to abode.’ He looked over the 2 passports and then said, “But Madam, you’re only here for 14 days. And even if you want that stamp, you were last in the UK in September ’08 so you have gone past the two years.”
There was a m0ment’s silence while I stood staring at him trying to figure out which one of us had Alzheimer’s. Since there is no song for the months the way there is for the alphabet, to help you get those months in order, I had to spend a bit of time figuring this one out. However, years of experience told me that May came before September so in the end I gently but firmly pointed out to him that I still had 3 months to go. He gave me the stamp.
Now I have heard about the problems faced by the Iroquois Nationals, a Lacrosse team headed to the UK for competition in Manchester. The Iroquois apparently invented the game and they have always been considered a nation, just like the USA or Canada. But unfortunately, security being what it is these days, the UK does not recognize their hand-written documents and also sought assurance from the USA that the Nationals will be re-admitted into the US airports…since the Reservations obviously do not have airports of their own. To put it bluntly, this sucks. But it also raises an interesting question. The map of the USA would look something akin to Swiss cheese if the Indian reservations were pulled out of it, yet Oklahoma, originally Indian Territory, is a state and no such holes exist. Tellingly, Governor Bill Richardson of New Mexico who was all in favour of the Iroquois travelling on their handwritten tribal passports, said, “It’s a matter of tribal sovereignty and respecting the rights of the Native American population of this country.” ‘Of this country?’ What country is that exactly? The Iroquois Nation or the USA???
Are they Americans or Iroqouis? Am I British or American? Does anyone know?