Most Americans think of illegal immigrants as short, sturdy fellows from neighboring Mexico. In the Russian-speaking community, these people are sometimes derisively called Mexes (even though the industriousness and perseverance that they exhibit are frequently lacking in members of our community). Most debates concerning the failed immigration reform bill touched on issues relevant to immigrants from Latin America, like building a wall along the U.S.-Mexico border, providing government aid to border crossers, and finding alternatives to cheap labor on plantations in the South. Not once during discussions of this extremely important issue, or after legislators successfully swept the issue under the rug (apparently it was not that important after all!), did political scientists, elected officials, lawyers, or members of the public comment on a different category of illegal immigrants.

These immigrants did not crawl through barbed wire on the border with New Mexico, suffocate in a container on a cargo vessel headed for Boston, or hide behind boxes of candy on the Canadian border. Instead, they enthusiastically disembarked planes at JFK and proudly displayed their guest visas to customs officials. But of course they were not coming here as guests. Why would you travel halfway around the world (for $1,200) to see some distant relative or acquaintance when you live in country where you only earn $50 a month?

These people came here for the sole purpose of working and earning money for their families, who are left behind to count every hryvnia, tenge, lari, ruble, or manta.

“I’ll work for a year and then come back,” they say to reassure themselves and their relatives. But a “guest” gradually becomes an illegal immigrant, and one year becomes three, five, or eight years.

The story of these overstayers is a drama hidden beneath what looks like prosperity.

A number of middle-aged Russian-speaking women work in cleaning services. This is difficult work, but it pays well (an experienced maid can earn a great deal of money with a rich American family). These women have their own cars, a necessity since clients' homes can be 20 to 30 miles away from each other. They live in well-furnished apartments and have everything they need for a comfortable life. But they are not happy.

Galina has a husband and son in Tashkent. Her son is just about to graduate from school and has a choice between college and the army. He needs the kind of money that can only be earned here in America to avoid the horrible experience of the army. Galina has also had to send money home so that her husband could repair his worn out Zhiguli and fix up the apartment.

Marina from Astana constantly has to send money home because she has two teenage daughters, her husband is unemployed, and her mother has a miniscule pension.

Zamira from Batumi last saw her son when he was two years old. He is now eight. He hardly knows his mother, who is still unable to tell him when he will be able to embrace her again.

Embraces from men are another matter. The husband's place is gradually taken over by a boyfriend, who is easy to find since male overstayers also abound. These men usually work at construction sites as roofers, carpenters, and drivers. They have also been stuck here for many years after leaving their families to work here for a year.

An acquaintance of mine has spent five years making pickles at a local company. Every time I see him he says, “I'll work one more year and go back home.” He says this not so much to reassure me as to reassure himself. I have been hearing this from him for three years now and I am sure that this will not be his last year here.

A couple who left their 15-year-old daughter and 18-year-old son in their native Minsk answer unintelligibly when they are asked how long they plan on being here. “We may work another year or two,” they say vaguely. One can only hope that everything is alright with their two children, who are completely on their own.

Overstayers usually do not put much effort into learning the language. After all, they console themselves, we're going home soon. They do not settle into American life like “normal” immigrants do. They watch only Russian TV channels and mix only with their compatriots. Many of them have never seen the Statue of Liberty, the Metropolitan Museum, or Lincoln Center, even though these places are only a short subway ride away. They consider America to be a temporary haven even though this country has long been their permanent place of residence. They are not able to leave and come back. And they are not able to stay, even though they seem to be here for good.