Introduction

1This article aims to reflect on the emotional experience of immigrants as to their undocumented status, based on research carried out since 2017 in the Lisbon Metropolitan Area. To be undocumented does not merely imply the failure to complete an administrative and legal process. It is also the experience of a temporal, emotionally-charged hiatus during which many questions, anxieties and doubts about their lives as immigrants are raised.

2The empirical data presented herein results from a multi-sited fieldwork, using semi-structured interviews with undocumented immigrants from different communities, namely from Bangladesh, Brazil, Egypt, Guinea-Bissau, Guinea Conakry, Cameroons, Nigeria, Pakistan, India and Angola. It addresses issues such as regularization procedures; length of stay in Portugal; working opportunities; relations with the state; access to social rights; as well as the personal goals and emotional states of those who experience or have experienced this situation.

3Keywords: immigrants; irregularity; emotions; public policies; integration.

Migrants or immigrants?

4To be undocumented is to be connoted with illegality. However, as the extensive interviews with immigrants1 revealed, these communities recurrently affirm their regular entrance in Portugal legally, while also complaining about their lack of access to any kind of official support. To understand this discourse, it is necessary to allow for a plasticity in the concept of migrant, incorporating several subcategories that often lead to mistake immigrants with refugees, in spite of the different motives for their mobilities, (Hein, 1993:44), creating a single category comprising both those who seek better living conditions and those who are obliged to seek refuge, failing to distinguish between these two very distinct groups (Abdelaaty, 2020). Denise Jardim focuses on this issue, referring a method of categorization that distinguishes among the different types of migrants, according to what she designates as a "record and inscription in ordinary life" (2016:245), which establishes eligibility criteria for the integration of refugees in international protection systems.

5But while in the case of refugees, their visibility is granted by State recognition, in situations where this status does not apply, they cross a unilateral barrier, excluded from a category which many are not granted, and falling under the framework of economic immigration. This in turn, should not be confused with economic immigration, where most cases imply starting on a path of resilience that is trailed in a condition of invisibility, because of their undocumented status. This implies remaining unrecognized by the State for long periods, before they are in a position to administratively apply for citizenship rights and thus enter a regular existence. In view of this, we can claim that lack of documentation is a wide-ranging problem which cannot be exclusively associated with economic immigration.

Globalization, fluxes and borders

6Nowadays it is difficult to dissociate immigration from globalization and the movement of capital, people and goods, rendering this group more than the simple socio-economic reflection of the search for better living conditions. Didier Fassin has described the phenomenon as a "polarized globalization", pointing to the fact that, if on the one hand, the movement of goods is facilitated, on the other hand it has increased restrictions on the movement of people, narrowing down on who can cross borders (2005).

7However, today we find another dimension to mobility that is derived from the flexibility of circulation, associated with factors such as the reduction of travel costs or new communication systems that streamline information and make immigrants more visible, but also make them easier targets of scrutiny, which in turn reflect on the direct practices of governmentality (Boomgaarden and Vliegenthart 2007; Foucault 2020).

8Immigrants are not considered tourists or visitors (Alonso 2009; Santana 2006), but new inhabitants who enter a bordered geographical space, bringing with them other models and cultural practices – becoming the symbolic representation of change and a threat to local identity as they highlight cultural differences and evoke feelings of non-belonging (Seyferth 2011: 55). Although these political-ideological perspectives by far pre-exist the refugee crisis of 2015, it was during this period that populist discourses exacerbated the imagination of many Europeans, contributing to build the image of an "invaded" Europe through the images showing numerous boats crossing the Mediterranean, and of tales of shipwrecks carrying many people fleeing war, hunger and misery in the search for security.

9The scale of this humanitarian problem acquires a magnified visibility through newspaper leads, causing an impact that currently overshadows the real numbers of refugees present in national territories, causing this gaze to be directed at economic immigration, as pointed out by Boomgaarden and Vliegenthart (2007). The use of a critical approach, of a more objective, impartial and plural journalism (even while faithful to its ethical principles) in the treatment themes that may be more sensitive for the media, is liable to interpretations that suffer the theoretical-practical consequences of using the image in the construction of media discourse (Caviedes 2015; Hutchinson 2014; Miguel and Biroli 2010; KhosraviNik 2010).

10Portugal is not included in the list of European countries receiving the largest numbers of immigrants: in 2019, the RIFA2 (Immigration Borders and Asylum Report) registered 578,976 migrants with residence permits. However, this figure only refers to the number of applications made through the SEF (Immigration and Border Authority) and includes immigrants who submitted the documentation; there is no official record of undocumented immigrants.

11From my experience accompanying the daily lives of these immigrants, I realized that the people who choose Portugal as their destination to find work are unaware in advance of the difficulties they may face, convinced that it is easier to obtain documents in Portugal, compared to other European countries. During this research, I also realized that the internet is an important vehicle for collecting information in the preparatory process for travel, where one can find platforms exclusively devoted to the dissemination of information regarding employment and accommodation conditions, based on other immigrants’ personal experiences.

12This is in line with Castells' statement that "network communication transcends borders" (2005) showing that transnational networks have the greatest impact on the migratory impulse, giving potential immigrants a set of common references, whether these are of a geographical-cultural nature or simply constitute social networks among friends, whose narratives recounting personal trajectories serve to make the enterprise less scary.

13But throughout this process, the lack of a Residence Permit proves to be an obstacle at various levels, whether to find a job, rent a house, open a bank account, obtain a health-care reference number, learn the language or generally to acquire citizenship rights. The constraints imposed by irregularity totally reconfigure these people’s lives, and I have tried to understand what undocumented people experience in the light of these dissonances, not only because obtaining the legal documents is the desired conclusion to a journey that begins in the countries of origin, but also because the emotions and subjectivities built around this problem are visible.

14Undocumented people are usually fearful and careful about exposing themselves, a trait already observed by Khosravi (2010), making it hard to approach the subject of their illegal situation in the eyes of the state. They rarely disclose their place of residence to me, and even what is agreed upon beforehand cannot be taken for granted, in a permanent game of cache-cache3, changing meeting points from one neighborhood to another, at different coffeeshops or tea houses, and often ending up meeting in the street, where the decision about where our conversation will take place is made at the last minute. I can understand the use of these initial strategies, their actions being governed by a suspicion caused by fear, as they are the "irregular" ones, who must not be exposed or noticed, who need to blend into the host society until they become lost in it. They are not the "legal" ones, but those who find themselves in a geographical space without administrative authorization, but where they must remain while waiting for their documents to be approved. Farida Adelkhah notes the existence of inadequate current practices and regulation (2007), which in turn is reflected on immigrants’ own practices and agency. From a more pragmatic perspective, considering that the State is collecting their contributions, and that it is mandatory to make proof of them at them moment of submitting the expression of interest, it would make sense to shorten the waiting period as much as possible, so that these same immigrants could have access to their citizenship rights. The problems generated by this constraint only end when the request is granted: it comes with obligations, but not with rights; despite being given a registration number and being required to continue contributing, they remain unregulated. This situation is psychologically so violent for anyone who has ever experienced being undocumented, that the discomfort remains after the conclusion of the regularization process, instilled in habits that cling to them involuntarily and whose marks are evidence for us of just how hard their paths have been as people in irregular situations. I would even refer an embedded reflex that persists after regularization, manifesting itself in the form of unfounded fears, anxiety, frustration and a lack of confidence in the public services, all of which tend to take some time before gradually being dissipated. These reflections and emotions recall a condition, and are intrinsically associated with their trajectories as undocumented people and the situations they experienced and feared during that period.

15The situations responsible for making regularization a lengthy or postponed project are diverse: to be cast into the status of undocumented person, it suffices to fail in complying with an administrative procedure: missing one document, one signature, having an expired date or failing one meeting; all the immigrants I interviewed were unanimous in stating that bureaucracy and waiting periods are not enablers, while on the other hand finding that there is a dissonance between official discourses and practices.

16In addressing the construction of illegality and its manifolded experience, Roberto Gonzales in “Learning to be Illegal” becomes an inevitable reference, namely the notion that "being illegal is also part of a learning process to deal with the system" (2011). According to his perspective, and considering the broadness of is macro analysis, it becomes possible to claim that learning to live in this condition is not exclusive to young immigrants; because this learning process is much wider in scope: Learning to be illegal is a comprehensive test in heterogeneity with an unquantifiable time limit, but one that must be taken in order to have a life (Vertovec, 2005), and this need to "have a life" encompasses all immigration.

17Survival in this context implies an adaptive process and a reinterpretation of the world. For example, an undocumented immigrant relates differently to borders; they are not just the fixed lines defining a given territory, but acquire mobility and are symbolically represented by other space-time delimitations, with which an immigrant must learn to "relate" during this period, implying the use of absence and invisibility in spaces that cannot, or should not, be frequented - airports, train stations, urban hubs and places where police raids are frequent (Luís, 2015).

Invisibility and emotions

18Undocumented immigrants make use of invisibility to protect themselves from compromising situations and are afraid of anyone who approaches them seeking information about their lives (Bloch et al. 2014; Luís, 2015). No one wants to be recognized as an undocumented person. An Egyptian interlocutor, who worked in a restaurant, and whom I asked to introduce me to some people, said to me:

“People don’t know you. Why would you want to talk to a stranger who wants to know why they’re undocumented? And why should people believe that you’re not the police!? If you are, you’ll know things about them, you can use that information! You have already realized that nobody wants to talk about this.”

19This quote not only illustrates participants’ unwillingness to address the issue, but also shows it is an unwelcome subject: speaking about irregularity implies a discursive acknowledgment of a condition that bears a structural weight on them or, as Negrón-Gonzales (2013) puts it, a first-hand situation which they strive to hide from themselves, making this and open agenda terrain where the greater receptiveness is not to be found on the part of interlocutors, but rather the researcher – a term I abolished during my fieldwork due to the misunderstandings it generated, being associated to all but anthropology. Thus, fieldwork through intermediation never proved to be successful. It takes some time to reach the point where the researcher ceases to be an instrument and becomes immersed. It is from this moment that speech becomes fluid. Jeffrey Sluka and Robben refer precisely this need for an "immersive role on the ground to understand another culture" (2007). This need for immersion in qualitative research requires time to get to know and become known, but often equally important, to be forgotten as an external element to this group or culture, allowing their usual practices and discourses to emerge without the mediation of a discourse construed for the researcher, giving place to is naturalization on the ground and in daily life. We can even say that we know this immersion has occurred when the terrain, its practices and discourses become visible to us from our apparent invisibility, in a kind of hybrid state where we are neither wholly researchers nor totally native. After this process of rapprochement and trust is achieved, people’s discussions around their undocumented status become cathartic, emotional and filled with questionings. As Khosravi (2010) points out, people will speak about their fears and anxieties, about this "waiting" that seems endless, revealing the psychological discomfort generated by this situation. Anxiety and anguish are always present and the whole process is perceived as being pervaded by a slowness that does not just affect their own life, but also the expectant families left behind in their countries of origin. This situation is emphasized by Anderson Joseph, as he addresses the mobility of migrants and how it aims to contribute to the economic and emotional sustenance of those who remain in migrants’ countries of origin (2020). This "waiting time" is also a time of silences and omissions, where no one wants to assume that they have exchanged their country, family and friends for an undocumented situation in Europe. In the words of Facundo (2019), it is "a wait for a legal existence”. People complain of sleeping problems, they think aloud and picture alternatives scenarios to their present situation, such as leaving Portugal, setting up a business with an already regularized friend or learning a profession. But most of their dreams never materialize in the absence of objective conditions. Many immigrants’ decision to move to Portugal has to do with the preconceived notion that here they have less bureaucracy compared to other European countries, such as Italy, Germany or England. However, they become deeply demoralized as they are quickly disabused of this notion.

20But what consequences can come from this unease and demoralization? Chiara Pussetti states that immigrants are intrinsically vulnerable, due to a variety of cumulative factors that leave them more exposed to emotional disorders, namely "the processes of insertion, linguistic and cultural barriers and the social and economic obstacles" (2010). I would like to emphasize four other relevant factors directly related to integration, as they are common to the large majority of immigrants: geographical origin, religious creed and political ideology, and often the social stratification or caste system, since they are assumed in the diaspora as important factors of identity and cohesion. In this sense we can say that the smaller the group, the greater the difficulties of integration in a network equipped to respond to multiple situations, something already mentioned by Massey (1997) and which implies that the support systems within communities with less expression are weaker, thus increasing vulnerability. The importance of ethnic support in the diaspora is also an indicator of distinction among the different trajectories. The support networks, the information available in the social media used by immigrants, offer them greater protection, even from the racial and xenophobic discourses that many immigrants face in public services. Entering a public administration office using a technical lexicon (jargon), causes the response on the other side to be more assertive. In Portugal, nationals from countries that were associated with slavery during colonialism are still those who suffer the most racist discourses, due to the different models implemented in these same colonies and the treatment local populations were subjected to, so that even today we find the traces of phenotypical and stereotypical distinctions related to geographical origin.

21Regarding vulnerability and isolation, we might refer the abundance of references to loneliness among undocumented people who are not always integrated in social networks, as well as the structural and emotional subjective effects to which Piras alludes (2016). The subject becomes recurrent when people’s narratives turn to their families, to the decision of leaving them behind in order to seek better living conditions and then finding themselves in a distant country without economic resources and as irregular citizens.

22Their insecurity and constraints imply that asking for support for any kind of problem, including emotional problems, is not a priority for these immigrants: For instance, as mentioned before, some referred to sleep problems, as well as anxiety issues or inability to enjoy their times of leisure. Rousseau and Frounfelker refer to this problem, stating that migrants with a precarious legal status are in risk of depression and anxiety disorders (2019). There are researches about the need for support in the area of refugee health, and even mental health issues have already been amply addressed; however, when it comes to the topic of undocumented immigration, we realize that it isn’t given much attention, due to the difference in scale and frame, becoming a secondary problem.

23Those who are integrated into ethnic networks, it is within those groups that they seek support and define solutions for their problems without any constraints, but making a psychiatric appointment or any kind of medical appointment is only done in situations of emergency or acute illness, anxiety or panic, often abandoning treatments before completion, mostly for fear of being referenced. But there are other motivations: many do not even have the financial resources to travel, or are not able to ask for a sick-leave at their jobs. Several immigrants whom I approached on the issue of health, for example, mentioned that they did not want to be stigmatized within their community for receiving mental health treatment, having to prove their resilience among their community. There is, however, a common discourse around a sense of inequality caused their lack of access to the same benefits as immigrants who are already regularized in the National Health Service. They mention that, even while being aware of their rights, their access to Health-Care centers is more dependent on those center’s awareness than on their own.

24For these people, talking about their undocumented status implies reminiscing, reexperiencing negative emotions that cause discomfort (Luís, 2015). Documentation is a sensitive topic, and there are occasions when no one wants to be reminded: it means rehashing an underlying distress, which everyone is constantly trying to ignore in order to lead a normal daily life. But sometimes it becomes so overwhelming that they are unable to distance themselves from the problem, as Vickram4 (single, 27 years), another of my interlocutors, confided. He had come from India, from the state of Punjab, only a year before, where he used to work in a food store with his father. When he came to Portugal, he was hired to work in the greenhouses in the Alentejo region, but with poor housing conditions and uncertain work, he decided to move to Lisbon. One day, he told me how he had spent almost two whole days obsessively using a digital translator on his mobile, trying to figure out which documents were required by the Immigration and Border Authority, all because he wanted solve his problems without asking for help. He didn’t want to look incompetent in front of his other colleagues, whose applications were already being processed. For Vickram, it was a matter of personal pride: they had all managed to do it, so he thought that revealing his ignorance about this matter was somehow disabling, showing us that linguistic barriers can bear significantly in heightening feelings of frustration, being perceived as a diminished autonomy (Luís, 2015; Ribeiro 2019). Moreover, we must take into account that these immigrants come from countries with very different models of public administration and terminology, where the practices associated with the exercise of governance vary significantly. It is very common find people asking what the Financial Services or User Card are, or what do Social Security benefits include. Thus, even today, despite all the preparatory information available, immigration implies a process of learning upon arrival; learning the local lexicon, getting acquainted with an unknown administrative apparatus that governs rights and obligations - a cumulative process even for a native citizen.

The construction of illegality

25Do these immigrants feel illegal? The simple answer is no. Illegality is a state-assigned category indicating that they are not normatively regulated. As Luibhéid says, the criminalization of undocumented immigrants is legally and politically constructed as a result of specific regimes, contexts and set of power dynamics (2008). Illegality is binomially defined with legality and is a permanent topic of discussion, since undocumented immigrants refuse to be characterized or labeled illegal, not recognizing themselves in this classification and, thus, feeling wronged by it. This illegal condition was highlighted by João (35 years old), an Angolan immigrant (a graphic artist who fled to Portugal with his wife and a son due to political persecution), who told me that he had entered the country legally, that he had done nothing illegal, but had just not been able to get the paperwork done:

“I carry my work contract in my pocket, in case anyone shows up. I pay my taxes. If I’m legal for everything else, why won’t they grant me residency?”

26This conceptualization of illegality, as well as its symbolism, is not consistent with these immigrants’ interpretation of what it means to "be regular": to be regular is to pay taxes and have a work contract.

“Why are we illegal? We contribute to the country’s economy. If I didn’t have a contract and pay my taxes, then I would be illegal. They can see that I’m doing everything right, so what are they going to do? Come up and tell me I’m illegal? I don’t have a residence card, but I work here. This is unfair, because my job is the same as my colleague who has a permit. I think for some reason we are segregated!”

27Therefore, John considered that he was regular, but without documents. This discourse is also a way of distancing themselves from the pejorative connotation with the concept of illegality.

28In this case, regularization depended on the conclusion of the application process, after submitting the Expression of Interest online, no one ever contacted him again, even after his attempts to inquire about his situation, from which all he could find out was that his process was under evaluation.

29Postponing regularization is another common situation, not as a matter of choice, but due to immigrants’ working hours and conditions. Many immigrants, even those with a contract, work twelve to fourteen hours a day in jobs where it’s hard to find substitutes, leaving them little time to deal with paperwork and attend appointments. Although immigrants will take those jobs no one wants to do, they have more difficulties entering the labor market than locals and are part of a cheap labor force based on short-term contracts and driven by necessity, whose workers are often unaware of their rights or accept precarious work paid by the day, making it difficult for them to become regularized. Certain jobs are destined for immigration - cleaning, elderly care, dishwashing and kitchen help in restaurants and cafeterias, greenhouses and generally all jobs that are considered belittling, heavy or dirty. In other words, work-places rejected by locals are occupied by immigration out of necessity and as a way to gain access to the employment contracts required for the regularization process (Lopes et al, 2019). But even for these jobs, immigrants are often faced with having to negotiate workloads and even salaries, giving rise to a new wave of modern slavery defined by Cedric Robinson (2018) as the "racialization of capitalism", whereby the construction of capital through subalternity is achieved by taking advantage of inequalities. This author considers this a perverse effect of globalization, because it facilitates exclusion processes while promoting the exploitation of illegal labor (Dupas, 2015; Facundo, 2019).

The emotional element

30In this context of precariousness, undocumented immigrants have to manage their emotional instability, oscillating between hope, discouragement and fear caused by a state-imposed condition of illegality. Strategies to regulate immigration comprise a variety of practices and procedures implemented through specific mechanisms and technologies (Esposito et al. 2020). Thus, in their relation with authorities, being undocumented implies a constant confrontation with symbolic boundaries that are constantly closed up for them for administrative reasons. When we approach the subject of regularization, undocumented immigrants speak of going to the SEF as being symbolically the same as if they were reaching the border and requesting permission to cross, when in reality they have already done so, leaving them with the feeling of a profound humiliation. This means that borders are not merely the physical gateways, but politicized delimitations, whose porosity is relative - defining who has the right to transpose it (Inda and Rosaldo, 2008), and establishing a relationship of power, but also an appraisal and recognition of those eligible, those who fulfill the criteria and have the right resources.

31For undocumented immigrants, not having the document proving their right of residence is tantamount to lacking autonomy and rights, and they repeatedly express this:

“How can I work in a country where I have no rights? But I can’t leave because I pay my contributions here.”

32They often describe their situation as "a life of waiting" (Luís, 2015), saying it wasn’t what they had expected for their lives: on the one hand they need a contract in order to become regular, but on the other hand companies will not hire while they are irregular, confining undocumented immigrants to a symbolic limbo, to a non-identitarian, non-relational and ephemeral condition; a place of non-belonging (territory) that is characterized by the labor instability, housing problems. This makes them feel unequal to work colleagues who, having successfully managed to get their Expressions of Interest approved, consider themselves integrated.

33One of my interlocutors complained that "the law is not clear" (Luís, 2015), calling it an endless cycle, realizing that the twelve months of contributions required to become legal, which he had already made, were not always. Perhaps that is why, during field work, it isn’t uncommon to come across immigrants who have been in Portugal for more than twenty years and are still irregular, despite having already been granted nationality. Much depends on the individual case; some immigrants manage to have a steady work contract and pay their contributions; others have more precarious conditions and will intercalate periods when they have a work contract with less stable jobs without contract.

34Many of my interlocutors live in overcrowded houses, since this is the only way that they can afford to pay a rent. When we talk about their living conditions, they express a desire to have their own house, a space they don’t have to share, however small, because a rented room doesn’t always actually mean a room, but is often just a bed in a place rented by the month. Therefore, the house represents well-being and bears great symbolism, of having overcome many stages: the Residence Permit, economic independence, being joined by the family and ultimately the tranquility that comes from concluding a painful process entering a new phase in their lives.

35Take the example of Marly (45 years and living with her 20-year-old son), a former NGO worker in her home town in Brazil. She was about to reach the end her contract working as a maid in Portugal and had an appointment at the SEF to renew her Residence Permit. she called me, worried that the permit might be rejected if her contract wasn’t renewed. At the end of our long conversation, she told me:

“My dream is to have a key to my own door, a room with a large and beautiful TV, beautiful sofas to receive friends. You could also come to visit me…”

36Marly knew she might become undocumented, but she continued to believe in her life as an immigrant, picturing a future embodied in the goal of having her own home.

Between remaining and returning

37One day, I was accompanying an interlocutor from Bangladesh to a public service and as we were talking, waiting to be called, he asked me: "They give you a warning, but they don’t expel you, right?" as if asking me to vouch for SEF’s positive response in cases such as his. He was searching for some kind of confirmation that would bring him a measure of tranquility. Indeed, this interlocutor repeatedly mentioned how much he liked to live here and that he didn’t want to leave.

38Leaving Europe was not a prospect he considered; but he also knew that, in order to regularize his situation, remaining in Portugal was essential. Asking for my confirmation was the same as asking me to assure his safety, revealing an underlying awareness of his situation and of the possibility of being deported, with all the consequences it would entail.

39Didier Fassin observes that certain periods in History are more prone to the increase of barriers between territories and people (2005). The creation of the Schengen area has erected external borders, despite the permeability given to its internal borders. Thus, being deported does not just imply leaving Portugal, but exiting the Schengen area and returning to the country of origin, compromising the project of searching for better conditions in another European country (Schiller, 1995).

“How does one explain to a family member that one has been deported? If that happened, I would have to return to my parents' house. I know they would welcome me, but I came to Europe because I needed to be free.”

40Freedom means autonomy and mobility, the opposite of restriction and confinement, and this was what my interlocutor feared, as a 33 years old, academically trained young man. I asked him what he meant by freedom, what kind of freedom he was referring to:

“My parents have always taken very good care of me. I am an only child, at home I have everything I need, but I do not want my parents to take care of me forever. Coming to Europe was a process of growth and it was a struggle to get here. Do you think I would now go home like this? Without having done anything with my life? That would be going backwards, changing my life for the worse. In my neighborhood everyone knows one another, they would find it strange if I came back. This may all be strange to me, but it’s always better than returning...”

41This experience of European urbanity, of freedom, evokes Arjun Appadurai’s reflections in Modernity at Large (1996) on the experience of new models of life and consumption, of this need to experience Europe. Later that day, we talked about the avenues, the monuments, the spaces in Europe where one can stroll around without bumping into someone, something that does not happen in Dhaka.

42As I have been saying, immigrants’ emotional lives are filled with contradictory feelings and evoke experiences from the past that render this period an even more distressing process, as Lechner (2007) points out; but returning is always the last option. This symbolic construction of power is also revealed in the anguish felt by immigrants when they think of returning to their place of origin, the feeling of frustration it would cause them, being exposed to friends and family in their failure to make the journey to success. Managing to remain in the countries of destination until they become regular citizens is the ultimate proof of resilience for undocumented people.

43This immigrant acknowledged that he might be better off with his family than in his present situation, but there was also strength and determination to take his journey to its conclusion with the prospect of the new life (Jackson 1991) he wanted to have in Europe. There was always this ambivalent relationship between wanting to go back and the urge to stay and keep trying.

44On the issue of return we should also consider that in patriarchal societies, the experience can be more frustrating for a man than for a woman, as for example in the case of immigrants from Southern Asia where, for cultural reasons, leaving the family is done to provide for their well-being, not to return empty-handed, so when that happens they will have to go through this social display of status downgrading and humiliation from family and friends, compared with successful cases within the diaspora and branded as failures. No immigrant wants to experience a return under these conditions, fully aware that it will discredit and infantilize them, as those who must be cared after until they return to their old routines. In this sense, we can say that emotions are also constructed according to power relations, as Hutchison (2014) points out in regard to subalternity, constituting the ability to interfere in the subjective states of the other, because, as Michelle Rosaldo observes, emotions are "incorporated thoughts" (1984) and relational. Therefore, thinking about returning becomes undesirable, not in itself, but for fear of the reactions from the family that is emotionally, and often materially, invested in this decision. As Piras points out, however, international immigration is characterized by this possibility of "transnationalizing" relations between families and geographically dispersed places, allowing a circulation of care, affections and emotions at a global level. Despite the physical distance, origin and destination (2016) are thus connected across geographical borders, bolstering undocumented immigrants’ resilience during a difficult stage of their lives, because this continued support helps them hide their difficulties.

45The entire process of regularization is assumed by immigrants as constituting a great symbolic, administrative, procedural and bureaucratic violence. The Immigration and Border Authority is a symbolic border keeping them in a limbo, where they are neither immigrants nor citizens, but a hybrid category, as if their "person" were being constructed through a bureaucratic process that will bring them a legal identity. Hence the references often found on the field to "being people" and "being a person" (Luís, 2015) a terminology that symbolically relates to the relationship between being visible or invisible, between having or lacking documents.

46Finally, for these people, having a Residence Permit is the beginning of life. A Brazilian interlocutor, referring to the Immigration and Border Authority and Residence Permits, once gave me a curious definition for border:

“It is like a gate. If you’re lucky, you go through. If you don’t, you have to try again. Almost like when you were baptized.”

47The comparison elevates the process to a mystical plane, equating it with a sacrament. Receiving a Residence Permit is so important that it becomes transcendent and filled with such symbolism that the photographs of the cards are shared on social networks and often accompanied by public thanks to God. As if obtaining this authorization did not depend on a regulatory administrative state, but on a supreme entity carefully picking out those who are administratively entitled to cross this symbolic border.

Concluding remarks

48As undocumented immigrants are not recognized by the State, they constitute a group that is subject to structural invisibility because they only acquire a legal existence when their Expressions of Interest are completed, even though it doesn’t automatically grant them any rights. However, this process can take a long time, keeping them in a situation of inequality that renders them invisible and inaudible. They learn to live with these limitations, frustrated in their expectations by a bureaucratic machine that seems impenetrable and confining.

49Many immigrants have work contracts and pay their contributions, social security and taxes, but for various reasons, cannot regularize their situation: Lack of documents, economic insufficiency, expired dates, missed appointments, jobs that condition their mobility and free time; all these factors contribute to protract the process.

50While they are undocumented, these people live a period of emotional uncertainty and vulnerability; a period riddled with anxieties and frustrations that cause a sense of deep dissatisfaction with life but also of surprise with a migratory process that does not correspond to what they had expected. Thus, their emotional life oscillates between periods of acute sadness and periods of great hope, determination and resilience.

51Emotions are of great importance in this journey, because they are expressions embodied in the experiences of the individual, and part of what Lutz and White (1986) describe as a dialogical act, which cannot be dissociated from immigrants’ discourses, because they are constantly present, or embodied, as pointed out by Rosaldo (1984), and expressed in the symbolism acquired through dialogue (Abu-Lughod and Lutz 1990). Thus, to dissociate the emotions from the narratives of undocumented people would be to disregard a major part of what is shared regarding a situation of great embarrassment on which their entire future depends.