By virtue of my being Colombian I have to, in the next week, do the following: register with the police department of London AND go to a government health center to have an x-ray of my chest taken-- so that city authorities can make sure I don't have tuberculosis. Hmmm. Something about checking immigrants for TB feels very nineteenth century. I wonder if I'll have to cough onto a crisp, white handkerchief as part of the test. I'm picturing Mimi's blood-flecked handkerchief in La Boheme.
Below a cute stuffed-animal rendition of the bacteria that causes tuberculosis.
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