Czech Out The Dirt on Vas
Most D.C. restaurateurs knew him simply as “Vas,” but at Washington-area farmer’s markets he was known as Pennsylvania farming powerhouse Mark Toigo’s right-hand man at Toigo Orchards. Unfortunately, what should have been a quick trip home to the Czech Republic and visa renewal for food fixture Vaclav "Vas" Trnka became a messy citizenship fiasco.
It all started back in the late 1990s, when Vas lived with the American embassy’s chef in Prague, picking up catering stints from restaurant tycoons and hearing talk of opportunities in America. A few stacks of paperwork later, Vas found himself working for the esteemed Toigo on his farm in Shippensburg, Pa. But Vas wasn't a farmer in the barefoot, Steinbeckian-sense. He was an operations guy. Even on relatively little English, Vas progressively wore more and more hats in the professional venture, and, according to Toigo, “was the only person to ever come through this operation who embraced every facet of the responsibilities.”
For five years, Vas woke up at 5 a.m., orchestrating weekly trips from Toigo Orchards to the Washington-metro area. He learned the eccentricities of the Toigo Orchards' 17 different types of peaches. He befriended superstar chefs such as Ris Lacoste over chats about that week’s drupe supply.
On the verge of Vas' returning to the States after his yearly trip home to Prague in spring 2005 to take care of business (cough, get his guest worker’s visa renewed), a few disapproving officials at the U.S. Consulate in Prague decided not to give Vas clearance to come back. There he was, stuck more than 4,000 miles away with just his laptop and a few personal items -- his life (and girlfriend) waiting for him back in Washington.
Vas was trapped. Grand appeals were made to the American Embassy by everyone who knew Vas. As soon as word reached Toigo's D.C. customers, e-mails, phone calls and legal documents went flying. Washingtonians wanted him back so much that the big men on the Hill got involved. Both Senate and Congressional offices placed calls. As a personal favor to Toigo, Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell even got the American Consulate General on the horn. Still no dice. The sweat and heaps of appeals fell on deaf ears. Nobody, not friends, well-connected friends, or potential future Presidential candidate friends, had the power to overturn the decision of the newly appointed Consular General in Prague.
The Consulate’s argument was premised on a certain clause in the immigration laws allowing the interviewing office to decline visa approval if the candidate has “no ties to his own country.” A funny line of thinking in light of the fact that Vas faithfully returned to the Czech Republic every year, spending three months with his mother and two sisters. It didn’t matter how much Vas was loved in the States; Prague diplomats apparently made the rules.
Now a year later, Vas is working in real estate in Prague, where he happened to run into a wayward DCist correspondent. Vas rolls his eyes with a heavy grin and calls the mess “all just a big fight with the embassy people.” But it's no doubt something broader. These days, lawmakers are wrestling with a difficult immigrant labor issue of which Vas' story is one of many. Indeed, the District is preparing for what could be "the largest demonstration by immigrants ever held in this country,” which will take place Monday at the Washington Monument, according to WTOP.
A return to Toigo Orchards may not be in his stars, but you never know what Vas has up his sleeve—or what the U.S. government has up its sleeve, as the immigration dispute festers in Washington. Toigo—who advocates guest-worker visas to help in “saving the family farms”—says that the loss of Vas has crippled his operations.
For now, Vas will continue to sleep-in and stroll into the RE/MAX office on the late side—they know not to expect him before 10 a.m. But extra rest aside, he longs for the 18-hour days back on the farm and field trips spent market-hopping with Toigo. What's more, there are no farm-fresh heirloom tomatoes and pulpy stone fruit in the Czech Republic.