Adventure?
So I’ve had my adventure…I took a bus, got on a plane, was kept for five hours in a detainment center, I got on another plane, and i was sent back to Chicago.
What has this taught me?
You can’t always get what you want in life.
I was so happy when I woke up on the 18th of April 2010. The sun was shining and I knew that I was about to embark on a journey to see the person I truly love.
After not having seen Craig in over a year, seeing him on the 29th of April would have been one of the best things to happen to me in months.
I was all packed up, I’d made plans and said my goodbyes, I’d gotten on the bus to the Train station that would be taking me to O’Hare. I was completely confident that I was going to not be seeing my sister or family again for a long time.
At the train station I said goodbye to my sister and boarded the train that zoomed in a minute after my sister was no longer in site. This was 2:40.
I rode the train to it’s last stop arrived at O’Hare airport around 3:30. I followed the numerous crowds to the maps and terminal boards and I discovered that the international airport is where most planes going to the uk were taking off from…I headed via the airport transit to terminal 5.
I had a hard time dealing with my baggage and I was desperate to find my airport terminal so I’d be able to check my luggage in.
When I arrived at Terminal 5 after travelling via airport railway car. I looked around and discovered that BMI didn’t work with Chicago’s O’Hare airport. I asked a nice Hispanic gentleman for help in locating my check in gate. He clarified to me that my ticket was for bmi but through United Airlines. So I was to get back on the airport train to head back to terminal 1.
I headed back to terminal 1 and located the United Airlines check in area for international flights. I stood in line for nearly a half an hour waiting for others to get their bags checked.
I got to the check in area and the woman went through the procedure to get my bag all checked in till it got to Edinburgh.
“Strange,” She said ” I can’t print your boarding passes through for all your flights, you’re going to have to recheck in when you get to London Heathrow”
“Does that mean that I’ll have to recheck my checked bag?” I asked
“No that only means you need to get another ticket from the BMI counter when you get to London.” She answered.
I was relieved that so far everything was going smoothly. Because my bag was overweight by 10pounds and because I wanted to avoid being charged 200$ for the extra weight I unzipped one of my vacuum sealed bags and I half emptied it till I got to the required baggage weight. I redistributed my belongings emptied into my carry on bag and I continued through Chicago’s airport security where I had no problems what so ever. ( no Liquids or drugs)
While sitting in Gate C20 which was going to begin board in 20 minutes I started blogging about how excited I was to be heading to Scotland.
So it’s happened again.I’m sitting in a gate no my way to London’s heathrow airport and I’m the only black person around.What’s with black people when it comes to going to the uk? Are they afraid?!I really hope I don’t get stuck again by immigration and miss my flight. I have a one hour delay when I get to Heathrow to get through immigration.So far so good after Tiffany gave me some words of advice at the top of the ramp at the airport I got on the right train that was label O’Hare airport. The train was easy to figure out because I knew that my stop would be the last.When I arrived at the airport I asked for help to find my check in area, I was directed to the international part of the Airport first in terminal 5 but then I realized that BMI didn’t have a terminal in Chicago’s international and I asked someone else for help.The other man looked at my printed itenerary and told me to head back to terminal 1…on the complete other side of the airport. When I got to the international section of the United Airlines part I had to wait in line for 40 minutes because there were people who were fighting over“So it’s happened again.
I’m sitting in a gate on my way to London’s Heathrow airport and I’m the only black person around.
What’s with black people when it comes to going to the uk? Are they afraid?!
I really hope I don’t get stuck again by immigration and miss my flight. I have a one hour delay when I get to Heathrow to get through immigration.
So far so good after Tiffany gave me some words of advice at the top of the ramp at the airport I got on the right train that was label O’Hare airport. The train was easy to figure out because I knew that my stop would be the last.
When I arrived at the airport I asked for help to find my check in area, I was directed to the international part of the Airport first in terminal 5 but then I realized that BMI didn’t have a terminal in Chicago’s international and I asked someone else for help.
The other man looked at my printed itenerary and told me to head back to terminal 1…on the complete other side of the airport. When I got to the international section of the United Airlines part I had to wait in line for 40 minutes because there were people who were fighting over…”
I didn’t get to finish my blog because the woman announced that they would begin boarding. I looked at my ticket…Seat 31A…not too bad considering when I booked the flight months ago I’d asked for a window seat and they said I couldn’t get one.
I sat waiting to see who I’d be sitting next to in anticipation. The guy I ended up sitting next to was a guy named Joe Meyer. He was a Chemist from Canada who for the last couple of years had lived and worked in Bristol in the UK about an hour’s bus ride outside of Wales. He told me how he had been traveling from Canada where he was doing an interview for an assistant professor position. His voice had been soothing to me because it was familiar, we talked and laughed and shared stories of our adventures. We talked about baseball and my fear of immigration and he assured me that everything would be okay. He made me feel safe and I wish I’d asked him if he has a facebook because I think we could have been good friends outside of just being travel buddies.
Here’s a video of me on the plane and he’s talking to me…I didn’t film him because I thought that would be rude but you can tell that the conversation was going well.
When we got off the plane Joe and I were right next to each other…I couldn’t figure out how to say goodbye to this friend I’d made on the plane. The London airport works like this…if you are leaving the airport follow the yellow signs, if you are taking a connecting flight follow the purple signs. Joe and I parted ways when these lines split and up to that moment I was completely confident that the next man who’d make me smile and laugh would be my dear Craig. I remember thinking to myself ’Craig would really like what Joe does for a living,’ Joe had explained it all to me on the plane, he created nanotechnology using polymers, chemicals and plastics.
He said that the chemicals used can make the metals and gears assembled themselves…complete self assembly, and he said that he’d been working on ways to make technology smaller and better. I thought it was really cool.
When I got into the line there were two gentlemen who were asking questions.
But the line was so long that a third woman came out and started her own booth, she called me because I was the next in line. She asked me simple questions like…what was I doing in Scotland, What was I…I said a student but that I was between schools. She asked me where I worked and I said I had worked at Target Greatland till March of 2010. She asked me if I’d ever been to Scotland I said yes, she asked me how long I’d been there and I said from December 2009 to January 2010. Everything was working out just fine. She looked at my passport and asked me about it’s water damage and I told her about the bike trip I’d taken to Duluth were the passport had been in my pocket and it’d gotten stoking wet.
I looked around and realized that I was the only one still left in line, then my stomach turned…why was she asking me all these questions. She asked me to show her my ticket, after some fumbling through my netbook case I finally retrieved my ticket stub.
After handing it to her she asked me if I’d ever had my passport lost or stolen. I told her yes that I’d lost it on my last trip to Scotland and that I’d retrieved it a little bit of time later.
Then she asked me to sit down on one of the benches…and I just knew she was going to detain me. She asked me who I was going to be visiting, I said my boyfriend Craig and maybe my friend Jade. She asked me how long I was in a relationship with both of them, I said with Craig about 7 years in July, and I said with Jade about two years in June. She asked me where I met my boyfriend, I said we were introduced by a mutual friend and we were pen pals for a really long time. Then she asked me for numbers. I’d written Craig, Ron, Claire McCreath and my mom’s contact information down on a piece of paper while I’d been waiting on the plane. I showed her the sheet and she took it and said that I should wait on the bench more while she went and received further information. She handed me a sheet that I’d recognized and seen before the last time I was detained when I’d last tried to make a trip to Scotland through Ireland and someone had detained me. It was like a receipt that says “I am detaining you, you have no rights while you are between countries.”
I sat out there from 9:05 am till 9:45 am when a mean looking indian man came out and after pronouncing my name wrong asked me to join him. He led me to the back and while we walked I corrected the pronunciation of my name for him. Then I ask him why I was being detained. He didn’t answer me and he told me to set my bags down and to follow him into a back room. I did and even said thank you when he opened the doors for me. He walked me past three people, a young Indian man, a goth looking girl and a friendly looking man in a suit. I knew this was the detainment center. The girl looked as if she’d been crying for hours. The two other men didn’t look like they spoke English very well. The Officer told me that the drink machine was free and I was led into a dark backroom. There was camera equipment and I asked the man for his name, he said it was Mr. Perez and I asked him why I’d been stopped he gave me a sheet with my name printed on it that said that I’d been detained because of the immigration Act of 1961 Paragraph 17 section 2. I asked what that was and he said it was exactly that pretty much yelling at me at the time.
He told me that I had no rights and that I’d be interviewed and reviewed, He took my fingerprints and picture. Then he said that I hadn’t pleased my immigration officer and I was being put up for review.
I was interviewed by the same woman Vanessa Little who had originally interviewed me. She told me she would write down everything I said, She told me that she thought I’d lied to her because my boyfriend had told her different information. I told her the truth.
She asked me if I was planning on permanently moving to the UK I told her that this first trip was just to get my bearings and that after July I’d make my move permanent. She told me that Craig had told her that I was considering moving to the UK and studying, I said that I hadn’t been accepted to any university yet but I was considering it. She asked me how I would be able to afford it, I said Scholarships, Working, and help from family (the usual). She asked me about if I’d received or applied for a work permit. I said no, I had tried to apply online but I was going to try to do that again officially once I got to Scotland.
She asked me why I wasn’t living with my boyfriend and I said because I’m a Christian and I didn’t believe in living with my boyfriend because it wouldn’t be healthy at this point in our relationship.
She asked me if I had anything to add: I said that I was only trying to see my boyfriend, I don’t understand why I was stopped because I haven’t done anything wrong, I didn’t intend to enter the country and do anything wrong and I hope that this whole thing could just end so I could just get on a plane to see my boyfriend who was waiting for me in Scotland.
She asked me if I was well…I said yes, then she asked me to sign my statement.
After my interview which she said she’d written down word for word she asked me if there was anything I’d have amended.
Well she told me that she had to go to an immigration deputy to present my case to him/her and that when she got back she would be telling me if I would be deported or sent on my way.
During the hours that I waited I tried to comfort a girl from California who had come to England for an unpaid internship with a fashion designer and had not had a work/ volunteer visa. She’d had a better plan than me and she was named Kailee, as soon as I saw that Kailee had been deported I knew that I’d be next. But I wasn’t next, I was last and I watched as one after another people who were brought in were interviewed and put on planes back home. I tried to relax and I told myself I would be strong and I wouldn’t cry like I did last time. I asked for a phone card which I could use to call my family and Craig and tell them what was going on. There was only one phone and it cost 3 dollars a minute. When I got on the phone I called my mom about 10 times and she never answered, I left her messages every time.
Then I called Tiffany but didn’t get her at all. Then I called Craig and left him messages.
When the woman came back in she gave me “the bad news” and I knew what she was going to say before she said it. I asked her why, and she said that she thought i didn’t have enough money. The thing that upset me the most about this is that she’d never asked me for my bank account information, She’d simply assumed I hadn’t had enough based on what she’d seen in my hand. When I asked her why she hadn’t asked me for my bank account information she said that she only would work with the information and “facts” Given to her.
When I asked to read my statement and for a copy of it I realized that she’d only written down information that was incriminating,
“Has no job and isn’t looking for work”
“Couldn’t afford school so she left”
“Has not the funds for school and need assistance from others”
“Hasn’t gotten a plan for where she will be living and hasn’t paid any deposit on a place yet”
“Doesn’t have more than 400$ available to her”
They were all lies. I went through and tried to clarify everything she’d written wrongly …she said that she’d given me the opportunity to amend her statement and that I’d turned it down.
I’d only turned it down because I’d trusted her when she’d said that she’d write my statement down word for word.
She’d lied and only presented evidence that had made me look bad.
What a fucking downright BITCH SHE WAS.
Vanessa Little needs to burn in hell. She ruined my vacation.
They took away my issuing papers and let me make 1 phone call before they escorted me to my plane back.
I’d asked if I could refund my ticket to Scotland and she said “The airline can only guarantee that you get you ticket, they can’t guarantee that you will be accepted into the country, they can’t refund you.”
I was so upset, yet I didn’t cry… the system was flawed and after experiencing it twice I knew that I was being discriminated against.
There is so much more to this I need to explain, the people who searched me and offered me tea and coffee told me that they saw this all the time…people who have done nothing being sent home because the immigration officer wanted to feel that they’ve ‘done their jobs’
The confiscated my passport and took me to my flight, they told me that i’d be being sent back to Chicago and not Minnesota because that’s where I’d started off from.
I couldn’t believe the whole thing…I was so upset and I kept thinking about Craig and where we’d be if we’d been together.
When I got on the plane I was escorted to my seat 30k United Airlines to CHICAGO.
I was strong until a woman came and sat down right next to me…she asked me if I was alright because I’d looked like I’d been crying…my eyes were red but I hadn’t shed a tear…then the waterworks came.
And from then to the time I got to Chicago I remember only crying and sleeping. Every time I woke on the plane I’d be able to compose myself more and the crying got harder to do.
They thought I was crazy and the flight attendants kept coming by and offering the woman next to me another seat.
The woman who was from Russia said no…she told me a story instead about her experience with German immigration where she’d been taken to a dungeon and left there for two days.
It was a good story and it made me feel a little better.
She was like a grandma or a mother and I was greatful she’d stayed with me.
When I got back to MN, I was still crying but a little better, I was escorted by two American officers to the baggage and security terminals and they arranged for me to be taken home on a mn flight.
It was a lot of money so I decided to try to get ahold of Tiffany again.
The American officers only searched my bag and told me that I couldn’t do anything about my situation but try to apply for another visa and passport and to try again.
They made me feel more relaxed when they told me that this happened to them everyday…people being sent home who didn’t deserve it, they said it broke their hearts.
They were nice to me when I needed it and when I called my mother on the phone cards I’d bought in the UK this time in Chicago, she answered and for the first time I was able to tell her I was deported…she panicked of course but for some reason I was calm and collected.
I’d been like a statue perfectly still with tears falling for eight hours. And I was calm and collected.
I called Tiffany and she told me to retrace my steps back to her place via train and bus.
When I figured that Out I got to the train and off the bus and she was waiting for me. I was exhausted.
Everyone was so happy around me my whole trip back and it was so upsetting to watch them when I felt like I could jump in front of a train or a bus.
I contemplated suicide and how it would end my pain. I thought of Craig and when I would be able to see him again…I thought of him waiting for me and if he’d figured it all out yet.
I wondered if he’d cried I i’d cried or if the immigration people had called him to tell him I wasn’t coming.
I got back to my sisters place and I answered my emails, talked to my mother and read an angry blog that Craig had written.
He’d gotten my message after all…that is good because I could hear my voice as it had been before my tears had come…I sounded stronger than I’d been thinking or I felt.
I remember that they had told me that they’d thought that I’d been lying to them about my intentions for the UK.
I hadn’t lied to them at all…they’d told me that my boyfriends story and mind hadn’t been the same…and I felt betrayed by my boyfriend…But I realized it wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t mine. It was the stupid immigration’s fault with their attitude that they are like God and above all laws.
They are not above the police and I plan on filing complaints against all those who I met who weren’t fair to me in this process.
I’m not going to let this discourage my traveling in the future.
I just know that the next time I head to the UK I’m going to make sure that I’m traveling with Craig, I think he’d be my ticket out of all of this because he is the perfect representative for me. He fits the profile: White, male, early twenties with an accent. With him no one would mess with me.
I think also that next time I’m going to pick a male immigration officer and not a female. I can flirt with a male more than a female…so that I can “please him”…
I remember seeing two girl just get waved through because they were young and sexy and they’d looked like super models. They’d all but winked at the immigration officer they were talking with.
It’s a flawed and stupid System…and as much as I’d imagined Craig waiting for me at that Gate in Chicago, having figured out that I’d been deported and having flown to meet me and get there before me…I knew that that would never happen and I know now that it didn’t.
Craig.
You have to come see me because I have tried and I have failed and I love and miss you dearly.
Please come rescue me because I’ve lost all my marbles and I don’t know how to fit these puzzle pieces of my life together without you.
You complete me.
So what have I learned:
I can’t do this on my own.
And I have grown from my experience and I am not afraid of it anymore I am a survivor.
Who?