* The Story of The Girl & The Stars *

Thursday, May 29, 2008

* Passport Control *

The un-necessary encounter with Passport control.

For the past two weeks all I've been able to talk about is going to Utah, and, for those of you on facebook witnessing my status updates, what I am drinking.

Well right now I am drinking Peppermint and elderflower tea, while I sit on a bed which is drapped with the most patriotic quilt I have ever seen. It is all red and white stripes, with white stars. Yes, I am in the United States, Yes, I am in the republican state of Utah.

Getting here, however, was quite the ordeal. Unlike the last time I flew I was in quite a bright mood, wide awake and raring to go when my Mum dropped me off at the airport.

Off I went for another adventure (dragging my pink and black Leopard print suitcase too. Amazing). From Glasgow I flew to Amsterdam(n it) and then onwards to Minneapolis St Pauls.

The long haul flight took around 8 hours, so when I arrived in Minneapolis I had been awake for 15 hours already, and I was just thankful to be standing and moving. I was accompanied by a new friend: a large german man that had travelled a lot and who lived in munich - we had my love of Munich in common. We were waiting in the passport control line while a beagle went around sniffing everyone's bags.

Then security opened all the queues up for visitors to the US. My German friend legged it to the opposite end of the hall to wait in another queue. I stayed where I was. The saddest part about this story is that I thought I would get to say my parting words to that German when we went to collect our baggage. Little did I know I would never get to see him again.

After another 10 minutes of waiting I decided to join another queue and then I became the last person in that queue. My biggest mistake.

I was called forward and asked my purpose in the United states, I said pleasure and when questioned about the last time I was here informed the man it was 6 months ago. He then proceeded to take my photograph and finger prints and then after a few more questions and when I told him I was a Latter-day Saint (mormon) he handed me all my documents back and told me to follow the green line of death to be questioned further.

I had to take a ticket like I was waiting in Clarks shoe shop to be measured and given the correct pair of shoes for my feet.

The numbers were called one after the other, and I was just terrified at this point.

I was called forward by this short angry Mexican looking man who proceeded to write down everything I said, continuously asked me if I had a boyfriend and wouldn't believe me that I would be allowed a 'break from work'.

I failed round two and then was brought into a tiny room and asked even more questions, over and over again. I had to give the man my entire life history, tell him how I managed to be a Scottish Latter-day Saint, tell him about everything I had ever done in the United States.

With eveything I told him he would just keep asking 'is that your boyfriend? did you work at that wedding?' Yeah, I payed £400 for a flight to California to work at a wedding for 10 days.

Sincerly. It just made no sense whatsoever. He was cleary lacking in common sense. Someone sneaking into his country planning to do illegal things will have a back up story that they have rehearsed. Their story will not sound as flakey as mine. Mine truely just kept sounding weaker and weaker.

It was horrific.

on the first occasion that the man lef the room I sat there and just put my head in my hands and tried so hard not to, but I did end up shedding a tear. I didn't want to show weakness in the face of the tiny man with too much power, but when he came back it was obvious by my red eyes that I had been leaking from my eyeballs.

Then he said 'Don't cry, you'll make me cry' SHUT UP. You're the one keeping me here, for no good reason.

His boss that looked not too far away from an ugly version of this guy demanded that I get my luggage. Once I got it they proceeded to ask me to remove all the money I owned, then they took everything my handbag, backpack and suitcase. Took it all. They asked if there was anything sharp or dangerous and I said 'my scalpel happy finding' to which they said 'why do you need a scalpel' and I was like to do art things. Spanners. Like a scalpel would be a genuine artifact of prosecution, well it would be in a murder trial of the victim had be scalpeled to death.

So off my luggage went and the questions continued. My questioner kept saying things 'You see where I'm coming from though, you come once and you make friends, then you came again and make more friends, then you make more friends. You see?'

No actually I don't. Is it a crime to have friends.

Another thing he said was 'if you were just coming to minneapolis you would have been fine.' Why? because aparantley Utah is just so teaming with illegal scottish immigrants.

There was not much I could say to plead my case. I just had to keep answering every question honestly, telling him names, telling him everything I knew about anything. Repeating things over and over, watching him blow things out of proportion. So what? I've been in the states 4 times in 4 years and this is my fifth. How is that a crime.

I have no idea.

The thing is, if I had lied I would have been out there in seconds, If I had been travelling with other people or I knew no one in Utah I would have been out in seconds.

But no.

two hours.

The man that confiscated my luggage came back with my bottle of astragulus and was like 'what's that' Seriously. and then he came back with my laptop and demanded I turn it on. The other man was like 'I'm going to read your emails, get them for me'

Only because I had mac mail would this plan work. Shoot.

They proceeded to read my emails without me knowing which ones. I could hear them mutter words and then they would ask who certain people were and how I knew them and if they were my boyfriend. SERIOUSLY. I don't have an effin' boyfriend. Deal with it.

I was starting to get frustrated at that question.

Then the wee man was like, well I think you're okay, but I need to talk to my boss.

He came back and he was like, this decision is up to me, and I think you told the truth. So I'm going to let you in.

'but remember that you are a pretty girl so there might be people out there that would want to marry you, strange men out there.'

Prior to this remark about my looks, in response to one of my replies that went like 'I just like meeting people, I've even liked meeting you - it's an experience' he said 'I've liked meeting you too, perhaps under different circumstances.'

SERIOUSLY.

his mean boss told me to repack all my things, everything had changed bags, and I felt so defiled and voilated my things were just in a mess.

When I unpacked here in Utah I began to understand the magnitude of their search. They read my notebooks, journals, daily planner/diary. I just think this kind of treatment is unacceptable. What are they honestly looking to find? An essay I wrote about how i plan on moving to the US illegally? Because one doesn't exist, because I don't plan on doing anything illegal.

The most terrifying thing ever, and it totally puts me off ever wanting to come back here. Their economy is in dissary and so is Britain's, yet, I choose to spend my wages in the states and not the UK. How is that a crime. They should be thankful for my custom.

They let me go though, and it wasn't on a plane back home, so I had to be thankful for that.

As I wheeled my stuff up to customs and handed the white form over I was like 'Oh looks like I beat the queue' haha. Trying to make light of my tragic ordeal.

Then I spent the next ten minutes talking to the security staff who were so lovely. They knew why I was so delayed, and they were just so nice, and so cheery. One of them even took my bording pass and found my gate number.

I made my connection. I'm so greatful that I had a couple of hours as a lay over.

I had no idea if my bag would make it, and as I told Marcus McBride (who is not my boyfriend) when he picked me up, the lady at the boarding desk told me that there was no way to track my bag and I would find out when I got to Salt Lake if it had made it.

On my arrival I was bouncing off the walls and so Marcus and I hit the outlet malls at Park City for 30 minutes. It was amazing because I had been awake for 25 hours and my speech was slurred and I kept spoonerising everything.

When I got to the home of the people I was staying with and told them of my difficulty getting into the country they proceeded to talk about writing to the senator to complain.

Like it will do much good, they're just going to say that innocent people get caught in the crossfire. That is the American way isn't it? As long as they get the bad guy it doesn't matter how many innocent people they terrorise on their path to success.

posted by: Vikki Miller @ 9:04 AM

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