Adventures In Homeland Security

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DAY 502 (Part 1; 501 days since last U.S.A. entry): Although the category for this Blog entry is “U.S.A.”, our story begins in Toronto, Canada, which is okay I guess, considering it was there that I had to clear U.S. Immigration and Customs formalities before my “domestic” connecting flight into the States.  As much as Canadians hate to hear it, Toronto is pretty much an American city anyway (just with funny accents); in fact, it’s the ranked the second busiest American port of entry (after Miami) by the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.

I had just about an hour to switch terminals, get my bags, and clear U.S. entry formalities, a process I had long-dreaded—as a matter of fact, I intentionally went from Indonesia to Singapore to Canada first, to decrease my chances of being a suspected terrorist flying directly from Muslim Jakarta with a beat-up U.S. passport that had already been suspected of being fake in Argentina and Egypt.  As everyone knows, airport security has been tight ever since Nine Eleven, and even the night before when I boarded the Vancouver-to-Toronto flight, I was detained at the security check.

“He has a clamp in his bag,” one Canadian security officer said to another.

“Okay, show me the clamp,” I was instructed, at the table next to the metal detector gate where my electronics were soon swabbed for explosive material.  I did as I was told and revealed the harmless “iClamp” that squeezed the side of my iBook together so the screen wouldn’t dim due to a faulty logic board.

“You can’t bring this.  It’s a tool,” the officer said.

“But I need it to use my computer,” I argued.  “Here, I’ll show you.”

He wouldn’t let me demonstrate.  “You have to send it or check it in.”

“Oh, but I was going to work on my computer on the plane.”

The other officer came over.  “You can check it in with another bag.  Or you can put it in storage.”

“Can I?”

“Yeah, you can store it.  When are you coming back?”

“I’m not.  I’m an American going back home.”

“It’s a dollar a day here.”

“Huh?  Oh, I thought you meant storage on the plane.”

“No.”

What the hell is going on? I thought.  National security is threatened by a 50-cent clamp I bought in India?  There aren’t any sharp edges!  It’s not like I have a bomb; it’s not like I want to blow up the plane.  Wait, can I even say “bomb” at an airport?  Sure I can, I’m just thinking this in italics.  Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb ba bomb!  Wait, are they going to arrest me now?

All the commotion was holding up the line and the supervisor came over to see what the problem was.  “[What’s the problem here?]”

“He has this.”

“Just take it on board,” the supervisor said under her breath.  “But don’t bring it out on the plane.”

“Okay.”

“KEEPING AMERICA’S DOORS OPEN AND OUR NATION SECURE,” was the slogan for the US-VISIT program on a sign posted by the U.S. immigration counters in Toronto.  I got on line with my bags by my feet, passport and boarding pass in hand, and waited behind the line until it was my turn.  Also with me was my immigration form with very limited space on “Countries visited.” I just put the last four.

“How long have you been away?” the officer asked.

“Sixteen months.  Well, sixteen and a half.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Just backpacking around… and I’m finally home.  Well, Canada.”

He was a good-natured fellow and went through standard procedure of swiping my passport through the reader and pushing a bunch of buttons on a computer.  Looks like it’s gonna be easier than I thought.  Being American with an American passport does have its advantages sometimes.  Alright, U.S.A.!  U.S.A.!  U.S-- wait a minute, why’s he putting my passport in a folder?

“Take this and go through the door on the right.”

D’oh!

The U.S. interrogation office was a sterile and boring looking place—think hospital meets DMV without the long lines—and it was there I was led to a counter manned by one Officer Mektar (sp?) who continued to question me on my supposed return to the States.

“How long have you been away?” he asked.

“Sixteen and a half months.”

“Doing what?”

“Just backpacking around.”

“Where did you go?”

“[Actually, more than what’s written there; there was no room, so I just put the last four.  Hmmm… Okay, the short version:  four months in South America, four months in Africa, a month in Europe, then I took the train from Moscow to Beijing, then China for a month, Japan, then Nepal, India, Thailand, and sort around southeast Asia for a while.]”

“Must be nice.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“What company do you work for?”

“Uh, I was laid off,” I told him.  The officer started getting a suspicious look in his eye.

“Then what company were you working for?”

“This company called ACTV.”

“And what did that stand for?”

“Uh, it didn’t stand for anything.” Shady, but the truth.

“And how old are you?”

“Thirty.  Yeah, I know, I look young.”

“And I assume you’re not married?”

“No.”

“And what are you going to do when get back?”

“Uh, look for work.” Good answer, good answer.

Another federal employee came over looking quite beat from being overworked with security issues.  She came over to see if she could help out.  “Smile, it’s Friday,” I told her to brighten up their day and soften my character.

“Uh, we work weekends.  It could be Tuesday for us.”

Okay then. Just then, there was another guy beside me, waiting his turn.

“You take that one, this one will be a while,” Officer Mektar told the other.

A while? I thought.  “How long is this going to take?”

“[Just a moment.  The system keeps shutting me out.]”

“Uh, my flight’s at 7:15.” (It was 6:55.)

Officer Mektar looked at his watch and hesitated a bit before reluctantly saying, “You’ll make it.” The system kicked in and I was registered—probably flagged as a person to keep an eye on in the country—and then was led for a quick X-ray of my bags.  “Okay, you’re free to go.”

I rushed over to the bag check-in and then to find my gate, but still had to go through the carry-on security.  They stopped me, not for my the iClamp this time (since I wisely stored it back in my big bag), but to check out my computer and such, which I showed them in haste.  “Am I gonna make my flight?”

“We have nothing to do with that.”

I packed up and ran down the hall before realizing it was the wrong one.  It didn’t matter because when I finally found my gate, it was already too late.

“Your plane just left,” said the woman at the gate counter.  “Where were you?  We were waiting for you.” They had paged me on the P.A. system, but I don’t think there were any speakers in the U.S. interrogation room. 

“I was delayed by the U.S. government.”

She saw my passport.  “But you’re American.”

“I know!”

“Must be the hat,” her co-worker said.  I was wearing my wool-knit hat from Peru. 

“You have to take the next flight.”

“When is that?”

“Boarding at 10:45.”

“And arrives...?”

“One o’clock.”

“What about my bag?”

“[If you didn’t make that flight, they wouldn’t have been able to fly with it—it’s the law—so don’t worry, it’s still here.  If you’re on the next flight, it will be re-routed on that one.]”

“Okay.”

And so, the plans I had that morning back in the States were shot since I had no choice but to spend most of the morning waiting around in Toronto (picture above), stranded at the airport like in The Terminal, just not as long.  I spent the time drinking coffee to keep myself awake from the lack of good sleep on the red-eye the night before, until it was time to board my final flight of The Global Trip 2004, to my next, but not final, destination.  Unfortunately, as I found out later, my bag did not make that same flight in the connection delay fiasco, courtesy of the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.  I guess it was sort of ironic; after sixteen months around the world, the first and only time my baggage was ever lost was at the very end, back in America.


Next entry: Homestretch, U.S.A.

Previous entry: Preparing For Re-Entry



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This blog entry about the events of Friday, March 04, 2005 was originally posted on March 15, 2005 on the blog, "The Global Trip 2004: Sixteen Months Around The World (Or Until Money Runs Out, Whichever Comes First)," hosted by BootsnAll.com. It is one of over 500 entries that chronicled a trip around the world from October 2003 to March 2005, encompassing travel through thirty-seven countries in North America, South America, Africa, Europe, and Asia. It was this blog that "started it all," where Erik evolved and honed his style of travel blogging. (It starts to come into focus around the time he arrives in Africa.)

Praised and recommended by USA Today, RickSteves.com, and readers of BootsnAll and Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree, The Global Trip blog was selected by the editors of PC Magazine for the "Top 100 Sites You Didn't Know You Couldn't Live Without" (in the travel category) in 2005.





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