I just reach back to Wales after spending a week in ameriKKKa where I went to see my lil brudda getting married in Boston. I almost didn't make it into the U.S., here is what happened...
As I come through the immigration line at Logan International Airport, Boston, the square-jawed cowboy-looking nazi at the desk tells me to come downstairs with him after a glance at my passport. I follow him down there to the interrogation area I guess you would call it, where I have to sit for two hours with no explanation of what's happening, the Homeland Security guys are just sitting there tap-tap-tapping away on their laptops and asking me the occasional question. They didn't allow me to make a phonecall to my parents and brother to explain why I didn't meet them at the airport (eventually my folks called into customs and immigration figuring I was detained there, as my dad, a white guy from Wales, has been getting similarly detained every time he comes into ameriKKKa because he has the same name as somebody on some list.)
Eventually the Homeland Security guys tell me what the deal is; they claim that back in 1995 I supposedly overstayed a visitor's visa by three months. Now (1) nothing didn't happen so; I remember my encounters with I.N.S. in 1995 clearly, because they told me to leave the country after I had unsuccesfully applied for an H1B1 work visa, they sent me a letter telling me to leave the country within 20 days if I wanted to retain legal status for future visa applications, which I did, well within the 20 day period they specified in their letter. Meanwhile the organization I had been working for raised money on my behalf for a lawyer and applied for an H1B1 on my behalf, which was eventually succesful, and I returned to the U.S. under an H1B1 work visa in 1996, which leads to point number (2) I had been in and out of the U.S. under work visas and a student visa at least six times since 1995, with no problems. (3) Even if I had overstayed a visa, it allegedly happened 10 years ago and I had been in and out of the country many times since then. (4) I was only coming to ameriKKKa for one week this time, to see my lil brudda get married, I had a return ticket, I had taken a week off work to come to the wedding, a ticket that I had spent my hard-earned money for, I had a job to return to in Britain, I had no reason to try to sneak into their blasted country.
Well none of this made any difference to the Homeland Security guys (although I could tell one of them knew this was wrong, but didn't want to go against his supervisor and lose his job or whatever- this guy, I found out later, was helpful to my parents and brother, telling them which supervisors to call and which not to call and the right extensions to reach them quickly,etc... I'll spare his life when the revolution comes). They have to follow the letter of the law, they say, and the letter of the law says I must be returned to Britain on the next available flight. Since there were no available flights that night, they say I must be put up in a "facility" for the night, and they'll bring me back to the airport and put me on a plane the next day.
So now two I.N.S. guys come to take me to the "facility". They handcuff me and lead me through the airport with everyone looking at me like I must have just tried to smuggle couple kilos into the country. The "facility" tends out to be a joint Suffolk County Sheriff's Dep't/I.N.S. detention centre, AKA jail. I ask for a vegetarian meal with no dairy and am supplied with two packets of Cheerios (honey nut flavor- in the morning, for some variety, I got cinnamon flavor or something like that, plus a not-too-fresh apple.) There is no bathroom in the cell and the button they tell me to press if I need to go to the bathroom doesn't work (or they ignore it) so I have to piss on the floor during the night, getting piss on my socks (I had to leave my shoes outside the cell since they were worried I might hang myself with the laces, despite the fact that they were shoes with velcro straps and no laces).
In the morning I'm taken out of the cell and put in another holding cell with benches and no beds, where I get to meet some of my fellow detainees. One is a dreadlocks from Republica Dominicana who has spent 10 years in Federal prison and is about to be deported to D.R., where he hopes to become a reggaeton (Spanish language dancehall) musician- buena suerte Silo! Another is a Jamaican brudda who has been in ameriKKKa since he was 8 years old, is married with children to an American citizen, and has spent the last 8 years in federal prison for succumbing to the temptation of some quick money and trying to move some crack- his first and only offense, and if he'd been white and it had been an equivalent amount of powder cocaine he would have got a slap on the wrist and probation. As it is he got 8 years and now that he's served the time, they are about to deport him to Jamaica where he hasn't lived since he was 8 years old. So I end up feeling a lot less sorry for myself after hearing these guys' stories.
Around noon I'm taken out of the cell, fingerprinted and told I'm being taken back to the airport. Suffolk County Sherriff's dep't officers arrive to take me there. One of them is your straight-up stereotype of a stinking pig of a dutty babylon- big fat baldhead redneck cracker bastard grabbing me roughly, cuffing my feet and my ankles, cuffing the latter so tight I can barely walk and they're digging into my flesh. I ask why they're cuffing my feet as well this time and his partner (he himself doesn't deign to speak to scum like me) explains that it is standard procedure for the Sheriff's dep't. His partner, who is either playing good cop to his bad cop, or perhaps has retained a bit of his humanity under his uniform, agrees to loosen my ankle-cuffs, which clearly annoys Officer Tully the redneck swine. I'm bundled in a van and taken back to the airport. Officer Tully is grabbing my arm and dragging me along despite the fact that I'm clearly not going to run too far in ankle-cuffs. I tell him that there's no need to grab my arm, to which he replies "I'll continue holding your arm thank you very much, you have a problem with that?" I smile showing him all 32 teeth and say "no, no problem officer" in a tone which I hope gets across the idea that I wouldn't hesitate a second to pull the trigger if I had his bald sunburned head in a telescopic sight. As I am led stumbling with my ankles chafing through the airport, I see my parents and call out to them, whereupon Tully increases his pace dragging me away, shouting "There'll be no yelling in the airport!" (I doubt he was intelligent enough to appreciate the irony that he himself was yelling, louder than I had called out to my parents). "Good cop" stops to talk to my folks and Tully continues to drag me back to the original interrogation area, where he uncuffs me in front of a Homeland Security guy named Stevenson, a sort of overweight-Schwarzenegger-past-his-prime-looking dude who proceeds to yell at me as I'm being uncuffed: "You better don't give me any trouble, I'll mess you up! Don't piss me off man, I could be your best friend or your worst enemy, remember that!" His abnormally bulging eyes look ready to pop out of his head. Eventually the somewhat-decent Homeland Security bannah from the previous night comes on duty and tells Stevenson that I'm not a security risk. After another half-hour's fiddling with the computer I am informed, to my surprise, that after my folks had contacted the supervisor's supervisor's supervisor, plus the British Consulate, they have decided to "parole" me into the country on compassionate grounds to attend my brother's wedding and that I am free to go.
Well I won't be going back to their fascist little country unless I have to- unfortunately I got a lot of family, friends and ex-lovers over there so I will have to eventually. They claim I ought to have no problem coming in on a visitors' visa if I go to the U.S. embassy and get one- I had been trying to enter under the visa waiver program for U.K. citizens, which in the fine print includes you signing away your right to appeal any decision by Immigration, which is why they were able to immediately try to shove me on the next flight out with no chance to appeal. But I will only return to "their" country for weddings and funerals and that sort of thing.
My brother's wife's best friend and bridesmaid for the wedding is Argentinian, she spent all her savings to come from Argentina for the wedding, and they almost didn't let her in the same way (although she didn't get taken to jail). Now if this done happen to two people staying at the same hotel in Boston the same week, how many other people has it happened to? I want to try to contact as much people as possible with similar experiences and look at the possibility of a class action lawsuit against Homeland Security/I.N.S. Anyone out there have similar experiences or know of anyone who does?
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