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Two thoughts
entered my mind as I crossed the Canadian-US
border. I had been down there about a week
beforehand to see if I could meet some Matsqui
Indians. But I arrived too late. It was dark
and I thought I'd take a look around to see if
I could find someone I could speak to.
As I
walked around the trailer park, I drew the
attention of the US mobile border patrol officer
on duty that night. He asked me if I had
crossed into the US. He added that if I had, I would
have to be arrested. But I was still standing
on Canadian soil, that is, on the Canadian
side of the border. I'm not sure how he could
have arrested me without illegally crossing
the border himself. But that was not an issue
pressing upon my mind.
Now my thoughts
were these: Either I get into the US and go
and get my possessions, and see my wife, or I
get caught and I get to appear before an
immigration judge to plead my case. I was not
relishing the thought of being arrested, but
the thought of giving up and waiting for my
flight back to the UK felt too much like
surrender and a grossly unacceptable defeat.
Essentially, it was (for me) the less of two
evils.
I
was expecting, on the balance of
probabilities, to be picked up by border
patrol. It was just a matter of time. But I
deliberately crossed the border at a time when
I was (wrongly) informed their would be a
change of duty and nobody would be on patrol. This was between 4pm and 5pm.
It seemed to be my best chance of getting into
the US without being detected. I
crossed the border at around 4-10pm and was
picked up very quickly. So much for someone
else's advice.
There were no
protests and I calmly allowed myself to be
transported to an office in Lynden, Washington
State ("WA"), US. Here I was 'interviewed'
rather than interrogated and the people
working from this small office seemed more
humane then those I had previously endured
ordeals with.
I was at this
office several hours, I think, and then
transferred to an office which I think was in,
or close to Bellingham, WA. From here I was
put in a rickety transport vehicle and taken
South to an immigration detention centre in
Tacoma, WA. Not an ideal situation, but
ironically enough, they were bringing me
closer to my wife. All I had to do now was try
to get released and travel just around 140
miles to be with my beloved. Simple? Not
exactly.
I got to the
detention centre (North West Detention Centre
- "NWDC") late in the evening on the same day
(8th October). I had no idea what type of
experience was awaiting me but had a mixture
of emotions. Those which were negative I tried
to ignore. I was focussing on achieving an
objective.
From this point,
I am transcribing my diary. This will take
longer than expected. It will tell of my time
at the NWDC - right up to the time I was due
to leave. |
