Arabian Autographs: A Day Of Disaster
A tiny handful of Muslim terrorists make world travelling difficult for all Muslims. Border guards are increasingly suspicious. Innocent travellers can find themselves being treated as criminals. Angela Townsend tells of the difficulties she, her Iraqi husband and an Iraqi friend experienced while trying to return to the USA from Mexico.
With the latest terrorist attacks in London, life has again become more difficult for the 99.9 percent non-terrorist Muslims around the world.
Being married to an Iraqi Arab causes problems in itself but when it comes to travelling the world - as we enjoy doing - my husband will now be viewed with increased suspicion and disdain wherever the airliner takes us in the Western world.
I remember the treatment he received upon arriving in Canada in June 2002, post September 11. Immigration staff gave him the once over and were extremely thorough in gathering all the details of our planned movements; where we were going, how long we would be there…we didn’t even know ourselves at that stage, which looked suspicious in itself.
Our subsequent arrival in Los Angeles was uneventful and, surprisingly, more welcoming than Vancouver. We were processed quickly through immigration and collected by Amer’s best friend Nabeel, another former Iraqi now resident in the United States.
Our problems started the day we decided to make a day trip to San Diego. We had an enjoyable drive and lunched at a busy Mexican restaurant where I had a marguerite the size of a fish bowl.
It was decided to cross the border into Mexico for a look around and to say we had been there, so we caught a train to the border and simply walked across. I was surprised at how easy it was – I guess the Mexicans don’t have to worry too much about illegal immigrants!
It was like another world – pińatas, cafes and souvenir stores everywhere – the colours were so bright and vivid with the scents of Mexican spices wafting down the grubby streets. After wandering around we had a Corona – a must in Mexico – and made our way to cross back into the United States.
Joining the queue of fellow tourists, Amer and I had our passports scrutinised and duly stamped before searching for Nabeel.
He was answering questions from the border guard and there was obviously a problem so Amer went back to see what was going on. It transpired Nabeel had left his green card at home and was not permitted back into the US. This was a problem of huge proportions so the three of us backtracked into Mexico to figure out what to do next.
Could someone get into his apartment and bring the green card to us? Nabeel’s girlfriend was of no use to us there – she was working in Las Vegas. Amer and I could drive back to LA ourselves to fetch the card but it would be hours before we returned.
The only other option was to pay a fortune (several hundred dollars) to have a computer search of Nabeel’s details made, with no guarantee it would be completed that day.
We had no choice – the MasterCard was handed over and we joined the crowds on the pavement outside, hoping and praying the search would be carried out that afternoon.
To our relief it was, and within a couple of hours we were back in the queue to the US.
This time Nabeel went through the aisle next to us with no problems. My passport was stamped and I was then told to wait outside for my husband while he “answered a few questions”.
It is difficult to describe the mixed emotions of anger, fear and amazement at the sight of my husband being ushered into a room with frosted windows. The fact that he was being treated like a criminal and even remotely suspected as a terrorist because of his birthplace incensed me.
He had walked back into the US with no problems only a few hours earlier which showed a frightening variability between the immigration officers – all the actual terrorists have to do is stand in the right queue.
I became more worried as time went on and after an hour I was convinced I wouldn’t be going home with my husband.
In hindsight it was a really dumb act to cross into Mexico and back again on the third of July – the day before Independence Day.
Thankfully my concerns were allayed when Amer appeared almost two hours later. He was still smiling and seemed unaffected by his interrogation with several immigration officers.
We have never been as relieved as when we climbed back into the train as darkness fell – all three of us swearing to never return to Mexico.
There was just one more testing hurdle to overcome as we arrived back at the car – to retrieve the keys from the ignition while locked outside!
