Fun and games getting into America

On Saturday afternoon I made my way to Pearson International Airport (or Toronto Airport to those not in the know) to fly down to Kansas City. When flying from Toronto to the US, you go through passport control prior to boarding the plane. That way you can arrive at the domestic arrivals in the US and go straight to baggage reclaim and out of the airport. I'm never sure what to expect when entering the US and so I approached this experience with interest.

The first assistant wasn't the frendliest I've ever met. He asked me a series of questions without ever actually looking me in the eye. He seemed a bit unimpressed that I intended to spend 83 days in the US without actually having any documents I could show him about the training course. I had figured that since I would be staying less that 90 days I could get in with a visa waiver and, consequently, without too much scrutiny. It seems they are still quite cautious, even with visa waivers.

At the end of our conversation, he asked me to put my index finger on the pad to take a fingerprint sample. I concluded that he had decided to let me in since he was checking me over. Unfortunately, his camera wasn't working, so he passed me on to the neighbouring booth. The lady there asked me a series of very similar questions before redirecting me to a separate room for more questions.

When I got into the other room I was greeted with another fairly grumpy individual. He sent me through to another room which appeared to be for agriculture. The man there made me wait a good distance from his desk for a few moments before calling me over to deal with me. He x-rayed all my bags and then sent me back through to the other room.

I waited there for a while and wondered just how long they would keep me waiting. It seemed I still had some time before my flight was going to leave, but still I didn't want to wait too long. I still had a sense of peace, though. I really didn't care if they were going to deny me entry or whatever. I decided if God wanted me in America it'd happen.

There was one guy behind a desk who didn't appear to be doing anything but he didn't call me over either. A couple came in and he called them up straight away. I found it strange that he hadn't called me up so when he had finished with them, I went over. I was holding the large yellow envelope that they give you containing your passport, customs declaration and visa waiver. He took it from me, announcing that "you're never going to get seen if you don't hand that over." I thought to myself that it might have been an idea for someone to tell me that in the first place, but I knew better than to point that out to him.

I then waited five or ten minutes more before he called me up again. He had gone away to another room and come back again in between times. I don't know if he was checking up on me by calling someone or if he was just going to the toilet. I sometimes wonder if the whole process is just to make you wait for a while to see what you do.

When he called me up, he stamped my passport and gave me my visa waiver and told me to enjoy my day. I noticed with amusement that he didn't actually check my fingerprints or take my photo but I didn't think he'd appreciate it if I reminded him.

I'm here now, though, so that's all behind me. Now I have my three months of church planting to look forwards to.