天橋下滑一跤

Time: 27 Mar 2010
Location: London ColnBrook
 
Lately, I found that memory was being lost
as I tried to move on in Taiwan.
Some snaps of the story are fairly vague. Some of them can be pictured if I work
hard on brain mining. On the other hand, some remain uncertain. Nevertheless,
the little I know about day 3 is that whole situation wasn’t only just going
wrong but also pushing up to my limit. Pretty much the most unforgettable part
of it.

Time: 26 Mar 2010
Location: London City Airport
Second day was
supposed to be on sky.
The incident of mine was quickly
informed by my case worker from Immigration to Brussels Airline, which
is the one took me to the country, therefore is responsible of sending
me out of it. My case worker is a person I’ve never seen, nonetheless
being mentioned a lot by security people around me. I guess it’s a way
to make me believe there’s someone taking care of my situation, and also
keep themselves clear of trouble and unnecessary question.
I
spent last night on a security van. Inside of it, there’s an iron cage
separating us from driver’s seat and trunk. Some matters happening on
the van are with those who shared the backseat with me. They actually
are other law breakers picked up from some police stations. Hanging with
handcuffed is quite a story, but I was just too tired to find out more.
The least I can remember is that behind my seat, a Spanish speaking
woman can’t stop crying; she murmured or prayed all night long in that
language I don’t speak. Sitting next to her is a young white man; this
dude is such a pain in the ass. He said some insulting words to our
driver and laughed aloud at his own jokes. Besides making me laugh, this
guy was making me very uncomfortable. The mid-age Afghanistan guy next
to me has not much to say, but a rather strong smell to spread. When
everything’s getting unbearable, I started telling myself this won’t
last long, however, it does. The van went up to Newcastle, and then came
back to Manchester, eventually arrived at a detention center in Oxford
at 6 in the morning. Two hours later, I was the first one taken away to
London City Airport. Though I had no time to rest, but was glad to be
rid of this group of people.

Time: 25 Mar 2010
Location: Manchester International Airport
The UK Customs officer refused my entry when I arrived at the airport. Though it was possibly because I didn’t wear a nice suit, I’m confident that a rather careless attitude of mine was the reason to blame. Last time when I visited Polly in England, it’s sort of easy to pass the boarder, the success experience makes me underrate the interview by UK Boarder Agency. The standard is rather high, and the officer I met is fairly strict. I’m supposed to be able to enter UK as a tourist with my passport. Nevertheless, in the first moment, the advantage of my nationality was taken away. Because, according to what she claimed, the only way I can get tourist visa is by possessing return flight ticket, which I did not have. Before I left New York, my plan was to spend some time in England, and then go straight back to Taiwan, that explained why I purchased one-way ticket, but apparently it doesn’t work for her. The frustrating visa issue followed by lots of presumptive questions, she asked if I had worked in US, how much money I have, and how did I collect those money, the contact info of where I was going to stay in England. I think it doesn’t really matter whether I answered properly, and what it really matter is how she thinks of me. Too bad I know it’s all negative.
My passport and every possession were taken away. The immigration officer took my picture and fingerprint. The security guys searched my body over and over. They put me in a holding room which is a small locked space with a restroom, TV and a few chairs and books, security people watches from behind a window. My new friends in there are, A Pakistan mid-age guy, a chubby Polish guy, I think he has mental problem, he is behaving angrily and cursing pointlessly, and an Indian boy who can’t speak English. The waiting time was much longer than I expected, there is nothing I can do, so I tried to amuse myself by tossing toys and kicking a little rubber ball. Others were sort of surprised for how comfortable I am in this situation.
At the end of the day, I was told my flight back will be taking off from London City Airport on the day after. Though this whole thing is going the wrong way, nothing is out of control so far. I’m a go-with-the-flow person, no matter what happen to me, I simply take it as a destiny, and focus on thinking what it try to tell me. This kind of impact has been leading my life to a relative bigger world, and forces me to see it through many different eyes and experiences. For me, being refused doesn’t change my plan much, and they actually stand closer with justice by law of UK. I did attend to stay in England in the following few months by working illegally in a farm nearby Manchester. The only difference is that my adventure in England was going to take place in detention centers instead of countryside, and the subject I'll deal with changed from carpentry work and farmers to security and other lawbreakers.