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.
Pics: my flight takes off from JFK airport, New York
Time: 25 Mar 2010
Location: Manchester International Airport
The UK Customs officer refused my entry when I arrived on 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 only 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 if I answered properly, and what it really matter is how she thinks of me, and 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 again and again. I was held in a room for the rest of the day at airport. The holding room is a small locked space with a restroom, TV and a few chairs and books, and could be watched by security behind a glass 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. During the boring waiting time, I could do nothing but try to amuse myself by tossing toys and kicking a little rubber ball.
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 was 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 anything, 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. Only my adventure in England was going to take place in detention centers instead of countryside.
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