My 15 worst travel experiences on a Pakistani passport (Part 2)

This is part 2 of a post looking at my worst travel experiences on a Pakistani passport. For Part 1, including a description of how rankings and scores are calculated, click here. 

Without further ado...

Ranking: Tied-7th

Country: U.S.

Category: Customs and Immigration

Year: 2016 or 2018 [I don't remember]

The second time Toronto features in this list. YYZ is always a terrible experience because invariably I get sent to secondary and it can take ages. Despite going to the airport 3 hours before departure, I once missed a flight and at least a couple other times came really close to doing so [my wife and I both have close family in Toronto which is why I make so many trips there]. I would say my secondary average from 2007-2014 or so was roughly 100% and from 2015-present probably about 40-50% [I got a green card in 2015]. The point is: every time I don't get sent to secondary, it's like a mini celebration or victory. 

Anyways, so my wife [Canadian citizen] and I are flying back to the U.S. We get sent to secondary, of course. We sit and wait. Normally, this can take hours, but we get lucky (or so we think): a heavyset white dude waddles up to us, with our passports in a yellow folder, and says this is going to be quick, he just needs to confirm a couple things quickly. We are both relieved. Until, of course, the actual talking starts. 

"Where are you coming from?" he says.

I didn't quite understand the question. The regular questions one receives at any CBP desk are closely related to this question -- "Where are you going?" or "what were you doing here?" or "where do you live?" -- but this was the first time I had heard "where are you coming from?" It literally did not make sense to me. I mean, technically we were coming from my wife's brother's house in the Toronto suburbs? Surely he did not mean that? 

So I repeated his question to him, but as a question, as in, are you sure that's what you mean. My words were "Where are we coming from?"

Big mistake. 

"You givin' me attitude?"

Panic time. "What? No. I just..." I didn't get to finish.

"I was being nice by trying to get you out of here quickly. Now you guys can wait here." He pointed to rows of seats. 

This all happened in a second or two at the most. I literally had no idea what the hell had just happened. The guy walked away with our passports. My wife turned to me, fuming. "Why did you say that?" "I didn't say anything!" I pleaded. 

Anyway, for the next 45-60 minutes we just sat there as this pathetic little bureaucrat got his petty revenge. "Just let me do the talking when he comes back" the missus intoned. Guy comes back, we get our passports, and almost missed our flight despite running to the gate to make it.

I later learned what "where are you coming from?" meant. Because YYZ gets so many connecting flights into the U.S., he thought we were coming in from elsewhere, and only flying through YYZ. He did not get that we were actually staying in Toronto, or even that this could be possible. Pretty weird assumption if you ask me. And a pretty insane reaction to a pretty innocent clarifying question regarding said pretty weird assumption. 

Anyway, fairly high insulting score both for the direct effects as well as the second order effect of having my wife pissed at me. Moderately high annoying score for making us run with our carry on luggage. Humiliation score is actually quite low because my Canadian citizen wife was right there suffering with me. Non-trivial sad score because these power-trippy armed bureaucrats should not be able to lord over people's lives this way.  

Total score: 10 (Insulting 4 + Annoying 3 + Humiliation 1 + Sad 2)

 

Ranking: Tied-7th

Country: Argentina

Category: Visa

Year: 2018

I got a pretty interesting live feed into the dysfunction between two bureaucracies. Fascinating stuff, surely, from a scholarly perspective, except I wasn't writing a dissertation, I was trying to get a visa like a normal human being.

The setup here was that I was planning a trip to Argentina in the winter of 18/19. The website said: apply for a visa a month before your prospective travel date. So I did so and dropped my application off at the Argentina consulate in DC.

Here's where things get interesting. Usually, most embassies or consulates in the U.S. will "interview" you (basically confirming where and for how long you're going and ensuring all your documents are in order) at the same time as you drop your docs off. 

Not these guys. They said I'd get an interview date in my email and that I'd have to come back. Fine, so I go home.

A few days later, I get an email saying I should come in. I go back. Now, normally, these interviews are basically carried out by consular officials behind a glass window in an open area with 2-3 happening concurrently. Like it's a pretty pro forma thing done by relatively "low-level" people; i.e. this is not some major or envious task. 

In this case, however, I was beckoned upstairs, to a beautiful, grand room that, depending on the context, could be a conference room or could also be a dining room in a 17th century nobleman's castle. I am told to wait. 

Who comes out a few minutes later but the friggin Consul General of the damn consulate. Like, this woman, the most important human being in the building, took an entire 45-60 minutes out of her day to talk to me. Ironically, if I had asked her for that time as an academic, saying "Dear Sir/Madam, I am doing research on blah blah, would you be so kind as to meet me and answer my questions about XYZ?" it is unlikely I would have gotten such an intimate meeting on such short notice. I mean, she had my CV printed out in front of her, which she had obviously gotten by googling me. My CV sure as hell wasn't part of the visa application, I can tell you that. 

Of course, I charmed and disarmed her, because when you are brown, you are trained to put people worried about your travel plans at ease. It is a skill you pick up whether you intend to or not. 

So she says: yes, we will give you a visa, but first there has to be a background check in Buenos Aires by the Interior Ministry. I say: ok, fine. After all, a background security check is nothing I haven't experienced before.

Time passes. Days becomes weeks. My departure date draws closer. I contact the consulate. They say they're still waiting. I don't panic but start preparing to panic. Remember, I've booked air tickets and Airbnbs worth literally thousands of dollars at this point. 

More days. More emails. More prompt but ultimately unhelpful replies: we are waiting for Buenos Aires they say.

I up my panic levels. Send out a bat signal on Twitter to see if anyone with contacts can help. Some good samaritans try their best but no one can really do much.

More days. Now we're down to a week or maybe just less before I'm supposed to go. We haven't heard back from Buenos Aires, they say. Ok, but I'm gonna have to cancel my tickets and Airbnb pretty soon, I say. That sucks but you gotta do what you gotta do, they say.

More days. I start the earliest throes of giving up.

48 hours before my departure date, I contact them one last time. Waiting to cancel until the next day would be too late to cancel the Airbnb (but not, crucially as it turned out, the ticket). Have you heard back from Buenos Aires? I ask. Nope, they reply. 

I cancel my Airbnb. My host graciously gives me a refund, not something they were obligated to do. This was a >5 week stay so it was about 1500 dollars, give or take. 

The next day I'm in a meeting at work, around 11 or noon. In the middle of the meeting, I absent-mindedly check my email and in my inbox is an email from the DC consulate which basically says: hey, we haven't heard back from Buenos Aires, but screw it! We're gonna give you a visa anyway. Can you come down before close of business? (COB for consular stuff is usually 2-3 p.m).

I scramble, literally and figuratively. I gotta rush to the Argentina consulate from work. I gotta call the missus and be like, hey, we're back on, so pack your bags (she is a Canadian citizen so all our travel plans were riding on my visa luck, not hers). While on the metro, I gotta tip-tip-tap my phone on Airbnb's app and speak to a rep and end up getting a fairly-crappy-in-comparison-to-what-I-had apartment for a similar price because there was no functionally no notice (e.g. original place had a nice balcony, but the replacement place had a bucket connected to the AC water pipe that I had to empty out every day or two). 

So yeah, 5 on the annoying scale and at least 2 on the sad scale should be obvious. 2 on the insulting scale for subjecting me to that 30-45 minute interview the first day. +2 on the humiliation scale for requiring Pakistanis to get background checks gets cancelled by -1 on the humiliation scale for arbitrarily waiving the requirement (but only on the last day). 

Total score: 10 (Annoying 5 + Sad 2 + Insulting 2 + Humiliation 1 = 10)

Ranking: Tied-5th

Country: France

Category: Visa

Year: 2005

This was a prequel to the Argentina situation. The basic plotline was the same: an arduous and torturous and anxious visa wait because of a background security check. However, it was worse than Argentina because of a number of details. 

The first big difference was that in the French case, I was a college student doing a study abroad. In the Argentina case, all I had to do if things fell through is cancel a flight and Airbnb as an adult with a steady job and income. However, in the event of a non-issuance of a visa here, I had to sort out coursework, apartments in different countries (neither of which you are a legal citizen or resident), university fees etc, which would be an absolute disaster and much more of as logistical challenge than the Argentina case.

The second big difference was that in the Argentina case, I applied exactly a month before my departure date, but in the French case, I applied in September 2005 for a flight in January 2006. There was zero reason in this case for it to be cutting it as close as it did. 

The third big difference is that in the Argentina case, at least I was getting responses and a friendly shoulder to cry on from the embassy staff, who were good cop/bad cop-ing me with the Interior Ministry. However, in the French case, I literally could not get anyone to pick up the phone. I must have tried between 50 and 100 phone calls. I think I spoke to a human being one time. No one emailed back. 

This was a rough timeline. Remember, I was flying back to Pakistan around Dec 15, and needed my passport before then. 

Sept: send documents and application for a student visa.

Oct: do nothing 

mid/late Nov: start worrying and calling them. Learn about background security check. No information on when or even if my visa may be forthcoming.

late Nov: contact study abroad folks in Paris, tell them about the problem. 

early Dec: call the embassy a few more times. No response. Start panicking.

Dec 7: receive news about my visa. Apparently between early Dec and Dec 7, the director of the study abroad program had been in "daily contact" with the vice consul at the Chicago consulate. 

mid Dec: get my passport back.

High annoying score is clear. High humiliation score for the background security check that lasted months. Moderately high sad score because I'm a student, expressing interest in your society and culture, you may want to think about encouraging rather than discouraging such interest. 

Total score: 12 (Annoying 5 + Humiliation 4 + Sad 3)

Ranking: Tied-5th

Country: U.S.

Category: Customs and immigration

Year: 2003

Where this whole citizenship story began, my first year as a college student in the U.S. I get my visa only in time for spring semester, so off I go from Karachi to New York, en route to Ohio, in January 2003.

Anyway, this episode is of my first time experiencing NSEERS special registration. JFK airport, January, 2003. Secondary is a total shitshow. There have to be 200 people in there. Obviously, there have been too many Muslim airlines arriving in the last hour or so. Plus some random Europeans, Asians, Latin Americans etc. Because it's a new program, they have no idea what they're doing (at least make your racism seamless guys!) It's loud, it's chaotic, and it's quite the introduction to America (I had visited before but this was me coming to live here for at least 4 years).

Out of the din, I hear a conversation between two (of many) CBP agents, one that is loud 33% because the room is crowded and they are not that close to one another, 33% because they're New Yorkers, and 33% because they're cops. They are trying to explain/coordinate about the airlines that have come in and who is handling which airline. 

One of them says in a thick NY accent, and I quote, "I got Pack-is-tan comin' out my ass." Pack-is-tan. Coming. Out. Of. His. Ass. 

The term "Pack-is-tan," just for the record, did not refer to the country per se but the airline. He was trying to say he had a lot of PIA passengers to handle. But, I mean, that's not really better, is it? I will never forgot those words as long as I am a sentient human being.

Mega humiliating. Quite annoying, because my dad was waiting on the other side of the glass walls (as an airline employee, he didn't have to go through the same thing). Very sad that some ignorant, racist shit like that had that much power, not just from a law perspective but also from a "impart people's first images of America" perspective.

Total score: 12 (Humiliating 5 + Sad 5 + Annoying 2)

Ranking: 4

Country: Turkey

Category: Customs and Immigration

Year: 2011

So much for Turkey Pakistan bhai bhai.

Background: Turkish Airlines had set one-day transit visa thing for people with long layovers in Istanbul. The basic idea was if you have time to kill, why not do it in one of the best cities of the world?

At the time [the regulations may have changed], apparently all that was required for this "visa" was to show your boarding pass at the Turkish Airlines desk, who would stamp it or give you a pass [I don't remember the details] and then you took that to the immigration officer who would let you in and then on the other side of immigration there'd be a group van to take you, and others in your position, into the city. There was no paperwork, no pre-application, nothing.

When I first saw this, I thought it was too good to be true. Me, a dirty Paki, is just going to be allowed to get off a plane and walk into Istanbul without a visa? Apparently, yes. At the time, I had never been to Istanbul and was really, really excited that my >15 hour layover would actually be...fun?

Except for one thing: I met the immigration officer from hell. 

I took my documents to the window. This stern, muscular looking dude took one look at my passport and just shook his head, and gave my documents back to me. 

I was genuinely bewildered: like, aren't you even going to ask me, you know, a question or something? Nope. He just flat out refused to give me a transit visa, ignoring the rules and regulations of his own country. When I asked him to at least take a look at my documents (e.g. boarding pass showing long layover, print out from Turkish Airlines website etc), he said, and I quote, "Shhhh". 

He was the single rudest immigration officer I have ever had the displeasure of being one-on-one with. When I went back to the Turkish Airlines desk (at least 15 min walk away) for some help -- hey guys, can you give me a form or receipt of some kind I can take to the guy -- they said no. I went back to the immigration area, hoping that maybe I just caught some bad luck and there'd be someone else who could help. No dice. I went back again to the airline desk, and someone from there did me the favor of walking with me back to the immigration area. I probably walked a couple of miles that morning. But after he had a chat with the guy in window and his friends milling around, he came back to me, shaking his head. "Sorry, there's nothing we can do." I just sat down on the floor and held my head in my hands for a solid 15 minutes. I really did not understand what was happening. 

The thing is, I wasn't expecting to have a random 1 day vacation in Istanbul beforehand. But what got me peeved is that once you've set up a rule like this, how can a thug like that guy just deny it on a whim, and so rudely at that? Between the jet lag, lack of sleep, and pacing back and forth across Istanbul airport for 15 hours, we get a high insulting score, high annoying score, and moderate sad score (for the Muslim on Muslim thing).

Total score: 13 (Annoying 5 + Insulting 5 + Sad 3)

Ranking: 3

Country: Ecuador

Category: Visa

Year: 2019

Easily the most Kafkaesque experience in this list. Buckle up.

I made the mistake of thinking I, a Pakistani, could visit Peru and Ecuador in the summer of 2019. My hunch and a cursory google search of internet forums suggested Peru would be the simpler visa of the two. As any third world citizen going on a multi-country trip knows, you always start with the harder visa first, so that flights/hotels/plans can be cancelled earlier rather than closer to the actual trip. So Ecuador it was.

Ecuador has visa free travel for basically the entire world except for like 20 countries. Obviously Pakistan is on that list of 20 countries.

Unfortunately, getting information from their website for visa requirements was not a simple task. As an aside, veterans of visa applications will know just how terribly managed the visa/consular sections of most embassy/consulate websites are. It's not the 1990s/Netscape/ICQ/IRC/MSN feel they have, although that's undoubtedly part of it. It's that unless it's a country with a very high volume of foreign tourists (U.S., France etc), it is quite likely that the information page(s) on these sites may not work at all or even when they do work, they may have contradictory information (e.g. One webpage says you need these 7 docs plus the application form, click here [link provided] for the application form, when you click through to the other page, it says "make sure to have the 9 other things you need when you submit this application form.")

Anyway, so the Ecuador website wasn't the easiest to navigate and did indeed have some contradictory information, especially regarding whether one could file an application only online/mail or in person as well. In any other business or service (even government service), you could call or email someone or some office, but again, as visa application veterans know, in the extremely unlikely event of someone replying to such an email or call, they will have zero information beyond pro-forma pronouncements that you could get from the FAQs on their website. I called a few times but got only a recorded message, with no hope of a callback. So I said: you know what, let me just physically go to the embassy and ask them directly.  

I google map the Ecuador embassy in DC. After a 45-50 minute metro/bus ride from my place in VA, I walk to the address listed on the internet and lo and behold the building is closed and under construction. There is a note on the front door, basically in the form of a post it, saying where the new address is. Again, none of this information was online. It's about a 10-15 minute walk away. 

So I find the place and I'm let in by the person manning the buzzer and I go in and look for someone to help. Here's the thing: because tourist visa applications to Ecuador are so rare (again, 180 countries just travel free), the guy who's job was it is was very surprised to see me. In fact, I dare say he had no clue about what to say to me. Once he got over the shock of someone actually needing a tourist visa, he said go online and file the application there. Once it's in the system, I will contact you regarding documents. 

Oh and also, the visa fee is four hundred dollars. 

I'm flabbergasted. This is easily the most expensive tourist visa fee I have ever encountered, and by at least 30%. I ask him if he's sure: does he know I'm talking about a tourist visa? Like, the lowest level (<90 days) of tourist visa? 

Yes sir, he says. Four hundred dollars. 

I blow out my cheeks and start contemplating not going (eventually, I make that call but we're not there yet). 

I go home and submit my application and wait. No response. Triangulating between remembering the guy's first name, finding his twitter, and other assorted googling (seriously), I find his direct line at the embassy. Call him. When he picks up, he is totally bemused, wondering (not aloud) how the hell I got this number. I ask him for an update. He says, oh yeah btw, you need to get us XYZ documents, plus the $400 (visa fee) plus $50-60 (I don't remember) for the visa application fee, which is somehow different than the visa fee. 

I blow out my cheeks and continue contemplating not going (eventually, I make that call but we're not there yet). 

One of the documents they require is an FBI criminal background/fingerprint check. Now, I can recall only one or two other instances when such a check has been required by an embassy, and it has been in cases of permanent residency applications or long term visa (e.g. student visa) applications. Never in my life have I heard of an FBI background check for a tourist visa. Oh and by the way, this background check costs another $50-60. 

So if you're counting at home, we are now above $500 and we have not got to tickets or hotels/Airbnbs. Like this is just the transfer fee, I haven't even negotiated with the player on his wages yet. 

I actually get the FBI background check. I'm thinking alright, finally. I had filled out the application form. I had hunted down their physical location and phone number, neither of which was a simple google search away. I had ridden WMATA for an hour each way, something few human beings should ever have to experience. I was prepared to pay half a friggin grand just for the privilege of applying to be able to enter their country. I had everything they needed, including air tickets, Airbnb receipts, bank statements, letter from my employer attesting that I am not a degenerate, scans of my passport and green card, and a goddamn letter from the FBI saying I am neither a criminal nor a terrorist...for now...as far as they know.  This had all already taken weeks. 

I call the guy triumphantly. I say: hey, I uploaded all the documents. Now what? He says: oh, did you get the FBI clearance with an apostille? 

I did not know what an apostille was. In fact, I had never even heard the word before. I thought he was saying "apple steal". Seriously.

I said: What?

He said: Yeah, apple steal. Gotta have that. 

I said: What's that?

He said: You get it from the State Department.

I said: The State Department? 

He said: Yes, sir. The State Department.

I said: The message I'm getting from the cost and difficulty of getting a tourist visa is that you don't want people like me visiting your country.

He said: No, sir, it's not like that. 

I said: I think it is like that.

I'd heard enough. I hung up. One cursory google search for "apple steal documents state department" later, I decided to give up. "Ecuador will have to wait until I become a US citizen, thanks," is what I told myself. 

The end. 

Total score: 14 (Annoying 6 [cheating here but this broke the annoying scale] + Humiliating 4 + Sad 4 )

Ranking: 2

Country: U.S.

Category: Customs and Immigration

Year: 2009

Miami is a great place, as long as you are flying within the U.S. But in this instance, the missus and I were coming back from our honeymoon, in Belize. We lived in Chicago but our flight back home connected in Miami, which is where our immigration/passport stamping was done. 

There's actually not much to this story. We had just gotten married, so this was our first trip as an F1/F2 couple. Of course, we got sent to secondary. By itself, secondary was nothing new to me.

But this was something else. It reminded me of my first secondary experience (see #5 on this list). There were so many people there. As soon as I got there, I understood: this was the ground zero for Hispanic immigrants, tourists, families etc coming to the U.S. For once, Muslims were not the dominant group in secondary. 

As an aside, the racial breakdown in secondary is quite insane. The few white travelers from white countries who get sent in there are usually so bewildered: what are we doing here with these people? Some say it with their eyes. Others just say it out loud, as one middle aged/elderly British couple I overheard in Miami. I followed their gaze and eavesdropped a bit and they just couldn't fathom what they were doing there. I think they thought everyone in that room was an illegal immigrant or terrorist which, if I was a white person from a white country sent to secondary for the first time, I suppose I would think too. 

Anyway, there's not actually much to this story, except to say we got the rudest, most assholish CBP officer in our entire travel history. Seriously, my wife and I still talk about this guy. The crazy thing was that it was her (Canadian citizen), not me, that was the target (for once). The guy was suspicious about the timing of our wedding, thinking we got married only so she could get a visa. So he "interviewed" her about her background, travel history, employment status etc.

I think my brain has intentionally blocked much of what transpired that night. I just remember a snarling, overbearing, aggressive douchebag. He was a white dude in his 30s with a narrow face. Look up "haranguing" and that is what he was doing to her. He would ask her a question, before she finished responding, he would cut her off and ask another. He was clearly trying to rattle her and often said totally random things. For example, when she said she graduated Columbia, he said "Oh yeah? I graduated from NYU. So tell me..." I can assure you, dear readers, this guy did not graduate from NYU, you will just have to take my word for it. 

I was trying my best to play it cool, seated 10-15 feet away, reading a book and doing my best to actually concentrate on the pages. I knew that my wife could handle him, that we had the facts on our side, and the best thing for us as a couple would be for me to have a "la-dee-da" attitude and give off of a "what me, worried?" vibe. 

But it was useless. I could not help but glance at the two of them every 5-10 seconds, just to see how it was going. It was just instinct. This pissed the guy off even more.

I don't remember if he called me or if I volunteered and got up myself and said something to the effect of "hey, can I help clarify anything," but either way, soon I was gingerly walking over to them. He carried on his rude and aggressive questioning, to which I could only respond defensively: no it's not like that, sir. We've been together a long while. 

Eventually, he let us go. The whole "interview" could not have lasted more than 15 minutes. But the memory, if not the details, are seared into our brains. After this flight, we resolved that no matter what happens, the missus and I were never again going to use Miami as a layover/first port of entry from international flights. And despite having made a number of trips to the Caribbean/Central America/South America in the 10 years since, I am proud to say we have never connected through Miami. 

Total score: 16 (Annoying 2 + Humiliation 5 + Insulting 5 + Sad 4)

Ranking: 1

Country: Canada (but basically U.S.) 

Year: 2016

Category: Airport security; customs and immigration

You may read the following details and think "well, that's not that bad. I've seen worse, even on this list." Fair enough. I am just describing my state of mind. This was the worst because I was just so tired. 

I was tired in the micro sense, in that this was a long flight/layover and bad things happened throughout the flight, especially towards the end. And I was tired in the macro sense: it had been 15 years of this shit, and I was really, really done. 

In a way, the whole thing started a few days prior. The missus and I were in Berlin. We were flying to Prague the next day to spend 2-3 nights there before going on to Istanbul, from where we would fly home after 4-5 nights. Then this happens:

So yeah, that was the Turkey leg of our trip canceled. (Perhaps because of my idiocy or perhaps because of my eagerness to see Istanbul for the first time, I didn't actually cancel immediately. I thought: let's wait at least a day and get to Prague first and make a call once we're there. I emailed a good friend of mine from Turkey who basically said "You want to go to Istanbul for a holiday day after tomorrow? Are you nuts?" Then I cancelled).

Anyway, the whole "Turkish soldiers having their throats slit on roads" thing meant that (a) I had to try to get a refund from Turkish Airlines for our Prague-Istanbul flight, and (b) I had to try to rebook our Air Canada flight, switching it from Istanbul-Dulles (connecting in YYZ) to Prague-Dulles (connecting in YYZ). After lots of time on the phone, we failed in (a) (screw you Turkish Airlines). After not much time at all on the phone, we succeeded in (b) (thanks Air Canada). 

At the end of the day, this wasn't that bad. We got an extra couple nights in Prague and got to relax a bit after a helter skelter trip. I watched some test cricket between Pakistan and England, a match we won (this was the Misbah push ups match). We celebrated my birthday in a fancy restaurant overlooking the city. The mood was good.

Our rebooked flight (Prague-YYZ-Dulles) was taking off pretty early in the morning. We got a cab and got to the airport, pretty sleepy and ready to go home. This is where things went downhill.

As a Pakistani, literally every step of flying internationally is more cumbersome than it is for normal people. To give one small example, even before you get to the check in desk at the airport (considered the first step for most flyers), there is usually an airline/airport employee in front of the velvet ropes checking your passports and asking where you are flying. This is meant to be a pro-forma thing and is not a real "check" in that there is no stamping or printing or anything else going on. If, say, you are Canadian, like my wife, he will open your passport to the front page, take a look at you, take a look at the front page again, smile, hand over the passport, and say "Enjoy your flight, ma'am." I know this because I have seen it with my own eyes.

However, in my case, he will take a look at the front of the passport, see "Islamic Republic of Pakistan" and then pause. This pause makes my stomach lurch, every time. Then he will flip to the back of the passport to examine all the stickers stuck there by his security brethren at other airports around the world. 

What the back of my passport looks like

He will open to the front page. He will flip through the booklet. Not once, but twice or thrice. He will then ask if you have a visa or a green card. You will answer. Then he will look at the visa and green card very closely. He will thumb up and down and leave more fingerprint DNA on your passport/green card than featured in an entire season of Law and Order. He will then hand back your passport. This will take roughly a minute.

Now you might say: a minute? You're complaining about 60 seconds? Well, yes, I am. If the guy is basically a traffic cop waving people through when it comes to normal people, but a bouncer at an exclusive nightclub when it comes to me, it's going to bother me. Especially because I've experienced it a million times, it's entirely predictable, and it's not even the beginning of my journey yet. Remember, I haven't gotten to the check in desk yet. 

Anyways, we get to the check in desk, where of course, I get the dreaded SSSS on my boarding pass [see #11 in Part 1 for an explanation of SSSS]. This means that in the security line, I get pulled aside, get my bag opened, get asked extra questions, get my passport flipped through, get my green card examined, etc. Note that every time this happens, I am told "Excuse me sir, but you have been randomly selected for additional security screening" and it is the insertion of that term -- randomly selected -- that makes me seethe as much if not more than the actual extra screening. Like, if you're gonna discriminate, don't tell me you're not discriminating literally while you're discriminating.

The one silver lining of this, I tell myself, is that I have exhausted the SSSS quota for my trip. They've done it here (Prague) so at least they're not going to do it in YYZ. Indeed, I have two boarding passes in my hand. The Prague-Toronto leg has SSSS written on it. The Toronto-DC leg does not. It's smooth sailing from here on in as far as "additional screening" is concerned. I tell myself and my wife this, out loud. These are, as it turns out, famous last words. 

We get on our flight, and it's pretty long (approximately 10-12 hours). We land in YYZ and follow the "connecting flights to the U.S." lines. It leads to this open room/waiting area. It's an absolute crowded mess. There's people, families, sitting on the floor. Babies crying etc. Wife and I get comfortable: we may be here a while. 

After an hour or two, we get to CBP officer. Everything goes...totally fine. Smooth even. Small victories. 

Now we have some time to kill before our flight back home. Remember, this ticket was rebooked at the last minute due to the coup. We didn't really have much of a choice optimizing on other dimensions like length of layover. So it was a while, around 7-8 hours. 

Fast forward to about 2-3 hours before our flight. By this point, we've lounged around, gotten a bite, walked about, social media-ed and replied to emails and Whatsapped, and stretched our legs. So we think even though it's a "domestic" flight and the gates won't open until 30-45 minutes before, let's just go sit by the gate. I mean, what else is there to do, right? 

So we go to the gate. At this point, we're pretty exhausted -- we had left our Airbnb in Prague roughly 24 hours prior, and because it was a daytime departure from Europe, we didn't sleep much on the plane, if at all. I just want to get on this flight and go home.

We are there so early the gate is still mainly populated by people flying the flight before ours. Eventually, they all line up and board. 

We stay where we're sitting. Now it's about an hour before our flight. Almost there I tell myself.

The gate agent, an Indian woman who had some pretty strong Toronto auntie vibes going, comes to the gate. She's in charge of boarding our flight, dealing with stand-by requests etc. 

My head is leaning back against the wall and my eyes are closed, though I am awake. I hear my name on the PA system. Toronto Indian Auntie is beckoning me to the desk. I brace myself. 

And then she says it: sir, you have been randomly selected for extra security screening. She prints out a new boarding pass for me. There it is, on the bottom right.

S. S. S. Fucking S. 

I get angry. Very angry. Is this a joke, I ask? I already went through extra screening in Prague! 

Doesn't matter, she says. It says I've been selected in her system so I've been selected. She has this arrogant and haughty manner about her -- her face basically says "OF COURSE you've been selected, doofus, you should be glad you're even allowed to fly" -- that, combined with everything else, is really getting on my nerves. 

I ask why this couldn't be done before? I've been at the airport half the day and have had this boarding pass for 24 hours. Why just before my flight? 

She lies. Outright lies. She says: "I called your name earlier, but you weren't here yet." Total bullshit. In fact, we had arrived in the boarding area at least 1.5 hours before she had, mainly because we had nothing left to do at the airport. I was there the whole time she had been there. I knew what time she came in and I damn sure knew that she did not call my name earlier. She must have thought that I was one of the passengers who came in at a "normal time" (i.e. after her), and thought she could get away with lying.

This is the crazy thing: it took me a while to even recognize the lie. It was so brazen, and so quick, I didn't even have the time to say or think "Wait a minute, that's not true." These types of interactions always take place over 15-60 seconds and the obvious or perfect retort or intervention only comes later. It was only when I was replaying the entire episode in my head that I realized she told this lie. I wish I had caught it in real time. 

Anyway, she tells me where I have to go for the extra screening. It's a 10 minute walk that way she says. So not only do I have to be discriminated against (again), but to add insult to injury, I have to walk there (and back) myself. 

I stomp off, cussing and cursing. Not at her -- that would be madness, and for sure would mean not getting on that flight, and even in my angry state, I'm sane enough to recognize that -- but rather at the world, and loud enough for her to hear. At this point, I really don't care. I've totally had it. My wife comes after me and accompanies me to the extra screening. 

The extra screening guy is also brown. He asks for my shoes, opens my carry on luggage, feels me up etc etc. I'm still fuming. I'm bitching about how unfair and discriminatory and ridiculous all this is. By way of apology/explanation to this guy, my wife tells him how much of this crap has already happened, both that day and in general. The guy obviously feels kinda/sorta bad but he's just doing his job, tries to keep up the pretense of "random selection" and sends me on the way.

I stomp back to the boarding area. Give the Toronto Indian Auntie some lip (I wasn't sure of the exact words but it was something to the effect of "there, I had your stupid extra screening, happy now?"). This missus tries to calm me down. She says: do you want to miss this flight and end up in jail? Because that's where this is leading. 

The boarding starts. I gave Toronto Indian Auntie one last dirty scowl, and get on the plane. And that was that.

I was really put off by the U.S. after this flight. FYI this was the summer before Trump got elected. I distinctly remember thinking "It was Obama's America that broke me." I really felt like I couldn't take much more. True story: I was so done that in the fall, I searched very seriously for jobs in Asia, UK and Canada [it did not happen, and the next year I went up for tenure. The rest is history]. 

I want to reiterate just how broken this episode made me feel. I was just so...done. It was a case of "enough already". I told myself that day, and still believe, that American society will never truly or wholly accept me or people like me. At some level, I always knew that; it wasn't like I had these idealistic images of the U.S. beforehand and after this incident they turned 180 degrees. But this incident brought it home in such a real and tangible and palpable way that I can still feel the emotions from that evening viscerally four and a half years on. I just have to remind myself of Toronto Indian Auntie's face and it all comes back. 

Total score 18: (Annoying 5 + Humiliating 5 + Insulting 4 + Sad 4)