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Where I'm UnAmerican
Jun. 8th, 2011 07:39 pmBut first, an aside:
Yesterday I mentioned that I was only halfway through a Daniel Abraham book. Well it turns out I was wrong. Imagine my surprise when I reached the end today at once, all of a sudden. It turns out that when I bought it for the Kindle, it also came with an ARC of Abraham's next book due later this month.
Whoa. Bonus novel, dude!
Back to the point of this post:
So a couple of weeks ago I drove to Michigan so I could hang out with some of my old Michigan friends. That amounted to a 13 hour trip each way, roughly, and on the way out there I chose to go through Canada. I entered the country at Niagara and drove through to Port Huron.
Now I've gone into and through Canada a number of times in the last 13 or so years and on every single account getting into the country is pretty easy. Getting back into the U.S. is always harder especially since 911. Namely this appears to be due to a substantial difference in the training for border guards. Canadian Border Guards seem to have a list of simple questions in their handbook. American Border Guards seem to have no list of simple questions but a simple admonition to be a dick.
So at about 9:45 I drive up to a guard station in Port Huron, Michigan. The guard is a young guy...I'd guess 25 or 26. He looks bored.
Me: Hi! (Hands over passport)
Guard: (SIlence, takes passport, scrutinizes his computer screen. Beat.)
Guard: (A minute and a half later) Where you from?
Me: New Hampshire. (This question always catches me by surprise because I know these guys are looking at my license plates)
Guard: Where ya going?
Me: Brighton.
Guard: Why you going there?
Me: To visit friends.
Guard: (Suspiciously) How do you know people in Brighton when you're from New Hampshire?
Me: (How many ways are there to answer this?) Uh, I used to live here.
Guard: (Looking at me full on for the first time) Oh yeah? When was that?
Me: Oh, 4 or 5 years ago.
Guard: Why'd you leave? (Eyes narrowed.)
Me: Uh, for work.
Guard: Where do you work now?
Me: (There's no way I'm going to say a mental hospital) Erm, a hospital. In Vermont.
Guard: (Frowning, clearly thinking "There are hospitals in Michigan.") How long have you know these 'friends'?
Me: (It's the beard. I look like an Irish Muslim I bet.) 10 years now. (Actually longer than that)
Guard: (Studies screen, frowning.) Hava good night. (Hands back my passport, never looking away from the computer screen)
This only happens when I enter the states. Oddly enough, the border agents are slightly less suspicious when I'm flying into the country from Europe than when I'm driving in from Canada. Weird. The only experience that was better than this one is the one time I drove back in with a friend of mine from England who was asked, "Why do you live in England?" Like it was somehow offensive to be British.
So anyway, I decided to avoid Canada on the way back, figuring the time I spent at the borders would more or less equal the extra 45 minutes of driving going around Lake Erie costs me. Of course, since I was driving back the day after Memorial Day I got stuck in a lot of road construction so that didn't do me any good.
It's always been a dream of mine to drive across the country in one long round trip route. From California to Maine or Maine to California and back again, following a northern route one way and a southern route the other. But the truth is, this country is starting to piss me off so much I'm not really sure I want to do that. Besides, I've seen most of it already, aside from a couple of far northern states (Montana and Wyoming) and the far southern ones (Alabama, Arkansas, Louisiana). So now I'm thinking that maybe I'd rather drive across Canada instead. I've seen the southern half of Ontario but there's a whole region further north that I've only glimpsed and I've only caught the western edge of Quebec. The rest of the country I've never seen.
But I can just bet that after crossing the whole of Canada in one long road trip the kinds of questions that I'd get trying to come back into the States.
Border Guard in Washington: Where'd you come from?
Me: New Hampshire. And Maine, kinda.
Border Guard: (Suspiciously) Why'd you drive the whole way in Canada?
Me: I wanted to see the country.
Border Guard: Pull your car over to the side here.
Yesterday I mentioned that I was only halfway through a Daniel Abraham book. Well it turns out I was wrong. Imagine my surprise when I reached the end today at once, all of a sudden. It turns out that when I bought it for the Kindle, it also came with an ARC of Abraham's next book due later this month.
Whoa. Bonus novel, dude!
Back to the point of this post:
So a couple of weeks ago I drove to Michigan so I could hang out with some of my old Michigan friends. That amounted to a 13 hour trip each way, roughly, and on the way out there I chose to go through Canada. I entered the country at Niagara and drove through to Port Huron.
Now I've gone into and through Canada a number of times in the last 13 or so years and on every single account getting into the country is pretty easy. Getting back into the U.S. is always harder especially since 911. Namely this appears to be due to a substantial difference in the training for border guards. Canadian Border Guards seem to have a list of simple questions in their handbook. American Border Guards seem to have no list of simple questions but a simple admonition to be a dick.
So at about 9:45 I drive up to a guard station in Port Huron, Michigan. The guard is a young guy...I'd guess 25 or 26. He looks bored.
Me: Hi! (Hands over passport)
Guard: (SIlence, takes passport, scrutinizes his computer screen. Beat.)
Guard: (A minute and a half later) Where you from?
Me: New Hampshire. (This question always catches me by surprise because I know these guys are looking at my license plates)
Guard: Where ya going?
Me: Brighton.
Guard: Why you going there?
Me: To visit friends.
Guard: (Suspiciously) How do you know people in Brighton when you're from New Hampshire?
Me: (How many ways are there to answer this?) Uh, I used to live here.
Guard: (Looking at me full on for the first time) Oh yeah? When was that?
Me: Oh, 4 or 5 years ago.
Guard: Why'd you leave? (Eyes narrowed.)
Me: Uh, for work.
Guard: Where do you work now?
Me: (There's no way I'm going to say a mental hospital) Erm, a hospital. In Vermont.
Guard: (Frowning, clearly thinking "There are hospitals in Michigan.") How long have you know these 'friends'?
Me: (It's the beard. I look like an Irish Muslim I bet.) 10 years now. (Actually longer than that)
Guard: (Studies screen, frowning.) Hava good night. (Hands back my passport, never looking away from the computer screen)
This only happens when I enter the states. Oddly enough, the border agents are slightly less suspicious when I'm flying into the country from Europe than when I'm driving in from Canada. Weird. The only experience that was better than this one is the one time I drove back in with a friend of mine from England who was asked, "Why do you live in England?" Like it was somehow offensive to be British.
So anyway, I decided to avoid Canada on the way back, figuring the time I spent at the borders would more or less equal the extra 45 minutes of driving going around Lake Erie costs me. Of course, since I was driving back the day after Memorial Day I got stuck in a lot of road construction so that didn't do me any good.
It's always been a dream of mine to drive across the country in one long round trip route. From California to Maine or Maine to California and back again, following a northern route one way and a southern route the other. But the truth is, this country is starting to piss me off so much I'm not really sure I want to do that. Besides, I've seen most of it already, aside from a couple of far northern states (Montana and Wyoming) and the far southern ones (Alabama, Arkansas, Louisiana). So now I'm thinking that maybe I'd rather drive across Canada instead. I've seen the southern half of Ontario but there's a whole region further north that I've only glimpsed and I've only caught the western edge of Quebec. The rest of the country I've never seen.
But I can just bet that after crossing the whole of Canada in one long road trip the kinds of questions that I'd get trying to come back into the States.
Border Guard in Washington: Where'd you come from?
Me: New Hampshire. And Maine, kinda.
Border Guard: (Suspiciously) Why'd you drive the whole way in Canada?
Me: I wanted to see the country.
Border Guard: Pull your car over to the side here.
