I went to Canada again this past weekend. The line wasn’t very long at customs, so I got excited. Then I pulled up to the booth and saw one of those tough, serious-looking jerks who immediately causes you to expect the worst. It turned cold almost immediately. Somehow, talk of my purpose in entering Canada quickly turned to “Have you ever been convicted of a crime?” and “Are you a criminal?” After the second time he asked me if I was a criminal, I noticed my hand shaking. I was so angry, so insulted that this man would ask me this question twice, that my hand was shaking. I rested it on the door to stop the tremor, but it was too late. I could already see him writing on a piece of paper, meaning a secondary inspection was in the offing. Not before he asked me to hold my hand up for his inspection, though.
“Is your hand shaking?”
“No.”
“Ok, pull over into the secondary inspection area.”
I parked my car and headed inside the building. I was again asked if I was a criminal. The officer also asked me why they might search a car. Something about that question insulted me even more. You want me to tell you why you are violating my human rights? You want me to be complicit? Finally he asked me for my cell phone (they like you to be silent and helpless) and my keys. I told him that I wanted to be present during any search of my vehicle.
“Is there anything I should know? Are you hiding anything?”
“No, I just don’t like how my property was treated last time this happened.”
“You can watch through the window.”
After ten minutes of wasted time, Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee walked out to my car. I watched through the window as they swung my doors open and shut, probed my seats, tugged at the floor and then went through the trunk. Drug search, obviously. Because drug smugglers would really pick a guy with conspicuous Ohio plates to smuggle drugs into Canada. Eventually they came back in and told me I was free to go.
“I’ve got a question. Why is it I’m searched so frequently going into Canada?”
“Your hand was shaking.”
“Do you know why my hand was shaking? Because I’m not used to being treated like a criminal and asked insulting questions over and over. Do you know what that feels like?”
My tone of voice remained measured, soft and respectful, but the supervisor noticed me talking to his officer at this point and walked over. He took over the discussion.
“We’re trying to catch criminals here. If I had the manpower, I would search every vehicle.”
Waste your time and money pissing on my rights by searching every vehicle so you can catch a few criminals. Guilty until proven innocent, indeed.
The other highlight came when I told them about my laptop being searched the previous time.
“Do you know what it feels like to have someone take your computer away and search it without you even being present?”
“We’re trying to catch pedophiles.”
“By making innocent people feel like criminals?”
“What about the innocent children? I’d search 1000 hard drives to catch just one pedophile.”
These are the sort of people you deal with crossing the border. I tried to get them time and again to understand they are dealing with humans, not just robots driving cars. We have rights and feelings. But they shut down immediately, always with some stock response about crossing the U.S. border. Even when I told them that I’d written extensively about my displeasure with the way the U.S. treats people crossing our borders and that two wrongs don’t make a right, it fell on deaf ears.
Oh, and the best part? I heard a knocking noise all the way to Vancouver. When I got there, I was about to lift the hood to take a peek at the engine when I noticed they hadn’t even closed the hood. That was my knocking sound, a loose hood. A loose hood that could have presumably flown open and effectively blinded me. Thanks, guys.
M:
you are letting them win.
every time you engage them they win more.
keep your mouth shut and say as little as possible except “yes sir”.
then go on your way.
the more you engage in how much they “hurt your feelings” they are doing cartwheels inside.
you are validating their reason to be.
so, say little, smile and move on.
or maybe you should try a “yes” answer to the “are you a criminal?” question, just to see where it takes you???
no don’t, you would explode–just keep writing.
tootles.
Bo
Glad they didn’t find the cocaine hidden in the wheel well.
Seriously, what would happen if you refused to allow them to search your car? Do they not let you cross? Maybe you should have let them start searching, then pretended to be more and more uncomfortable, and when they let you go said “Thank God you didn’t find it!”
Bo,
I’m sure it does make some of them happy inside, especially the guy who searched my hard drive. He was a real sickie. But maybe I can make one of them think, one of these days. The officer who actually searched my car seemed like a more thoughtful guy than the rest. He chose not to search my laptop. What if what I said makes him think twice next time he is called upon to do something nasty next time? I say it was worth it, then.
Tom Paine,
“Going to Canada is a privilege, not a right”–I’m pretty sure that means they turn you around, yeah. But what you say about the cocaine is actually my great fear–how easy would it be for them to plant something? If this happens again, I will demand to be present during the search. It’s not an unreasonable request. I learn from these experiences–they already know the playbook, I am assembling it bit by bit.
And now I can publish my playbook on the internet so others don’t have to start off at square one when the bullies threaten them.
[…] Globe & Mail: Interesting article on U.S.-Canadian border security since 9/11. You know how I feel about the bullies at the border. Just check out this article, though, and see how sad it is that […]
[…] interrogations and allowed them to intimidate me into nervous responses that led to two full searches going into Canada. But soon I figured out what they wanted to hear (yes/no answers, no headshakes, […]
I used to cross from Detroit into Windsor when I was a student at the University of Michigan. It seems like Canadian border agents were ALWAYS jerks. My parents came to visit me once and we went across the bridge and they treated my 60 year old mom like she was Al Queda. Since then, I have flown internationally from Europe. Sometimes my flights have connections in Toronto. As an American, I am required to fill out a form for the Canadian Government before my plane lands. I have had Canadian customs agents at the Toronto airport literally scream at me for the crime of clinching this sheet of paper in my teeth. I had it in my teeth because I had bags in each hand and can’t really hold it with my damn toes. It seems to me that Canadian Customs agents go out of their way to dick with Americans. I wonder if this is some sort of “penis envy”. I imagine that they resent the fact that most Canadian airports have US customs agents (Dept of Homeland Security) manning US customs checkpoints on Canadian soil. Frankly, the fact that US uniformed agents man Canadian airports like this plays into the worst “Imperial Yankee” stereotypes that foreigners have about the US Government.
Before I hear it from my Canadian friends, let me qualify my previous post by saying that I’m sure American Customs agents are jerks to Canadians crossing south. What I Really want to know is why Canadians permit US customs to operate within their country. If I’m walking around in sunny California, I would not expect to be stopped and questioned by an English Bobby. So why are American NTSB Agents running security in Canada?
Yes we do. I am Canadian and have a NEXUS card meaning I should be a trusted traveler between Canada and US. I have and just did receive the same treatment trying to return to my own country. They even searched my cell phone apparently to find out if I bought the tires on my vehicle in Canada or the US. They are are a year and a half old with 40,000 kilometers on then. They obviously aren’t new!!!! Very frustrating!!! Tired (no pun intended) of feeling like a criminal.
Canadian Border Services and Canada Revenue – taxation are the same department. They have no one to answer to and do as they please. Because of this you find many with huge chips on their shoulders and there is absolutely nothing you can do if you have been treated poorly. I have travelled many times by car and air. My experiences with air travel returning to my home airport on my last commercial flight was horrendous. I had to see business meeting in NYC, left early on the first flight out at 6 a.m. My appointment was at 1 p.m. and returned on the same flight the next day. I travelled with a small bag. On my flght where many Buddhists all in orange. I waited through the maze that slowly wound into a choice of three booths. Once there they asked why I only stayed overnight. I guess my response was not the right one – and off to being subjected to deplorable behaviour. I was accused and interrogated for nine long hours. First I was there for a rendezvous, an affair in a strange country. Was my husband aware of my actions ? They could call and see if he was suspicious ? Who was I meeting there ? Where did we go, did he give me anything . Was there more than just my “lover” there ? Did we meet in public places? When that wasn’t even a feasible accusation I was placed in a room for hours so they could a observe me. They took my handbag and overnight bag, they emptied and reviewed all my belongings, ripped and tugged at linings. A total invasion and disregard for basic human rights. After the accusations he changed course and accused me of smuggling in my overnight bag. This bag contained a nightgown, robe, and my clothing from the day before. The bag had a VIA Rail logo on the front and top – this is a Canadian Rail service. I had remembered that the receipt was tucked into the side panel upon leaving the place of purchase a few weeks prior. I went over to the bag and was about the lift the zipper tab to show him the receipt. He jumped up, cranked his neck to look at me – he was 8 or so inched shorter than I and with spit flying and a purplish reddish face screamed that I was not to touch anything. Did I not know who I was speaking to. He was the law of the land. I needed to know my place. I told him he was an idiot. Via Rail is Canadian, the receipt was in the zippered compartment that he obviously failed to open. The cashier placed it in there. I also told him, if one was not allowed to travel for one day, then they should space the return flights. Once again he placed me in the observation room. Not long after I was allowed to go with a warning not to travel in such a short timeframe. I landed at 11 a.m. And got home at 11 p.m. A twenty minute drive from the airport to home. I had nothing to eat or drink in all that time. Was not entitled to inform my child or husband as to my whereabouts and to top it all off, because my car was at the parked longer than one day at the ParknFly – because of Canada Customs – an additional 51.50 was incurred to release my car.