Letters to the Editor
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One woman's not-so-unusual story
I cross the border about once a month or so, between Vancouver, BC and Seattle, WA and have done so for the past 4 years. You see, I met a lovely man online and we are now, what, boyfrend and girlfriend? With intent for a future together? He finds our parliamentary system quaint and our liquor laws draconian; I find that American cheese is atonishingly cheap and I pray I won't take ill each time I head south. He drives up, I take the train or Amtrak bus. The treatment he receives coming north is waaaay different than mine heading south.
Apart from the long lineups that can be over two hours long, coming north he has been asked why he's visiting, do I know he's coming (what, they're protecting me from American stalkers now?), the firearms question (do you own a gun?), and whether he's bringing gifts (I always hope so). Once, on his return to the US, he was asked if he had ever visited the Soviet Union (my personal favourite).
Heading south, we are all removed from the bus, must take our luggage though immigration and have it inspected and xrayed and, on occasion, are lined up against a wall to be sniffed by drug dogs. I'm asked what I do for a living, how long I'm staying, why don't I have a return ticket and that the next time I cross I'd better have one or I won't be let in. When asked why I'm crossing, if I say just visiting they want to know who I'm staying with; if I say I'm visiting my boyfriend they want to know everything about us - how long we've been seeing each other, where we met, whether we intend to get married and why or why not? I was detained (and the bus I was on) for over an hour, questioned in a back room, threatened with being returned and finally had my passport stamped with a B-2 stamp and sent off, simply because I was coy about how we met (I'll never do that again). I work on a contract basis in a profession that scarcely exists in the States, yet I'm always treated like I'm heading south to steal jobs and take advantage of the American social system. Now, I have to say that I realise that my treatment is mostly due to my mode of transportation; that is, the hassle comes from the perceived notion that if I'm travelling Amtrak I must be poor and deficient and desperate and I want disappear the second I cross the border, so it's a question of class prejudice in general, not anti-Canadianism in particular. And I cringe everytime a non-caucasian is on the bus with me, because I know we're in for a long delay, no matter what their passport says.
All that being said, I still go through it because I want to see him. I know what I'm letting myself in for and I've prepared and polished my cross-border spiel to a high gloss. I know I'm not a criminal, but it's hard not to feel like one sometimes. No amount of grilling a caucasian, middle-class, middle-aged woman will stop the influx of "undesireables", but I grimly bear it. I come from a long line of border-crossers: farmers in the 1800s immigrating to Washington State from Ontario, Vermonters coming to Quebec in the 1900s. I wouldn't mind having an easier time of it, but not at the cost of my country's sovereignty. I wish that 9-11 hadn't happened and that you, being hammers, didn't see everything and everyone as a nail, but if I wish to visit the US I have my passport in hand. I know the routine.
Most problems that Americans have at the Canadian border come from DHC directives, in the interests of "harmonization of security"
By the way, the guarantors who sign a Canadian passport application attest to the fact your photo is in fact of you. One more step in stopping fraud.