Thursday, April 25, 2013
Saturday, April 13, 2013
The open ride of life
You know the "airplane effect" where you say things to the person sitting next to you that you wouldn't normally be that open about because you know you'll never see them again? Well, I just had a fleeting though that life is like an airplane ride so you might as well be open with everybody you have a chance to be because after life's over you'll never see them again.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
The 'Dan "I don't want to say"' experiment
This is a recount of what happened when I refused to state who I was when crossing the US/Mex border on April 3rd, 2013. My digital recorder was taken away and the recording erased by the BP agents so I wanted to write it all down before i forgot.
I moved into the final part of the line and pulled out my recorder. "Oh shit, the battery's not working." Scuffle, scuffle through backpack, "Damn, where are those damn batteries..? Oh, wait, the recorder's on hold."
I walked up to the agent with my arms crossed. "Don't give me any drama."
'What? how did she know?', I thought to myself.
She was a bigger lady and very matter of fact. "Your documents please."
"Nothing against you, I know you're just doing your job, I don't want to show them."
"You don't have any documents on you?"
"I do, I just don't want to show them. I want to go to San Diego"
She pulls out the orange slip to send me to secondary inspection apprarantly unaffected by the whole thing, "What's your name?"
"Dan"
"Dan..."
"I don't want to say."
She says "Dan..." and then, as she writes in the last name box, "I d.o.n.'t w.a.n.t. t.o. s.a.y. Ok, put your bag down beside you and grab it with your left hand. This way." As she leads me from behind steering me over to the seating area next to the counter facing the pedestrian booths and hands the slip to the very young officer and the older Philipino officer next to him and mentions some things about it and goes back to her post.
Just after I sit down a middle age Mexican man sits down in the same area with a big sigh about 6 chairs away. The three officers at the counter stare blankly at their screens clicking their mouses seemingly unaware of the bright orange slips laying beside them. Another young man comes into the area and sits in front of me and tells the cleaning lady how he got mugged last night and got all his ID stolen. He got called up and then the middle age guy got called up and sent back and then called again, "Ya me encontraste o sigo siendo pollo? [Did you find me yet or am I still a wetback?]" He said as he went back over to the counter.
A good 45 minutes went by and several others came through and I was beginning to get the idea they were avoiding me for some reason maybe to send a message since they knew I was doing it on purpose and I was wondering how long they'd make me wait and asking myself how long I was willing to wait.
"Daniel?" said the boyish faced very white agent.
I put down my book and went over.
"Where were you born?"
"No offense to you officer I know your just doing your job. I don't want to say. I just want to go to San Diego."
"Why don't you want to say where you were born?"
"I'm making a statement that the policy of enforcement has been over emphasized and is causing more harm than good."
"What harm is it doing?"
"It can incite violence and is ruining the environment in many areas." That didn't come out exactly the way I planned.
"Have you heard of a thing called an international border?"
"I'm aware of where we are."
"You know if you don't identify yourself we can keep you here for three days?"
Shrug. smile. I had no idea if that was true or not. It did make me wonder how that would work, but I figured it'd better to just not say anything.
"Ok. Have a seat."
Another 30-45 minutes went by and several more people went through. "Daniel?" this time looking directly at me and calling me over.
I don't remember now what questions he asked exactly but it was more of the same of him asking me to give personal info and me refusing. Then the two officers were behind me on my side of the counter. "Put your hands behind your back." He handcuffed me, not angry, and we walked in front of the pedestrian line with him holding my back and the other Philipino agent carrying my bag. I didn't notice if anyone was staring like I do when I'm in line and someone gets taken away in handcuffs wondering if it was an excessive use of force or not.
Once in the back holding room, "I'm going to release the cuff on your left hand and I want you to put it on the counter and not move it as soon as I do."
"Ok"
"Now the right. Spread your legs. Farther."
Both agents were there along with 3 other people in my position to my left with more agents. He patted me down more thoroughly than I've ever been patted down and the other agent helped him take everything out of my pockets as he asked me questions and tried to fill out a form and convince me to give him personal info.
"Ok, so where were you born?"
"Yeah, sorry again, I don't want to tell you that."
"Alright," he said appearing to understand, "You're gonna have stay here for a while if you don't tell me. You'll have to get finger printed. I don't think you want that you'll be here for a while."
"I don't want to say who I am, I'll follow the procedure if that's what it is and I have to."
"You'll get your stuff back and you're not under arrest."
"So why am I here? Am I being detianed?"
"You're being detained," answering the first question saying the word detained almost at the same time I did.
The other officer continued taking stuff out of my pockets and putting them on the counter, tinkerbell wallet, big wad of keys, cell phone, digital recorder. He couldn't quite get it out and realized it was because it was wired up to the my shirt collar.
"I can unclip it but I need to move my hand," I offered.
"Go ahead."
He stared at it for a sec and handed it to the other officer who asked, "was it recording?"
"Yup"
"We're going to have to erase this." he said to me.
"Why?" I asked.
"Federal property." said the young one.
"Yup" said the other "Illegal to record on federal property."
I looked at him and shrugged. He nodded which, looking back on it now, I think he took my shrug to be consent. I really had no idea if they were lying or not about it being illegal to record and, in my head, I was actually thinking well, if it's true than I guess it's ok to erase it, and I think he saw that in my face and took it as a consent and erased everything.
They put all my belongings including my shoe laces into my backpack. "You'll get all your belongings back." As they led me through another door passed the fingerprint counter into a large hallway. "Sit over there at the bleachers." he pointed to some plastic chairs under another counter with officers at computers. An older man scuffled over like I did trying to keep his shoes on without shoelaces and sat next to me. "Ya me entró frio." He said under his breath. I got the feeling he wasn't quite there all the way.
A young American guy with a tattoo on his arm sat in the chair on the other side of me.
"Hey. You got to keep your shoe laces, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm in here every day. All the officers know me." He explained that he has a warrant on him in Pennsylvania he lives in Tijuana, and every day he crosses to go to work in SD and everyday they hold him to see if Pennsylvania wants to come get him but they never do and then they let him go to work. "We could be back here 15 min or we could be back here 2 hrs, just depends on the mood of the agents doing the finger prints."
Intermixed with that info, I gave him my story as well. "You should've saved yourself some time and just told them where you were born."
"Maybe...this is kind of an experiment."
He asked me what I do and I told him all about Border encuentro.
"Oh, I see, you're a hippy." giving an approving chuckle.
"Yeah, I guess I am kind of." Later in the conversation we were talking about different ways they can identify us and he said "yeah, we're loosing our rights everywhere."
"A lot of people agree with that," I said although that wasn't the point of my protest. "What I don't get is why they don't just look me up at this point. I saw the agent pull my driver's licenses out when they took everything out of my pockets and he read my first and last name out loud and my birth date."
Just then, "Daniel?" said a very tall and somewhat overweight blond female officer who appeared to come out of nowhere, towering over me in a slightly annoyed voice.
"Yes?" looking up from my plastic chair hidden under the counter top.
"Where were you born?" now in a VERY annoyed tone.
"It really is no offense to you personally, I just don't want to say."
Now yelling, "HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE?"
"I don't know, the other officer mentioned you were going to take my finger prints?"
She stormed off down the hall.
My Pennsylvania friend turned to me, "She was pissed." I could tell he was kind of liking the whole action now. And the old man next me to me shivering just a little. "Hace frio verdad?" I said to him. It was a little chilly, but I think he was mostly scared.
The Pennsylvania guy turns to me and said something about how it seemed like she was going to hit me or something.
"When they get like that, I do everything I can to make sure I don't get riled up and say something personal."
About 20 minutes later... "DANIEL!?!" A very large black man in uniform had now stepped into the large female blonde officer's spot.
"Yes."
"WHERE WERE YOU BORN!! AND DON'T GIVE ME ANY BULL ABOUT FINGERPRINTS!" Although he was definitely yelling and acting pissed off, I got this overwhelming feeling that it was just an act although it was also a bit scary.
"I apologize. I don't want to say." I said in a very calm voice.
"STAND UP!"
I obeyed. He grabbed my arm and helped me scuffle down the hallway. Muttering frustrated phrases under his breath. We rounded the corner to his office, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Again very calmly, "I'm making a statement about the overuse of enforce at our borders. Nothing personal."
"YOU THINK YOU CAN COME INTO MY BORDER AND JUST DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU PLEASE?" We were now inside his office. "SIDOWN!" He yelled giving me a gentle push. He stayed standing, "WHERE WERE YOU BORN!"
"I don't want to say."
"WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO SAY?"
I started to explain but he cut me off. "HOW OLD ARE YOU?"
"41", I said instantly wondering if that wasn't a tactic to try to get me to divulge more personal info.
"WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE A TEENAGER WITH THESE SHENANIGANS. YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT?"
"I don't think..."
"THE ARE SHENANIGANS! Ok, if you don't want to tell me who you are I'll just send you back with the Mexican PD," this sounded very fishy to me. I shrugged and said, "Ok"
"He stood me back up and escorted me back to the bleachers, yelling at everyone in site, "I GOT THIS GUY, GET HIS FINGER PRINTS, FLORES, GET MEXICAN PD ON THE LINE I'M SEND THIS GUY BACK WITH THEM."
The Pennsylvania guy was really finding this interesting now. We were talking really low so they couldn't hear us. "he was saying some serious shit. He's the supervisor so he doesn't want to look bad in front of his inferiors like he can't handle a situation on his shift."
"yeah, i don't know if that's true about the Mexican police or not. I don't think so, but it could be." I said.
"HEY, STOP TALKING. I don't want to hear any talking." Came a voice from behind the counter behind and above us.
"Ok, sorry." said the Pennsylvania guy.
I few minutes later, I found myself at the fingerprint counter with an Asian agent with muscles bursting out of his uniform. "Ok you can go back and sit down now."
I went back over to the bleachers next to Pennsylvania We both wanted to talk but didn't want him to get into trouble and have to stay longer.
The supervisor came over again, but it seemed like a whole different person. "Daniel?" he said in a very nice calm voice. "Come on over here." He waved me to come with him instead of standing me up like last time. I walked with him back to his office, noticing him smiling the whole way. "Please, have a seat", as he sat down too. He had obviously changed strategies. "So where'd you go to college?" I just smiled and said, "sorry i don't mind conversing but I don't want to say anything to reveal my identity"
"That's ok. You don't have to tell me. No problem. So, tell a little more about why you're doing this. I'm really curious. I've been here for 12 years and I've never seen this before."
I explained again how enforcement is causing more harm than good and this was my protest against it. At this point I had been detained for almost 3 hours after standing in line for two and I was a little weary and hungry, but I was managing to think mostly clearly.
"What do you mean? Like what kind of damage is it causing?"
I gave him the clearest example that I could think of at the moment of how Operation Gatekeeper shut down most undocumented traffic in this area in the early 90s and it shifted into the desert and the number of people who died trying to cross went from 6-12 a year up to 300-400.
"Ok. So what are we supposed to do if some criminal wants to get into this country and hurt someone? We have to know who people are." Good point, I thought, but he didn't give me time to say it. "I know that 98% of the people who cross through here illegally are honest hard working people. Where do you think the people that come through here are from? Do you think they're all Hispanics?"
"By Hispanics, do you mean Mexicans?"
"Yeah"
"I think so, but you tell me, Central America?"
He shakes his head no.
"China?" I guessed.
"Iraq, Afghanistan."
Anyway, we went on this way with us both sharing our political viewpoints including me addressing his point about how enforcement is needed to identify criminals that could hurt someone by saying that it's true and it could save someone's life but that it's causing so much damage that it would be worth the risk that someone dangerous might get through. "The only solution, then, is to just open the border, then, right?" He said.
"Well, I don't know what the solution is, but i think getting rid of most enforcement and just letting people cross freely would be worth the risk at this point, because there are people who do harm on both sides of the border and this enforcement is causing separation and fear of the other that can lead to animosity and even violence and the infrastructure, the wall are ruining the environment." None of what I said seemed to annoy him or make him want to make a strong argument against it and he didn't try much, he just went on about some personal stuff about himself mentioning how he spends a lot of his free time helping poor "Hispanics" around where he lives. And that he was in the Marine Corps for twenty years and used to be more of hard-ass until he became a border patrol agent and started seeing the human side of things a bit more. Writing this it sounds kind of like he was just bullshiting me revealing personal stuff so that I'd reveal mine and, well, he might've been, but it seemed very sincere at the moment. All this talk was peppered with personal questions to me, but never with any pressure, "You're a college graduate aren't you?", "So where do you work?". I was half thinking I was ready to give up at this point and his tactics were sort of working on me and I revealed some personal info. I told him about Border encuentro and that I'm a Spanish teacher. The Border encuentro answer sparked a whole nother conversation about borders and immigration. When I said I'd rather not answer a question, he made sure to tell me that's no problem and just kept up the friendly banter.
"So, when are you going to send me off with the Mexican PD?" at this point knowing that he was never planning on doing that.
"You see, I don't even want to do that."
"So what are you going to do with me? The agent outside said that you could keep me for up to three days. I'm not saying I'm going to do this, but what if I don't reveal anything for three days, then what would happen?"
He got a half smile on his face that told me that the 3 day thing wasn't true, "I'm gonna turn you over to someone, I just haven't figured out who yet." This was probably kind of honest. "Maybe the FBI."
"Can't you just figure out who I am by finger prints or my name and birth date on my driver's license?"
"I have to get a commitment from you telling me who you are."
"But I could tell you I'm anyone don't you have to verify it anyway?"
"Oh yeah, we have to verify it too."
I decided to give up. I felt a little like maybe I was taking up too much of this guy's time. It had to be killing him to be this nice to me. Or at least that was my rationale at the time, maybe the hunger and tiredness was convincing me. "All right, I've wasted enough of your time, what do you want to know about me?"
Once I told him, he didn't say he was going to let me go, he just kept saying come with me, to different areas and continued to be super friendly. I had a fleeting though that maybe this was a trick or something to take me somewhere horrible, but that wasn't the case at all. Some agent said to him as she saw my file, "he doesn't have a record or anything?" kind of in astonishment of why I was back there. "Just giving you a hard time, huh?"
He didn't answer, and seemed sincerely ok with me and what I'd done and got my stuff and walked me personally out the door to the US as other agents made motions to do it for him, he waived them away and would say "I got this one, thanks."
He shook my hand.
"Sorry if I made you job difficult today."
"No problem, a pleasure meeting you." with the biggest smile yet.
I moved into the final part of the line and pulled out my recorder. "Oh shit, the battery's not working." Scuffle, scuffle through backpack, "Damn, where are those damn batteries..? Oh, wait, the recorder's on hold."
I walked up to the agent with my arms crossed. "Don't give me any drama."
'What? how did she know?', I thought to myself.
She was a bigger lady and very matter of fact. "Your documents please."
"Nothing against you, I know you're just doing your job, I don't want to show them."
"You don't have any documents on you?"
"I do, I just don't want to show them. I want to go to San Diego"
She pulls out the orange slip to send me to secondary inspection apprarantly unaffected by the whole thing, "What's your name?"
"Dan"
"Dan..."
"I don't want to say."
She says "Dan..." and then, as she writes in the last name box, "I d.o.n.'t w.a.n.t. t.o. s.a.y. Ok, put your bag down beside you and grab it with your left hand. This way." As she leads me from behind steering me over to the seating area next to the counter facing the pedestrian booths and hands the slip to the very young officer and the older Philipino officer next to him and mentions some things about it and goes back to her post.
Just after I sit down a middle age Mexican man sits down in the same area with a big sigh about 6 chairs away. The three officers at the counter stare blankly at their screens clicking their mouses seemingly unaware of the bright orange slips laying beside them. Another young man comes into the area and sits in front of me and tells the cleaning lady how he got mugged last night and got all his ID stolen. He got called up and then the middle age guy got called up and sent back and then called again, "Ya me encontraste o sigo siendo pollo? [Did you find me yet or am I still a wetback?]" He said as he went back over to the counter.
A good 45 minutes went by and several others came through and I was beginning to get the idea they were avoiding me for some reason maybe to send a message since they knew I was doing it on purpose and I was wondering how long they'd make me wait and asking myself how long I was willing to wait.
"Daniel?" said the boyish faced very white agent.
I put down my book and went over.
"Where were you born?"
"No offense to you officer I know your just doing your job. I don't want to say. I just want to go to San Diego."
"Why don't you want to say where you were born?"
"I'm making a statement that the policy of enforcement has been over emphasized and is causing more harm than good."
"What harm is it doing?"
"It can incite violence and is ruining the environment in many areas." That didn't come out exactly the way I planned.
"Have you heard of a thing called an international border?"
"I'm aware of where we are."
"You know if you don't identify yourself we can keep you here for three days?"
Shrug. smile. I had no idea if that was true or not. It did make me wonder how that would work, but I figured it'd better to just not say anything.
"Ok. Have a seat."
Another 30-45 minutes went by and several more people went through. "Daniel?" this time looking directly at me and calling me over.
I don't remember now what questions he asked exactly but it was more of the same of him asking me to give personal info and me refusing. Then the two officers were behind me on my side of the counter. "Put your hands behind your back." He handcuffed me, not angry, and we walked in front of the pedestrian line with him holding my back and the other Philipino agent carrying my bag. I didn't notice if anyone was staring like I do when I'm in line and someone gets taken away in handcuffs wondering if it was an excessive use of force or not.
Once in the back holding room, "I'm going to release the cuff on your left hand and I want you to put it on the counter and not move it as soon as I do."
"Ok"
"Now the right. Spread your legs. Farther."
Both agents were there along with 3 other people in my position to my left with more agents. He patted me down more thoroughly than I've ever been patted down and the other agent helped him take everything out of my pockets as he asked me questions and tried to fill out a form and convince me to give him personal info.
"Ok, so where were you born?"
"Yeah, sorry again, I don't want to tell you that."
"Alright," he said appearing to understand, "You're gonna have stay here for a while if you don't tell me. You'll have to get finger printed. I don't think you want that you'll be here for a while."
"I don't want to say who I am, I'll follow the procedure if that's what it is and I have to."
"You'll get your stuff back and you're not under arrest."
"So why am I here? Am I being detianed?"
"You're being detained," answering the first question saying the word detained almost at the same time I did.
The other officer continued taking stuff out of my pockets and putting them on the counter, tinkerbell wallet, big wad of keys, cell phone, digital recorder. He couldn't quite get it out and realized it was because it was wired up to the my shirt collar.
"I can unclip it but I need to move my hand," I offered.
"Go ahead."
He stared at it for a sec and handed it to the other officer who asked, "was it recording?"
"Yup"
"We're going to have to erase this." he said to me.
"Why?" I asked.
"Federal property." said the young one.
"Yup" said the other "Illegal to record on federal property."
I looked at him and shrugged. He nodded which, looking back on it now, I think he took my shrug to be consent. I really had no idea if they were lying or not about it being illegal to record and, in my head, I was actually thinking well, if it's true than I guess it's ok to erase it, and I think he saw that in my face and took it as a consent and erased everything.
They put all my belongings including my shoe laces into my backpack. "You'll get all your belongings back." As they led me through another door passed the fingerprint counter into a large hallway. "Sit over there at the bleachers." he pointed to some plastic chairs under another counter with officers at computers. An older man scuffled over like I did trying to keep his shoes on without shoelaces and sat next to me. "Ya me entró frio." He said under his breath. I got the feeling he wasn't quite there all the way.
A young American guy with a tattoo on his arm sat in the chair on the other side of me.
"Hey. You got to keep your shoe laces, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm in here every day. All the officers know me." He explained that he has a warrant on him in Pennsylvania he lives in Tijuana, and every day he crosses to go to work in SD and everyday they hold him to see if Pennsylvania wants to come get him but they never do and then they let him go to work. "We could be back here 15 min or we could be back here 2 hrs, just depends on the mood of the agents doing the finger prints."
Intermixed with that info, I gave him my story as well. "You should've saved yourself some time and just told them where you were born."
"Maybe...this is kind of an experiment."
He asked me what I do and I told him all about Border encuentro.
"Oh, I see, you're a hippy." giving an approving chuckle.
"Yeah, I guess I am kind of." Later in the conversation we were talking about different ways they can identify us and he said "yeah, we're loosing our rights everywhere."
"A lot of people agree with that," I said although that wasn't the point of my protest. "What I don't get is why they don't just look me up at this point. I saw the agent pull my driver's licenses out when they took everything out of my pockets and he read my first and last name out loud and my birth date."
Just then, "Daniel?" said a very tall and somewhat overweight blond female officer who appeared to come out of nowhere, towering over me in a slightly annoyed voice.
"Yes?" looking up from my plastic chair hidden under the counter top.
"Where were you born?" now in a VERY annoyed tone.
"It really is no offense to you personally, I just don't want to say."
Now yelling, "HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE?"
"I don't know, the other officer mentioned you were going to take my finger prints?"
She stormed off down the hall.
My Pennsylvania friend turned to me, "She was pissed." I could tell he was kind of liking the whole action now. And the old man next me to me shivering just a little. "Hace frio verdad?" I said to him. It was a little chilly, but I think he was mostly scared.
The Pennsylvania guy turns to me and said something about how it seemed like she was going to hit me or something.
"When they get like that, I do everything I can to make sure I don't get riled up and say something personal."
About 20 minutes later... "DANIEL!?!" A very large black man in uniform had now stepped into the large female blonde officer's spot.
"Yes."
"WHERE WERE YOU BORN!! AND DON'T GIVE ME ANY BULL ABOUT FINGERPRINTS!" Although he was definitely yelling and acting pissed off, I got this overwhelming feeling that it was just an act although it was also a bit scary.
"I apologize. I don't want to say." I said in a very calm voice.
"STAND UP!"
I obeyed. He grabbed my arm and helped me scuffle down the hallway. Muttering frustrated phrases under his breath. We rounded the corner to his office, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Again very calmly, "I'm making a statement about the overuse of enforce at our borders. Nothing personal."
"YOU THINK YOU CAN COME INTO MY BORDER AND JUST DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU PLEASE?" We were now inside his office. "SIDOWN!" He yelled giving me a gentle push. He stayed standing, "WHERE WERE YOU BORN!"
"I don't want to say."
"WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO SAY?"
I started to explain but he cut me off. "HOW OLD ARE YOU?"
"41", I said instantly wondering if that wasn't a tactic to try to get me to divulge more personal info.
"WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE A TEENAGER WITH THESE SHENANIGANS. YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT?"
"I don't think..."
"THE ARE SHENANIGANS! Ok, if you don't want to tell me who you are I'll just send you back with the Mexican PD," this sounded very fishy to me. I shrugged and said, "Ok"
"He stood me back up and escorted me back to the bleachers, yelling at everyone in site, "I GOT THIS GUY, GET HIS FINGER PRINTS, FLORES, GET MEXICAN PD ON THE LINE I'M SEND THIS GUY BACK WITH THEM."
The Pennsylvania guy was really finding this interesting now. We were talking really low so they couldn't hear us. "he was saying some serious shit. He's the supervisor so he doesn't want to look bad in front of his inferiors like he can't handle a situation on his shift."
"yeah, i don't know if that's true about the Mexican police or not. I don't think so, but it could be." I said.
"HEY, STOP TALKING. I don't want to hear any talking." Came a voice from behind the counter behind and above us.
"Ok, sorry." said the Pennsylvania guy.
I few minutes later, I found myself at the fingerprint counter with an Asian agent with muscles bursting out of his uniform. "Ok you can go back and sit down now."
I went back over to the bleachers next to Pennsylvania We both wanted to talk but didn't want him to get into trouble and have to stay longer.
The supervisor came over again, but it seemed like a whole different person. "Daniel?" he said in a very nice calm voice. "Come on over here." He waved me to come with him instead of standing me up like last time. I walked with him back to his office, noticing him smiling the whole way. "Please, have a seat", as he sat down too. He had obviously changed strategies. "So where'd you go to college?" I just smiled and said, "sorry i don't mind conversing but I don't want to say anything to reveal my identity"
"That's ok. You don't have to tell me. No problem. So, tell a little more about why you're doing this. I'm really curious. I've been here for 12 years and I've never seen this before."
I explained again how enforcement is causing more harm than good and this was my protest against it. At this point I had been detained for almost 3 hours after standing in line for two and I was a little weary and hungry, but I was managing to think mostly clearly.
"What do you mean? Like what kind of damage is it causing?"
I gave him the clearest example that I could think of at the moment of how Operation Gatekeeper shut down most undocumented traffic in this area in the early 90s and it shifted into the desert and the number of people who died trying to cross went from 6-12 a year up to 300-400.
"Ok. So what are we supposed to do if some criminal wants to get into this country and hurt someone? We have to know who people are." Good point, I thought, but he didn't give me time to say it. "I know that 98% of the people who cross through here illegally are honest hard working people. Where do you think the people that come through here are from? Do you think they're all Hispanics?"
"By Hispanics, do you mean Mexicans?"
"Yeah"
"I think so, but you tell me, Central America?"
He shakes his head no.
"China?" I guessed.
"Iraq, Afghanistan."
Anyway, we went on this way with us both sharing our political viewpoints including me addressing his point about how enforcement is needed to identify criminals that could hurt someone by saying that it's true and it could save someone's life but that it's causing so much damage that it would be worth the risk that someone dangerous might get through. "The only solution, then, is to just open the border, then, right?" He said.
"Well, I don't know what the solution is, but i think getting rid of most enforcement and just letting people cross freely would be worth the risk at this point, because there are people who do harm on both sides of the border and this enforcement is causing separation and fear of the other that can lead to animosity and even violence and the infrastructure, the wall are ruining the environment." None of what I said seemed to annoy him or make him want to make a strong argument against it and he didn't try much, he just went on about some personal stuff about himself mentioning how he spends a lot of his free time helping poor "Hispanics" around where he lives. And that he was in the Marine Corps for twenty years and used to be more of hard-ass until he became a border patrol agent and started seeing the human side of things a bit more. Writing this it sounds kind of like he was just bullshiting me revealing personal stuff so that I'd reveal mine and, well, he might've been, but it seemed very sincere at the moment. All this talk was peppered with personal questions to me, but never with any pressure, "You're a college graduate aren't you?", "So where do you work?". I was half thinking I was ready to give up at this point and his tactics were sort of working on me and I revealed some personal info. I told him about Border encuentro and that I'm a Spanish teacher. The Border encuentro answer sparked a whole nother conversation about borders and immigration. When I said I'd rather not answer a question, he made sure to tell me that's no problem and just kept up the friendly banter.
"So, when are you going to send me off with the Mexican PD?" at this point knowing that he was never planning on doing that.
"You see, I don't even want to do that."
"So what are you going to do with me? The agent outside said that you could keep me for up to three days. I'm not saying I'm going to do this, but what if I don't reveal anything for three days, then what would happen?"
He got a half smile on his face that told me that the 3 day thing wasn't true, "I'm gonna turn you over to someone, I just haven't figured out who yet." This was probably kind of honest. "Maybe the FBI."
"Can't you just figure out who I am by finger prints or my name and birth date on my driver's license?"
"I have to get a commitment from you telling me who you are."
"But I could tell you I'm anyone don't you have to verify it anyway?"
"Oh yeah, we have to verify it too."
I decided to give up. I felt a little like maybe I was taking up too much of this guy's time. It had to be killing him to be this nice to me. Or at least that was my rationale at the time, maybe the hunger and tiredness was convincing me. "All right, I've wasted enough of your time, what do you want to know about me?"
Once I told him, he didn't say he was going to let me go, he just kept saying come with me, to different areas and continued to be super friendly. I had a fleeting though that maybe this was a trick or something to take me somewhere horrible, but that wasn't the case at all. Some agent said to him as she saw my file, "he doesn't have a record or anything?" kind of in astonishment of why I was back there. "Just giving you a hard time, huh?"
He didn't answer, and seemed sincerely ok with me and what I'd done and got my stuff and walked me personally out the door to the US as other agents made motions to do it for him, he waived them away and would say "I got this one, thanks."
He shook my hand.
"Sorry if I made you job difficult today."
"No problem, a pleasure meeting you." with the biggest smile yet.
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