“One does not know the value of freedom until one has it taken away” – Anthony Ray Hinton.
The moment I heard the officer saying that the format of my legal documents was not eligible for me to enter Mexico, I was terrified. I did consult others (including a lawyer) before deciding to get here so I did not doubt this could happen. Yet, it is life, you never know what might occur.
My next question was “What can I do?” and one immigration staff replied “You have to return to America either today or tomorrow”. I did not forget to ask “So if tomorrow, where will I stay?”. He said “in the immigration room, safety, ok”. This was extremely unfortunate. I asked him “Can I at least make a call to my friend to share that I cannot come to his wedding”. He granted me to do so, however, since the internet connection was weak, the last message I could send to my friend was “Yeah it sucks, I will have to return to the U.S”.
Then, some officers including police armed to take me to a dark and small room where they started taking away my legal documents and my phone. I honestly did not know what they were up to and was not allowed to ask either. The room had a few folks but they looked sad, exhausted, and negative. I thought I might be investigated and imprisoned or something like that. The police in the room definitely did not look friendly. Plus, the worst thing was that not many of them are fluent in English. I was anxiously waiting, to see what is next.
That was also the last time I could see my phone and was the beginning of commands after commands (mostly in Spanish) such as “do this”, “put that there”, and so on. After verifying some of my information, they took me to another room which is the “immigration room” the officer mentioned at immigration border. At a first sight, I was scared. The room looked not clean, and there were people who dressed without much clothes as well as who seems to be tired, frustrated, and dangerous. I told myself “No, I do not deserve to be here, this is terrible”. The room had some chairs, some bunk beds, some mattresses, lots of people and luggage.
Someone who looked not like people who get in trouble like me but more like people who can command told me to untie my shoes. And again, I was terrified by the unexpected. “Why should I do so?”, “Perhaps, they want to prevent me from running away?”, those thoughts were crossing my mind. I think I have got used to the way in America people give you heads-up and communicate everything so that you know if it makes sense. However, I had to remind myself that this is not America. This might fall into racism matter, yet, I would have to say that this way of treating people is very dehumanized and degrading themselves. Any electric device was taken away, including watches. So, we were by ourselves, no cell phone (which means no external contact), no passport or documents, untied shoes, not knowing what time and how long we would be here, who knows what would happen next?
Plenty of negative imagination were running through. What if they would keep me here forever? What if they would take me to somewhere dangerous? What if they would do something harmful to me? Who would witness that and protect me other than myself? It was incredibly hard to stay optimistic in that kind of environment where you were stripped off without reasons and without a vision for future. I have heard enough not positive things going on in Mexico to worry about my own destiny at the moment. The room to me almost felt like a mini concentration camp, and it was stinky. The more I thought about it, the more I felt it could turn good people into bad ones. There was no identity on oneself and we were strange to each other, all hoping to get out of here as soon as possible, but helpless. As bad as it could be, I know zero Spanish to even ask properly basic things. The staffs there did not even call people by names very often, they pointed and directed us to do things, as much as how you would communicate with a dog, except, in the U.S, dogs are even called by their names.
Thankfully, there was a television which was showing a part of ‘Encanto’ Disney animated movie. This warmed my heart a bit, as if, well if they show Disney, they could be empowering too, or maybe this was just a random display from television. Best of all, I had a book with me to kill time and to stop the negative thoughts going on. Although I was not able to stop feeling bad for all of us here, being treated poorly and unfairly. It hurt every time I had to think about the fact that without proper documents, you can be treated differently from others who are either American, Mexican, or having tourist visas to enter Mexico. Never ever, my freedom was being threatened this much, when I did not get to ask what I want to know, do what I want to do, and say what I want to say, and all by myself in this immigration border. With the power the officers here gave themselves, they could totally send me back to Vietnam, or another country, instead of America. Every minute passing by felt like hours, which made the night become so long. I went to rest in a mattress, crawling my body in a defense mode, but I could not sleep right away even though I was really tired after the flight and all of these troubles. The light was too bright, the television just went on and on with action movies, people were talking loudly in Spanish, man, how worse this could be.
I had nothing to do other than revisiting my thoughts. The possibility of “what if tomorrow is my last day” just appeared so clearly and cruelly. I started thinking about how many things I have not got to do and if I get a chance to go back to the States, I will do them all. But what if I really have to go back to Vietnam, well, that will suck at this time, I am not ready yet. However, it would be okay either way, I just wanted to get out of this situation first. I missed my friends, including a guy I have been dating in America. I wanted to go back to normal routine of writing code. I wanted to pursue entrepreneurship dream. Yet, in this challenging moment, love matters the most.
While being busy with thinking, I heard some harsh steps on the mattress next to me. I removed my jacket out of my face to take a look. There was a woman just crawling there, she seems to be in distress. 10 minutes later, she burst into tear, she was both crying and complaining in something like Spanish. Perhaps, she was worried about what would happen to her. I tried to stay calm, to breath, and to bring myself into sleep. Time kept passing by, though, I could not tell whether it was midnight. Not to mention, it was really hot in the room. There was only one fan and too many people. Even when I took off my jacket, the heat still hit me hard. It made it harder for me to fall into sleep.
The mattress was laid on top of some toys. There were some noises from kids playing toys down below my legs, it was already morning I guessed. I slept poorly in the noise and the stressful atmosphere. I was grateful that the airline was giving me foods, twice in the afternoon and in the night. I thought I only needed one so I gave the other one to a woman who came with her little daughter. They seem to be underrepresented and really needed help. When I just got into the room, she was shaking her head as if something was about to happen.
There was one woman approaching me and asked me why I am here. In this kind of situation, it seems that we connected with each other through the adversity. I told her my legal document was not accepted, that I am studying and working in America, and that I came to Mexico for a friend’s wedding. She then stared at me “You came from America, then what are you doing here?? Fuck the weddings because you might not be able to come back”. She seems mad because when she got to America, she did not want to leave, everything was great compared to her country – Brazil, she said that you have to be rich to be able to sustain living there. She told “Must be a good friend huh?”. It was a quick chat but enough to see that how she wanted to find a better environment for herself. “Try Australia if you are sent back to Vietnam” was her last advice.
Given not the most humanized situation, humility still existed there. Whenever there was one person being able to continue with their flight, people were clapping as to remind themselves that “later, it will be me” besides congratulating to that person. Moreover, they were so willing to help. I do not speak Spanish so a couple of people there were offering help to translate what the officers said to me and to bring up my questions as well. I was so happy to see that we could care and connect with each other at a basic level. When eventually being allowed to leave, I did not forget to say goodbye to some of them that I talked to.
Every time being called was a hope. One time, my name was called in the morning and I thought it was my turn to go to my flight. I was pulling the luggage out why one officer stopped me and said no. It turned out that there was a flight attendant and a couple of police men ready to take me to somewhere. They did not say anything and I did not ask as I was not sure I would get an answer. We walked through duty free shops and security. That was my first and last time getting to explore Mexico international airport. They kept watching me to make sure I did not run away. Then we stopped at a Covid test station. I asked the flight attendant “so I will take a Covid test?”. She replied “yah, they did not explain to you?”. I did not say anything other than following the order there, but yah, I wish I got some heads-up or instruction.
The time had come. Some officers escorted me to my flight. They still did not allow me to tie my shoes and they kept all my documents. Only when I stepped into America’s territory, a flight attendant handed back to me my passport. “Phew, I am back safely!”. I was so happy the moment I saw Dallas from above high, and that I got to hear some loud voice saying “Hello”, the smiles. I did not know I would miss my loud, friendly, and nice America that much. Here I am, thank you America where you get a freedom to be who you are, to do what you want, to follow what makes sense, and to be respected as an individual.
