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IN PRISON - the true story GR: Dude, what happened? Why aren't you in the US, and did you get stuck there? JT: I want to make it clear that I wasn't deported and I'm not banned from the States. I was "refused entry" for having overstayed in the past using the visa that I had. So now I have to reapply for a work visa but that means I need a sponsor. |
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I was in a room with a few other people who were having problems getting
in the country when a snooty immigration officer with a little moustache
comes in with a young woman obviously giving a tour, and he says to her,
so that we can all hear, "Look at all the happy faces of the people who
won't be coming into America today." "Ugh. What a dick," I thought. I was later taken into a room by another officer who had to take my fingerprints. He hadn't said a word to me when he pointed to a mark 12 inches in front of me and barked "Stand!" like I was fucking dog or something. That pissed me off because I felt there was no need to rude. So I thought I would fuck with him and answered him back in my crispest English accent. "Is this the spot you are referring to?" He looked at me confused as if he normally dealt with people who "no speaky English." He then took my hand and started to dip my fingers in ink and then on paper at which I said, "Wow I've never had a man hold my hand for so long before." This made him uneasy and he let out the silliest little laugh. I was then taken to a "waiting room" as they called it. I thought, "Ah, that doesn't sound so bad." But I started to get a little suspicious when they wouldn't allow me to take anything into it. I asked if I could take my notepad and pen, but no pens were allowed. We walked over to the waiting room, the door was opened, I stepped in, and before I realized where I was I heard the door slam close behind me. I was in a cell with a metal bench, metal table, and a metal toilet bowl that flushed automatically every few hours. Everything was screwed down to the floor. I was in there for 14 hours. GR: Who were your cell mates? JT: Throughout the day there were different people in there, and sometimes I was alone. There was one guy they kept talking to, so he didn't spend too much time in the cell but they kept bringing him back so that he could take a shit. He had diarrhea or something, and he had really bad timing because he would come in right after the automatic flush. And I would have to sit there for another two or three hours before the next flush. This Ethiopian guy was there for a few hours. He turned to me after 20 minutes and asked me which prison I was from! I told him I wasn't. Apparently he had just served a few years sentence in some state prison for robbery and was being deported back to the Ethiopia. There was also a Canadian guy in there for a few hours. He was flying back to Canada from South America and wasn't even planning to go to the States but his plane got delayed and so had to stay the night in Atlanta. But because he had a criminal record in Canada for some sort of computer fraud, he was an undesirable and was put in jail for the night while the airline put his girlfriend up in a fancy hotel. GR: What was the vibe like? Is it really strict, or was it mellow? JT: The vibe wasn't all that bad. I mean, these guys kind of get off on their power to let people into the country. The guy I dealt with was doing his job and we chatted a bit and he made it clear that I could come back to the U.S. as long as I had a valid visa. He was all right. Some of the other immigration officers were dicks, though. I was standing in the hallway waiting when one of them just pushed me out of the way, like I wasn't even a person. I wasn't a criminal. I didn't commit a crime. I hadn't harmed anyone in anyway whatsoever. I was in the cell for 14 hours I was getting cold in there and no matter how long I banged on the door to get my jacket no one came. I started to do push-ups to keep warm and then realized that I was beginning to behave like prisoners I see on TV doing weights all day long. GR: How's chillin' where you're at? JT: I really love it here. Buenos Aires is a great city and I've made a lot of good friends. I think there's been a misunderstanding that I'm here because I'm "stuck," but I'm not stuck. I choose to be here. I could go home to Hong Kong or to Britain or anywhere in Europe to work and live. GR: What are you doing? JT: I'm cooking, eating really great steaks (the best in the world), taking Spanish lessons, playing my guitar, and drinking! It's the hard life. I've been backpacking through Bolivia and I spent two weeks in the jungle where I was devoured by a thousand mosquitoes. I was in Salta, a city in the north of Argentina riding horses for a while, too. All in all I think my experience with the INS was a blessing in disguise because I've had a great year and I realized that I can continue acting anywhere, in Hong Kong or in London. I used to think I had to be in L.A. to make it, but I don't think that anymore and I feel a certain sense of freedom. For years, I wanted to live in another country for a year to learn a new language but didn't because I didn't want to miss an audition. I realize now that sometimes your own dreams can imprison you. Now I feel fired up again about acting. |