Not welcome anymore

The persistent fog during New Year's Day kept our Toronto sight seeing tour short and mostly unspectacular... except for the split second the fog around the top of the CN tower vanished to snap this brilliant photo.

After this highlight we decided to depart for Buffalo early. I didn't mind at all. My gut-feeling told me that the re-entry to the US crossing land border might be another problem. And, my gut-feeling didn't stem from last night's tuna sandwich as we were soon to discover.

Approaching the border the young officer who served the second most unappreciated shift after New Year's Eve shift, the New Year's Day shift, asked a few questions while scrutinizing both our passports (an American passport and my German passport). After a few friendly minutes he wrapped a rubber band around both our passports. Next thing I know he dropped both of them into a mail-box-like opening in his booth and gave us directions to please proceed to the Customs and Border Protection Office.

Wow! Here we were, not knowing what the problem was. And, not understanding why both our passports were confiscated. Like brothers in crime we parked our car in front of the office building, strategically located in no-man's-land. Another officer "welcomed" us and walked us in. "Please take a seat. We'll call your name." "May I..." no, I may not know why I'm held here.

What followed was a 45 minute display of governmental power play and arrogance, disrespectful treatment, and tax-payers' money in action. A big sign on the wall read that it is prohibited to leave this room without permission from one of the officers. Does that mean I'm held here, without even knowing what the "crime" is I committed? Sure seems like it.

For 30 minutes we looked at idle work stations behind a glass divider. Once in a while an officer showed his face, only to vanish behind his computer or out of sight again. None of the waiting people was called for the longest time.

Finally, with bureaucratic precision my name was called. We walked up to the window and looked into a young man's face. Flipping the pages of both our passports he became more and more uneasy. He finally uttered "Actually, I don't really know what my colleague sent you in here for". Great! No, no need to apologize! I had fun spending 45 minutes in these air-conditioned halls.

Since we were here anyway, I wanted to inquire on my ESTA status. How long is the registration valid? Do I need to re-register every time I come to the US now? Is there a difference between land-border crossing and arrival by air? Was I really surprised that I didn't get any satisfying answer? I guess not.

At least, I'm not the only one who is somewhat confused and overwhelmed with the new travel regulations. The Italian family of five next counter obviously had committed the same crime as I did. The one of not being well informed before heading for the US.