Travelling to the US in the Trump Era

The terrible stories are all well-known by now. US President Donald J. Trump's ill-fated executive order to ban entry for people from seven predominantly Muslim countries created pandemonium in US airports as friends and families were detained. The ban drew fierce protests within the US and abroad and court challenges. By the time I reached Atlanta, a federal US judge had slapped a stay on the order. That order is still in limbo. 

I was returning after a longish stay in Dhaka with my octogenarian mother. Many expatriates who visit Bangladesh will recognise my feelings at the time of leaving Dhaka. It's an inexplicably bittersweet mixture of emotions. An anticipation of leaving for my adopted home in the US is compounded by a wrenching pain of leaving what was once my home in Bangladesh.

Thanks to Trump, the fear of immigration hassles was now an added worry. 

The long flight via Doha was unremarkable. Well, about as unremarkable as it can be on a long-haul economy flight where people are herded like cattle into the aircraft and packed like sardines once inside it. 

After I reached Atlanta, my mini ordeal began. US immigration has gone high-tech now. Immigrants and US passport holders now display their green cards/passports on a machine which spits out a piece of paper. If everything is in order, you are good to go. You just have a perfunctory word with an immigration officer, who takes your photo and passes you on to go through customs.

Alas, I was not so lucky. The slip I got had a cross mark, and I was sent to a secure waiting room. My green card and passport were taken away from me for further inspection. The immigration officer who interacted with me, I should add, was quite pleasant.

In the waiting room, I joined a diverse group of recent arrivals. Young women and men, apparently travelling alone, a young couple with children, an elderly Bangladeshi couple whom I had briefly chatted with. 

The fear and tension on everyone's eyes was abundantly clear. Everyone here shared a deep feeling of insecurity, I felt, because at the end of the day – whether one can enter the US depended entirely on the whim of a US immigration officer. 

The wait was terrible. I suppose we all tried to brush away morbid thoughts of the many horror stories most of us might have heard. Just before leaving Dhaka, a friend had informed me that even people with green cards were being made to wait for long hours, some had even been sent back. (This became a huge legal issue, and it was one of the reasons a US federal court issued a stay on Trump's order.) I had heard of raids in Atlanta suburbs by immigration officers. 

One by one, many of those waiting were allowed to go. I saw the Bangladeshi elderly couple leave and go through customs. Their baggage was thoroughly searched. I watched in shock as their clothing and small gifts were all laid out and at the end of a day-long flight, they were obliged to put it all back in. But despite a wearying ordeal, they had a look of relief as they slowly, tiredly trudged towards the exit, pushing their trolley full of hastily repacked luggage.

After about 40 minutes, my name was called. I was given my passport and green card and told I could go. I picked up my documents, thanked the officer and went to get my luggage. Soon I was out and I rushed to an airport café to grab a coffee and calm my nerves.

There have been a few occasions before when the same thing had happened to me. To this day, I don't know why I am detained on some occasions and allowed to enter the US on others. I've never asked. But I have always wondered: Don't the records show that I have been travelling from the US multiple times for years? 

In the Trump era, according to news reports, US immigration authorities are acting more aggressively. There are heart-breaking stories of undocumented workers being held. Even legal immigrants can be harassed for minor infractions of the law. 

The vast bulk of US immigrants are hard working, law-abiding people who make a critical contribution to the nation. Yet, suddenly it is open season on them. I fully recognise the US government's right to protect its borders, but there appears to be a new, inhumane animus toward immigrants that is deeply disturbing. 

For many of us who have come from far-flung parts of the world and made the US our home, America is beginning to feel a little different, a little strange. 

The writer is an Atlanta (US) based freelance journalist.