Passport Pandemonium, Part 2

So it turns out the passport confusion wasn't over before I left for Europe. In fact, remember the lady I talked to at Border Control? The one who was so confident my passport wasn't invalid? Well, she was wrong. Yes folks, it's true. I travelled throughout Europe for a month on an invalid passport. Here's the story.

We arrived in the US yesterday evening, in Fort Worth Texas. With only an hour to catch our connecting flight to Utah, we raced over to customs. Having already passed through multiple security stations in Spain we didn't anticipate any problems. I was the last of our group of now four to face the Border Control Security Guard. This is about how our conversation went:

Guard: How are you doing?

Me: Great! I'm just happy to be speaking English again! (as I hand over the passport in question)

Guard: Oh really? Well then... [insert rambling Spanish phrases here]

Me: Oh no! (joking) Well, since I don't understand I might as well go back to Spain! (shared laughter)

Guard: (laughter stops) Have you ever reported your passport as lost or stolen? (after he just swiped my passport)

Me: Yes, right before I left, but then I found it. (I didn't take the time to explain everything- like how I didn't think I actually had ever reported it as such. In hindsight, would it have been better to deny ever having reported it? I'm not sure. In fact, it probably wouldn't have made a difference.)

Guard: Come with me.

Me: Ok??

I then followed him to a room in the far end of the airport where a surly looking woman stood guarding the room. At this point I had no idea what was going on or what they were going to do to me or have me do. I could only manage a "Is there something wrong?" before he walked away. He replied with, "Your passport is invalid" before he scared my customs form with a big red X and scurried off to resume his post, reviewing the passports of other weary travelers.

So... ya. There I sat in a room in the airport. No passport, no idea what was happening or how long it would take, wanting nothing more than to go home (by this point I'd been en route for over 12 hours, and had spent the previous night in the airport, trying to sleep, switching off between the cement floor and the plastic benched with armrests between each seat.) My group had no idea where I was or why it was taking so long, and when I asked the woman if I could just peek around the corner to tell them, she barked something at me like I was a prisoner attempting to escape or something, which resulted in me cowering back to my seat. Needless to say I refrained from talking to her anymore. That left me with only a sweet Indian family of four for company. Sadly we couldn't not communicate either. They just stared at me sympathetically. By they way they looked at me, I must have been a pretty sorry sight. I appreciate the consideration.

I've never wondered what it feels like to not be able to enter a country. As US citizens we found ourselves passing border control in every country with more ease than any other ethnicity with whom we stood in line. We were never questioned or stopped anywhere. But there I sat, trying to get into my own country, in the room where people sit who can't enter.

Finally a different guard came out of his office made of bomb-proof plastic windows with my passport in hand, asking for another form of ID. I gave it to him and after he asked more questions (this time I tried to explain more, and even mentioned the lady from his own department who had led me astray), he finally told me he was going to have to confiscate my passport and send it back (where to, I'm not sure. I'm only sure that I will never see it again- all of those beloved stamps! gone!). Although it was nice to be informed, it still didn't answer my biggest worry: entering the country. After having joked about it only half an hour before, was I actually going to be sent back to Spain? Or now, without a passport to my name, was I country-less? He assured me I could go home, I would just need to apply for another passport. Hallelujah! I've never been so relieved in my life.

Out in the hallway Ben and Steve were waiting for me. I've never been so happy to see them in my life. It was so incredibly considerate of them to wait for me, knowing we had such little time to make it to our flight. We definitely had to run... and this airport is one of those with a subway system in it to take you between portals... it's huge! Nevermind that our flight ended up being delayed for two hours. We still would have made it on time. But, that is another story for another post. Moral of this story however: hmm... there are a number of things I've taken from this experience. I'll leave it to you to take what you will.