A few weeks ago I was visiting my cousin in Canada and on the way back I was "randomly selected" for a search. A bit of background --I own a name no borders recognize or call their own. My name is an interpretation and a derivative from a certain Argentinian man who helped spark the Cuban revolution... his face regularly appears on the shirts of college students. Some people consider him a saint and to others he is considered Satan. This detail will be important later on. You get the picture. My parents are both Christian immigrants speaking an ancient and dying language of ancient Mesopotamia, and of war torn Arab countries. I'm 100% American born and immersed in the culture. --
Anyway I go inside to customs or whatever the building is called that they sent me to and the Border patrol officers all seem like they are enjoying the fact that a bunch of immigrants are scared shitless of these guys even if the immigrants hadn't done anything illegal.
So I get called up by a BP officer about 6'4, short cut hair, blue eyes, sturdy built man, probably served a few years, let's call him Mr. Sir. I go up to the counter and he completely butchers my name so I respectfully and kindly correct him and Mr. Sir just goes ahead and says my name exactly the way he said it before in a "fuck you" kind of way. I can already tell this is going to go oh so smoothly. I say "yes! sir! that's! me!," feeling powerless but also answering in a jokingly "Fuck me, right?!" kind of way. He asks if I have any tattoos or if I consider myself to be Mexican. I say no and show him that I have no tattoos, I probably matched the description of a wanted person, no big deal.
Mr. Sir then asks what my profession is and I say that I am currently a student at "X" university. He scoffs at me and asks what I'm studying so I say "I'm studying computer engineering," and he says "Aren't you all.." so I get a little mad thinking what exactly is that supposed to mean but I maintain my composure.
Mr. Sir then asks me "do they teach plumbing at that there "X" university?" I genuinely thought it was a legitimate question and I respond slightly confused, "Uhhh I.. I don't really know sir. They might." the world is a crazy place they might actually teach plumbing at university. I don't know much about plumbing. So he looks over to his BP friend, grinning, and asks him "Huh do you think they teach plumbing or carpentry or construction at "X" university? You know like real men work." They both laugh and I realize the 'joke' went completely over my head.
...After he laughs he looks back at his computer screen and begins typing in a manner like I imagine most of our parents do. In that moment it was like Beethoven was composing the symphony that was that moment. OHHH the irony and nerve this man presented.. after he lectures me about "getting a real man's job" he types on a machine that was designed by the very people he just insulted; computer engineers. What a guy. It took all my strength not to point this out to Mr. Sir because I personally would rather not spend the night in a jail between the borders of two free nations.
Mr. Sir instructs me to sit down so I do. While I'm sitting down he asks me how I got my name. I tell him who I was named after and he says "Really?," I thought finally, he might be a little nicer to me. Mr.Sir proceeds with "You do know that this man was responsible for the deaths of so and so people. This man was a terrorist. You know you were named after a terrorist?"
I just sit there speechless as this man continues to roast my entire existence. My father was oppressed in his home country and he saw the man I was named after as a true revolutionary and a liberator. What an honor it was to have my father name me after a revolutionary he admired so greatly. It inspired me to live up to the expectations behind the definition to my existence that is my name. It's what inspired me to get into a top university to study computer engineering and be the first person to go to university in my family in the first place.
Mr. Sir keeps pestering me and asking me about my affiliations with various terrorist groups and such and I just keep pointing out that I've never been off this continent and I'm American born. I stay in there another few hours being questioned about things I've never heard of before that day until they finally let me go home.
This was just a few weeks ago on my first trip to Canada alone. I hope Mr.Sir is doing fine these days. It wasn't a very fun time or a considerably "great" first impression I had of travelling, needless to say.