There was a simpler time in my life when I thought that during a trip to the lovely country of United States the hardest part was entering it. I’ve heard many scary stories from my friends who said how unlawful and cruel the American customs officers are, when they make you take of your shoes and steal all of your liquid containers. So every time I went to States, I was literally terrified that one of my buddies left some weed by accident in my backpack or, worse, I have a signed picture of Osama Bin Laden as a bookmark in one of my books. However, all of these was before I had a very exciting encounter with Canadian customs officers on my way back to Toronto.

Back in summer of 2008, I was living in Bay Area, while on an internship with one of the IT companies there, call it XY Inc. In the end of August it was the time to head back to school, so I booked my plane ticket, San Francisco – Toronto, through Air Canada. Given that the Toronto International is stupidly one of the most expensive airports in the world, my preferred way of getting home is usually through Buffalo. However, this time I was way too lazy and resistant to extending my trip by the extra two hours of driving on QEW, so Air Canada was my airline of choice. As I realized in the near future after that and so will you, it was a big mistake.
It’s been about 4 months since the last time I was in the Great White North, so I was quite excited to go back. I packed all my crap in one gigantic suitcase and whatever didn’t fit there, I threw in a big gym bag. It was finally time to head out and to get to the airport and I decided to use one of the airport shuttles. My driver ended up being a hillarious Russian dude, who told me almost his entire life story on my way to San Francisco International, but that’s a different story.
In anyway, everything was going great. I was in the great mood and pretty well rested. Assuming that I will not be able to sleep, I picked up myself a pretty good read for the flight - Rigged by Ben Mezrich. For those of you who don’t know who Ben Mezrich is, he is the guy who wrote bestsellers such as Bringing Down the House and Busting Vega$. And for those of you who don’t give a tiny rat’s ass about books and have never heard of Bringing Down the House, it is the book that the recent Hollywood flick 21 is based on…
Well, going back to the point, I finally got on board of 747 with a huge red maple leaf on its fuselage. Unfortutanely, my trip back to the big T.O. wasn’t going to be a direct one and we had to make a 3 hour stop in Calgary. I couldn’t care less about the delay since I was around 150 pages into Rigged and it looked like it was going to keep me well entertained. However, what I didn’t realise was that Calgary was the point of my physical entrance to Canada and, thus, I had to go through the customs… That’s when the shit started hitting the fan.
To begin with, I had to go to the baggage claim to find all of my stuff. Moreover, when I got to the customs, the crowd there was enormous. There were at least 500 people spread over 10 single long lines. I fished out my passport from my bag and got ready to enjoy the wait. The line I was in was moving ridiculously slow. People in front of me started freaking out about missing their connecting flights and quietly complaining to each other about how stupid the system is.
Finally, after over 30 minutes of waiting, it was my turn to talk to the lovely customs lady. She looked about 45 and pretty harmless. Boy, was I wrong… She spent good 5 minutes studying my passport and asking my pointless questions such as “Have you declared everything?” and “Are you bringing in any illegal substances?”. I was as clean as a catholic virgin, so my answers were firm and assholish “No”s. My guess is that she didn’t really dig that. She drew a big red cross on my declaration form and told me to proceed.
I continued down a narrow dark hallway thinking that was it, until I noticed a big “nightclub-bouncer-looking” black dude, who was checking everyone’s declaration forms. He immediately saw the big red cross and arose in front of me like a gate of a medieval castle. He took my form, gave it a couple of disapproving stares and finally blessed me with a two-word phrase – “Go there!”. He pointed to the big open space to the right of me where I could see 3 or 4 tables that looked much like supermarket checkout lanes. Another customs officer near of one of the lanes told me to put all of my luggage on the counter and wait. I had absolutely no idea what I was going on, so I obeyed.
10 or so minutes later, the customs lady from earlier came out of the service door nearby. I finally snapped out of it and asked:
- “What is going on?”
- “You are a subject of random baggage check.” – answered the lady – “Please remove all belongings from your suitcases and bags and place them on the counter-top.”
“F**king A…” – I thought to myself. It took me good two days to pack everything in, so I was not pleased. Given that I had no other choice, I started unpacking all of my crap and she began throughfully examining it. Good thing that my stop-over was 3 hours long, since the whole procedure look like it was going to take a while. To calm myself down I tried to make some small talk:
- “So, does this happen to a lot of people?”
- “I can’t say.”
- “I see. Are you looking for anything specific? Maybe I can point you in the right direction.” – said I, stepping towards the table and putting my hands on one of my bags.
- “I can’t say. I’d prefer if you stay away from the table and not talk.” – responded the customs woman without even looking up.
Clearly, this was not going well. I shut up and stepped away. She looked through absolutely everything including the insides of my 3 pairs of shoes. She finally looked up and told me to take everything out of my carry-on laptop bag. I started getting more pissed off:
- “There is nothing, but my laptop there. Do you really need to see that? ”
- “Yes. Please remove your laptop and turn it on.”
- “Why?”
- “I need to make sure it is a working machine.”
I figured that was their way of checking that I’m not hiding packs of cocaine inside of my crappy old Compaq, so I obeyed again. It got weirder from there:
- “Please, enter your password.” – requested the customs bitch.
- “Why?”
- “I need to check your files?”
- “Why do you need to do that?”
- “I need to verify that you are not carrying any child pornography.”
Wow…. Do I look like a freaking pedophile? I’m 21-year-old dude from Ontario. For all I know, some people would consider naked pictures of me as child porn:
- I don’t have any child pornography.
- Well, that is what we are going to find out.
- OK, fine – I didn’t want to argue and delay the process any longer. Plus, I knew that even if I tried to resist she would end up getting what she wanted. Also, I thought I didn’t have anything to hide and it would take her million years to look through each one of my files anyway. I entered my password and pushed the laptop back to her. Watching her work it was priceless. Imagine how would a brainless monkey look with an iPhone. Her awkward attemps to use the touchpad finally got her to open up “My Pictures”. Damn… I suddenly realized that I did have something to hide. It’s no child porn, but it’s not something I want a random stranger to see. I obvisiously had some revealing pictures of my girlfriend, but who doesn’t? If you’ve ever dated anybody long distance, you would understand. I started protesting:
- Excuse me. I would appreciate if you do not look through my photographs. Those are personal. Plus, do I look stupid enough to hide my child pornography in “My Pictures” folder? I would probably be somewhat more creative regarding where I hide it.
- I have to look through everything.
- But isn’t this invasion of privacy?
- “We are allowed by law to inspect all of your belongings, even digital ones.” – proudly responded my searcher. I figured she was happy about herself for saying word “digital”.
- “Fine, do whatever you want.”
I had no idea what to do or say anymore. She started making her way through my pictures. Eventually, she came accross my girlfriend photos:
- “What is this?”
- “Those I pictures of my girlfriend? Those are private, is that not clear to you?”
- “I apologize, but I have to look through them.”
- “Whatever… Enjoy…” – who is the pervert now, I thought to myself.
- “How old is she?” - What the hell kind if question is that? Does she look like a 9-year-old Thai boy???? That bitch was getting on my nerves.
- “Even though, it’s none of your business, she is 22.” – that’s right, she is even older than me, you dumb-ass.
- “What is her name?”….
Anyways, this interrogation went on for good 10 minutes. I’m not going to go into any more details. In summary, she kept asking stupid questions and looking through the rest of my pics. In the end, I was really pissed. I was trying to keep myself from yelling at her, so I stuck to simple one word answers – “Yes”, “No” and “Sure”. Finally, she finished her inspection and instructed me to pack up. I grabbed all of my stuff, quickly threw it into my suitcase and started walking away. I heard her say “Good day, sir”. I ignored it at first and kept walking. I couple of seconds later I turned around and yelled: “I hope you enjoyed that. I’ll let you know when we release a DVD.”
I walked to the terminal and went in to the first bar. I grabbed a cold pint of Canadian. Sign read “Welcome to Canada”. It was good to be home.
December 19th, 2008 at 9:47 pm
This hasn’t been proof read, so if you see any spelling mistakes, let me know.
December 20th, 2008 at 3:21 am
So when’s the DVD come out? Can’t wait to watch it
December 20th, 2008 at 5:06 am
great writing,
but you decided to cut right through the climax of the story and end it with a summary which was the only thing i didn’t like. in my opinion thats the only part you shouldn’t have summarized.
I’m glad you didn’t end up with a strip search
thats the first thing that came to my mind when i first saw the yellow sign above.
December 20th, 2008 at 11:47 am
Thanks Sina, maybe I will write the end at some point.
December 20th, 2008 at 2:51 pm
You are such a terrorist. Ridiculous!
This was a good read, though I’ve never had anything like this happen to me at the border. I’ve always left/entered through Toronto. Maybe Calgary is just a bit fd up…
Of crap, I guess I’d better erase my child pornography hahaha
December 21st, 2008 at 11:33 pm
Man, i’ve had to deal with canada customs “randomly rummaging through my crap” as well, but at least they did it by “losing my luggage” and then sending it back to me a day later, bag zipper broken and poorly duct-taped together with a friendly “random screening” tag attached.. although sounds like you had alot of fun with the customs lady
December 25th, 2008 at 12:31 pm
hahaha Raheel…..keep dreaming! lol
April 25th, 2010 at 1:15 am
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July 16th, 2010 at 9:01 pm
yup that is the kind of people working our customs counters. I get that sort of thing all the time. The most annoying thing is they are total idiots, the ones that do this. They think they are cops and our government gives them all that power. Oddly, one of the wrost experiences was a return flight from SanFrancisco. The guy was determined I was on blow. Checked everything, put all my wallet contens under blacklight etc. I havent even had a beer in years. Meanwhile Allah allah islams were pouring into Canada. And we all know the pedophiles are the “upstanding” types they never check.
I find the females to be the worst. They want to show their power and its ridiculous. They start with my respect then lose it with their retarded behaviour.
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October 17th, 2010 at 11:24 am
I was reading something else about this on another blog. Interesting. Your position on it is diametrically opposed to what I read before. I am still pondering over the different points of view, but I’m leaning heavily toward yours. And no matter, that’s what is so super about modernized democracy and the marketplace of thoughts online.
October 27th, 2010 at 1:54 pm
I had to deal with them too.. But my experiences were even worst. I’ve been interrogated 4 times by them! Each time they claimed it was a “random” check. The first time i got harassed was at the gate in the country I was visiting, departing back to Canada. This man came running and screaming “Excuse me this a random check!” checked out my passport and asked if I was born in Canada and I said “Ya, whats the problem?”, “oh nothing sir this was just a random check”.. The guy had a British accent and he was harassing me about being Canadian??.. that one wasnt bad, it was just a taste of bad experiences I would encounter everytime I travelled. It was my last flight that was bad. I was waiting at the gate to leave for the country I was visiting when 4 agents came up to me, harassed me, and searched me in front of everyone waiting at the gate. That was so embarassing, they found pictures of my friends on my camera who are CANADIAN university students of different ethnicities. I told them they were my friends, but they refused to believe me. One agent even accused me of trying to smuggle people into Canada!! They let me go right before my flight left and didnt give me back my flight ticket. They left it on a counter and I had to search for it myself and barely made my flight. On my way back I knew for sure I was going to get checked. I got the same old big red cross you got when I checked in, and was lead to the same type of room. There they harassed me for a good hour or so, smelling all my clothes, asking obsurd invasive questions and pretty much trying to get me to admit something I didnt even do. They werent listening to any of my answers and even threatened to have me detained. And no I was not rude or being arrogant to them, I tried very hard to keep calm. I was born, raised and grew up in Canada, but customs sure knows how to make you feel UN-Canadian and like you’re not from Canada.
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I had to deal with them too.. But my experiences were even worst. I’ve been interrogated 4 times by them! Each time they claimed it was a “random” check.
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