Homeward Bound: Part One

Finally we are approaching the border. It has been a long drive after a late start, so it is already one-thirty. I am driving as Dad has needed to catch up on some sleep...But things look different this time. There are twice as many gates as there used to be. Are they really all for border crossing? Are some for entrance to the highway, just beyond? What is this? I get in one of the new lanes and wait a few minutes - very slow...But, perhaps these are not what I want . I switch into one of the lines at a gate I recognize. Good! There are only two cars in front of me. This should be quick. But it isn't. We wait and wait. And we are not the only ones. All the cars are sitting, sitting. The guards are out of their booths, heavily armed,looking under cars, examining documents, doing who knows what else? And the cameras. I don't remember that many cameras - not one, but many in each line, photographing from every angle. What is this? This does not seem a user-friendly situation. Finally, car one gets the signal to move out. Car two pulls ahead and sits for ten minutes while he is thoroughly investigated. Now our turn...Big, swarthy face. Not friendly looking....What is your citizenship. I'm Canadian. And what does Dad say? Canadian? American? Duel? He has gotten in trouble before for giving the wrong answer. Both, he finally says and this seems acceptable as guard looks at our documents. Where have you been? Where do you live? How long were you there? Any alcohol? Tobacco? And I breathe a sigh of relief. Seems we are about ready to be released. But he mutters something into a microphone. And we are told to go into the nearby area to be searched....Here! Here! Park here! ...And I do....No, over here. And I do. I watch an old man get out of his car. Guards take it and drive it through a huge machine I assume is some sort of detector. A short distance away, someone's engine is being taken apart piece by piece... Now, get out of the car and go into the office. Take your documents and purse but leave your cell phone and everything else here...But I have jewelry in my suitcase. I don't want to leave it.....Don't worry. I won't steal it. We will take good care of you. You are on the right side of the border now....We enter the office, Dad tired with hands in pocket...Take your hands out of your pockets!...Go to that lane. Hand in all your documents, then go and sit over there. While we wait, other terrorists enter the office - women, children grandparents. We sit quietly together. OK. Over here. Where do you live? Who was driving the car? Is it your car? Where did you go? Why did you go? How long have you been in the States? All the while she searches my face, especially my eyes, looking for telltale signs of lying...My mind races while I am answering her. How do you look honest? Do I look honest? I don't know...All right. Go and sit down again...OK. Come and sign this sheet. Here are your documents. You can go now...We go out to the car and I open the trunk. I may get into trouble for it, but I am going to check to see my jewelry is still there. It is....You know what? The people involved were pleasant and professional. But I'm still not sure I am on the right side of the border.