The Fugitive Strikes Back

I had been up for close to 60 hours when I found myself in the holding tank in Hong Kong International Airport. This waiting room was packed to the brim with a vast array of people who looked nothing like me. I was getting sick of the stares. A group of Pakistanis just got split up, three young men were being escorted out while the father, wearing traditional baggy pants and gold slippers paced around holding a baby. His two daughters follow, hanging on his shirt tails. The older daughter is violently shaking from sporadic sobs that she is desperately trying to hold back, the younger girl, with equally captivating dark puppy dog eyes, seems unfazed by her surroundings. She calmly follows the procession, fiddling with an orange plastic bag that matches her woolly orange sweater she would never need in Hong Kong. Filling out the room, there are a number of mainland Chinese, a couple from Columbia, and a smattering of swarthy eastern Europeans. That's until the door opens and in comes the elderly German with his young Colombian wife, yelling and cursing. Now things were getting real entertaining! "This is crazy, I've been coming to China for forty years! I demand an explanation, who do you think you are!" They finally sit down next to the Colombian couple and start speaking their native tongue. The old German speaks fluently. I was skeptical that this was a mere coincidence, so I kept my ears pricked, after all, it had been two hours, and I had nothing else to do. All the yelling and screaming had some effect on the immigration staff, who SHARED the same room as us detainees while they worked. Interviews were conducted in little enclaves to the right that afforded zero privacy, so when they called for the German, ahead of all of us who had been there for at least two hours, we all listened in. The interview was conducted in English, and before the IO had a chance to speak, the German starts cracking jokes. "Do you know how crazy this is? I've been coming to this country since BEFORE you were born, I know a lot of people here. Why, why does such a small country try to do this, I travel the world, never anything like this." He seemed guilty as sin to me, but what I thought didn't matter. The IO, who had a bad case of acne, would just laugh and laugh and play mister nice guy, playing along, for a while. "So this is your wife, THIS is YOUR wife?! How long have you been married? A year! Your still on your honeymoon! Honeymoons should last longer, ha ha ha, but you still in love! So why only two days in Hong Kong, you should take your WIFE out shopping! HA ha ha." This whole scene was REALLY pissing the rest of us off, I mean why the special treatment, this guy was probably a NAZI for Christs sake! This back and forth ass kissing lasted about five minutes, then they were let out, Scott free! I guess this guy did have some friends somewhere, or maybe this was going to be easier than I thought? That's when things really got weird. The Colombian couple was up next in line, and didn't speak a lick of English, so naturally, our now happy kraut stayed on as their interpreter! Free o charge! I couldn't believe how informal this all was, the DMV has more rigor. The German goes into the same routine again, seemingly the only one talking. Meanwhile, the Pakistani procession just passed me, and some of the Eastern Europeans are starting to get rowdy and complain. Meanwhile, I get called by another IO for my interview, damn, was hoping to yuk it up with the other dude. My interview went smoothly. I just told the truth, leaving out the working bit, and based it all on money. I had been able to withdraw 300 Euro's before getting in line at immigration, so I showed him the Hong Kong money I had showed up in London with, and showed him all the money I had now. He was impressed, that's a lot of money to spend in the city. I told him I didn't want to stay in Hong Kong, and would immediately either go back to Europe if I could, or go home. His only follow up question was a tricky one, "OK, if your an Architect, then I assume you went to University right? Which one!" The University of Washington in Seattle. OK, I have no problem with you, I'll stamp you in for six months! I was in baby! Now what to do?