Dearly Deported

I am way overdo for a good, long update. As you probably all know by now, I am now still in San Diego. About 3 weeks ago I got on a plane to London and was denied entry into the country with 5 of my fellow teammates because we did not have a visa. Here's how it went down.

So we arrived at Heathrow Terminal 5 at approximately 9am and quickly preceded to immigration. We had our official letters from IC in hand and we were excited to get through and get to our flat in downtown. Each of us went to different immigration desks. My officer asked me why i was there and I told him I was volunteering. I showed him my letter and my return ticket to the states. He was reading the letter over when another officer came over and grabbed my passport and whispered in his ear. The officer tells me to wait on a bench behind me and then follows the other officer into an office. I look around and see my teammates each receiving similar instructions from their officers. Before we know it we are all waiting on a bench, all our officers are in the office, and back up has been called in to process the long line of people that has formed in immigration because of the hold up we caused.  After about 20 minutes an officer emerges from the office and asks for our COS number. We asked what that was and she replies that we obviously don't have one if we don't know what it is. She returns to the office an another officer comes out to get phone numbers of contacts in London. He returns a few minutes earlier to inform us that no one was answering either of the numbers. To make things even more sketchy, our London office did not yet have a landline phone so we didn't even have an office number to give them. 

After perhaps an hour the head officer says we need to go to baggage claim and they need to search our bags. So we are escorted through security to the baggage claim, we retrieve our bags, and then precede to have them ripped open and the contents tossed everywhere as they search for evidence of our guilt. All they found was some IC t-shirts and my neatly folded clothing (which was no longer neatly folded when she was finished). We then had to drag all our bags back to immigration and sit on our bench again.  At one point the head officer comes out and informs us "It's not looking good." It still didn't hit me that this was really serious.

Another hour goes by and an officer asks if we have been finger printed. Nope, not yet, haven't had that criminal pleasure yet. So we are each taken back to a room and fingerprinted and photographed for the official British Immigration records (okay so the fingerprint machine was pretty freaking cool). By this point it is nearly 2 pm and we are all really hungry. Johannes thankfully makes a comment about our hunger to one of the officers while he is being fingerprinted and a kind officer brings us some sandwiches (note: Worst sandwiches EVER!) 

When i return from fingerprinting I am immediately called back up to the immigration desk where I am questioned by the head officer. He hand writes my statements word for word and then I have to sign the statement.  Then I return to the bench.

After over 5 hours of sitting, waiting, and questioning the head officer comes to us. "Well, folks we've made a decision. I'm afraid it's not good news. You are going home. Get your bags, we are going right now." We didn't have time to protest or even process what was happening before a team of guards gathered around us and ordered us to gather our belongings and follow them. We were escorted through security each with our own personal guard and then loaded into a caged vehicle. During this whole process I am freaking out because they still haven't given us our passports back. i keep asking about it and they keep telling me I will get it later. I'm thinking it is later, we are getting on a plane.  So we are loaded into this caged vehicle and locked in. They drive us directly to the plane (well they attempt to, but the officer driving got lost and drove us to the wrong runway multiple times so it wasn't really very direct). The vehicle was unlocked, our bags were returned to us, and we were escorted onto the plane. The head officer gave our passports to the crew with instructions not to return them to us until we were in the United States.  

Even as i sat in my seat for my flight of shame, I still couldn't believe what had happened.  Three weeks later and sometimes I still can't believe it really happened.  Now I am in San Diego. i am working in the office here booking tour and planning the big event in Ireland. We are waiting for our visas to come through. Friday we were told that if we want to actually go work in the London office and go on tour we have to dedicate to the summer tour. It just isn't cost effective to send us for half a tour. We have until tomorrow to decide if we stay or if we go. I have decided to stay. So I will be remaining with IC through the summer if all goes as planned (not that I count on the plan anymore).