Friday, 3 August 2012

August 3rd, 2012 Day 14

Now that the prison saga has ended, so begins the deportation saga. Are they going to deport me or make me stay, work, go to court and make me pay off all my debts? And if they deport me, will I be forced to go to Canada or can I choose my destination? If they are paying for my deportation, they are more than welcome to send me to Toronto— it would be perfect timing since all of my immediate family is actually in the same location for once— usually they are spread out across 5000 km of country. If I have to pay for it, Canada is out of the equation as I can’t afford it and I’ll choose Thailand, my original destination, two weeks ago. Knowing Korea, Koreans and their penchant for sticking to the rules at their convenience, I can see the stormy future.

As I see it, my destination, should be of no concern as I’m leaving Korea, never to return and that’s the point deportation. As an immigration official will probably see it, I’m Canadian and I should return to my country of origin. Thankfully, I’m a stubborn bastard and at the immigration official give him just so they don’t have to deal with me anymore. For now, it’s just a waiting game.

Now, they’re taking me to Hwaseong Immigration Detention center. I can’t get any more information or to anybody other than that it’s like a bunch of chickens running around with their heads cut off. Getting a straight answer out of anybody in this country is like pulling teeth without anesthetic. A couple hours later, I finally get a deportation order, so at least I know I’ll be leaving Korea, guaranteed. Apparently, in Suwon, I can change my destination country from Canada to one of my choice. One step closer, Thailand here I come. Patience. It may even happen today, with any luck.

No chance. Looks like I’m spending the weekend here.

The Suwon detention center is even more restrictive than prison.  They took away all my pens and left me with a marker instead. I had to give up everything with metal in, including any coins I had. Now, I’m back in a different cell with four other people— three Asians and a Sri Lankan.

It’s not so bad. My fellow detainees seem like decent enough people. We still have cable TV, I just watched a Clint Eastwood western, and it’s nice to be able to have a conversation with someone in English. It sucks having to spend the weekend here, but it’s way better than being stuck in a jail cell by myself with an uncertain future. I know I’ll be out of reassume, so a couple more days is nothing compared to 68. 
Unfortunately, dinner was pretty much the same as jail— Rice, kimchi and soup, although one of the guys had some salt and there was some actual dinner conversation. Oh yeah! Most important, I was able to have a shower! With hot water! And soap! My skin actually looks several shades lighter.

Once again, stupid rules that make no sense other than to make the guards feel superior because they get to boss us around. What is the reasoning behind holding up our bedding every time they do a roll call? What is the point, and why do some detainees to do it in others do not? If there are going to be rules, shouldn’t everyone have to follow them? The whole thing seems ridiculous and pointless.

Once I get out of this mess, I’m going to do my best to avoid contact with any governing bodies unless absolutely necessary— such as crossing borders for instance. I suppose at some point I’ll have to renew my passport, too.