Refused leave to land two years ago
KILKENNY -- I have a Fuji S602Z camera and a Mass Card from my dad's funeral to remind me of the events arising out of being refused leave to land in Ireland two years ago. I bought the camera during the unscheduled trip to the States and I used it to snap pictures of my dad during a glorious week when we shared good times. He died a few months later. Every September I relive my front line experience with Irish immigration because I make short breaks outside of Ireland around the 20th of September every year. When I come back to Dublin from Spain this year, I'll remember the events of 21 September 2002.
Getting turned away from your adopted homeland is a bit disconcerting. The impact hit my friends and coworkers more than it affected me. I got a free trip to NYC. They got headaches trying to sort out my paperwork for my return leg. I spent a week enjoying friends and family. They spent hours looking at ways to expedite the processing of my work permit. I returned a week later, settled back into a routine in Ireland and finally got a work permit renewed--seven months later.
Anyone who lives in Ireland knows someone working outside the net. Anyone using fast food restaurant counter service as a regular part of their diet in Ireland has been served by someone who doesn't totally conform to residency, employment or tax requirements. Being without the right papers happens a lot nowadys, since many countries have implemented paper barriers to entry and residency.
That said, Ireland remains a relatively easy place to enter and an even easier place to live off the grid. I write these things knowing this weblog is scraped by Irish government researchers who find this text when searching for "Irish immigration" policies.
Every month, someone affected by immigration snafus sends me a personal e-mail, sharing thoughts about being rebuffed, questioned, or detained by immigration authorities. International travelers know that this kind of welcoming procedure is part of the global travel routine now. It pays to have your papers in order. It's imperative that your traveling party carries cash in separate pockets all around because the worst trauma is being separated at the immigration counter. I enter countries with the knowledge of alternate points of debarkation--lower profile airports, seaports, and railway junctions.
While living in Germany, I watched the late-night shuttle of people in dimly lighted truck stops. Dozens would walk from the back of one lorry to another, criss-crossing Germany from the east and the south to points west and south. Today, some of those people trickle into Ireland. The lucky ones sleep in the cabs of trucks that roll off ferries in Dublin or Rosslare. The unlucky ones ride in containers or they make the big mistake of flying into Dublin with their non-EU passport. If you need to get to Ireland and your papers aren't compliant, you need to travel by ferry on a Saturday or a light aircraft on a Sunday. Both land where no inspections exist during "unsociable hours" of the day.
I make these comments while reflecting on the events of late September 2002. Being turned away at the Dublin Airport became an achievement that now brings me notes and comments from Americans, Chinese, Romanians, and Russians. Some are students in courses I teach. Most are emails that relate events similar to my cherished memory of Irish immigration policy.
Ray O'Hanlon -- "The (Dallmer) boys are back in town"
Bernie Goldbach -- "Refused leave to land in Ireland"
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