Detained in London Heathrow airport

After a 13 hour plane ride from Malaysia to London I met a nice lady named ‘Te’ we talked all about traveling, work and school. Te is one of those lucky ladies that hasn’t worked in 10 years and gets to travel all over the world due to her husband’s career (darn I forgot what it was again) I gave her my email and she is going to give me some information about taking my bachelor of education online since her neighbour is going about it now. She told me that I should teach for a career and getting my BED was a very smart idea, I fully agree with her. 

So after that I line up at the London immigration I have officially been detained. WTF? After I was grilled rigorously about money, work and all that fun jazz.  I got put in what reminds me of the detention room...like when you get an in school suspension. In this case everyone walking by can see you. Woot. 

A girl from my same flight had gone through the same problem but she is long gone now. She is a free-bird and was rescued by her boyfriend.  So now I sit here alone waiting for something to happen. The security guard came back about 20 minutes later saying that since I didn’t know how long I was planning on staying and that I couldn’t rely on my friend to house me for the length of my ‘I don’t know’ answer. Okay I’ll admit that wasn’t the correct answer I should have said something like a week and just been on my way. LOL now I am suffering the consequences of being brutally honest with the folks here.

Now I sit here awaiting for someone to come claim me from ‘the detained’ area of the immigration.  The man told me that now they have to go through my bag, in search for what ...I have no idea.  After they rummage through my bag they will then decide if they want to ask me more questions. So here is where I am confused, do they think that I am going to free load in their country? Work? I love how when you are in a situation like this you never know exactly what is going on nor are you going to get a real explanation until they are done doing what they are going to do. In the end I wish I could get that hug I came all the way here for. Or just sit down on the sidewalk, smoke freely before I find a place where I can enjoy a nice hot shower and a coffee afterwards. 

Okay so I have been sitting here for an hour, nothing is happening. A guy from Kenya came in sat down for about 10 minutes maybe less and next thing I knew I was saying good-bye and wishing him safe travels. I have a feeling that I am going to be sitting at this airport for quite some time. Huh ironic that I sat in transit for 22 hours and counting....to end up going to a place where I get to sit and wait some more. It is like I was training for this waiting marathon this whole time. I am glad that I had packed all those things to keep me entertained that I mentioned in the previous blog.  Since it feels like I am going to waiting here for a long, long time. 

They finally came back and asked me for my plane ticket stubs, then an e-ticket that I don’t have (I always leaves those in my inbox) At least the second man that came back to talk to me was more pleasant to converse with than the first fellow that I had interactions with. I am sure lucky that I am not one of those people that have anxiety/panic  attacks when under pressure or I would be royally screwed. I could sit here for days except for the fact that I wouldn’t be happy when my toothpaste ran out and I started to give off a foul scent of hobo. 

Alright now I have picked up my bag and a lady had dug through it, wrote down every dollar I have in every currency that I am currently holding onto. Back into the pig pen...now I have a count of 9 people have come and gone. I am still sitting here waiting patiently to be ‘interviewed’ as they call it before they decide what to do with me. I wish I had some water and a smoke or better yet someone to talk to.

So after being interviewed for about 100 questions I await my verdict. They came back to ask me more questions....they said that I have to turn me around. Now I wanted to cry through something of possible merciful part of the lady’s soul she appealed for 7 days for me and I got 72 hours.  

WTF?!

8 hours later I finally got that hug I waited so patiently for.  *sigh* I might be the happiest person in the world to have made it out the airport but the horrible doomy, mortality and the quick and painful end seems to lurking around the corner haunting my thoughts.

If the universe says no, then what am I suppose to do. Fight the universe? Maybe it isn’t meant to be after all or it is a test of strength and will power how much faith I have that I am meant to be here. There has to be something that I can do. 

That that feeling of this being the correct path wasn`t all in my head, it feels right to be here.

 To be continued....