Zvi BUSTED at the border!

An email recieved from ZVI HERSHCOVICH as a contribution to the blog:

It's 2:11 AM (Tuesday Night) here in Montreal. I am sitting in my house, basement room (the one which Chaim Hertzel can probably tell you all its dimensions, and where I hide all my DVDs). My sister and my father are upstairs getting ready to leave to New York, and they are only going with me because I screwed myself over.

I only tell this story to inform the public, and all my friends at the Yeshiva in Ottawa, especially my holy Canadian brothers like Avi Wrubell, and to warn them that they shouldn't fall into the same crap (sorry - bad spelling... TRap) that I fell into.

When a Bochur gets engaged, he must separate himself from his friends, his family, and even his sports team for a few weeks to get busy with all the preparations for his wedding. This includes: Learning all the laws he has looked forward to learning since he hit puberty, scouring Crown Heights along with the rest of the cockroaches in search of a semi-decent apartment to live in, and buying an entire new wardrobe. Included in all this you also want to spend time with your future wife, so that you recognize her and don't wind up in the infamous 'Yaakov Avinu' scenario (you know, working 7 years, and then marrying the wrong woman).

Also, I was told, that as a Canadian, I must get a Green Card. No Gav, this isn't an extra-bad penalty in soccer, it's an immigration form. Without it, I can't work in the USA.

I set my plans: I'd visit Ottawa somewherwe during my engagement, and once again to say a proper goodbye with Gersh at the one week mark, where I'd stay for a few days, and maybe even return with some Ottawa guys.

But G-d (and the border patrol guys) had other ideas.

Friday morning of last week my Kallah had visited Montreal, and we were driving back at 6:00 AM to New York, where I was planning to spend the last 3 days I can see her together in New York. It was a fun drive, the whole 1 hour to the border. We even stopped in the duty-free shop and tried all the free liquor samples (OK, I'm just kidding about that).

When we reached the border, we happily pulled up to the checkpoint, and the man takes our passports. He asks us:

"Where are you going?"

"New York"

"How long?"

"He's returning on Sunday, I'm staying for a while."

(Peers into the back) "What are those?"

"Oh, those are presents."

(At this point, me - the dumb@ss - speaks up) "For our wedding."

(Eyebrow rises a notch) "Oh, I see. Why don't you just go over there while I hold these passports for a few moments?"

We drive to the indoor place and after an hour interrogation which includes taking my fingerprints, picture, and all my information (including my bra size), they tell us that I am not allowed into the USA until I prove that I can make alot of money there.

They say that we shoulve applied for a finace visa, which takes 8 months to come through, and even then I wouldn't be able to cross the border.

In short, we were SCREWED.

So we drove, and happily spent Shabbos at home (well, my home).

I have to sign off now, my father is waiting in the truck to go now. I hope I can make it safely across the border tonight. We're gonna pretend to be driving in for a visit, and I won't bring my passport along (my birth certificate and driving license should be enough). I'm sorry guys. I really really want to stop by Ottawa, but I don't think I'll be able to. I'll keep you all updated.

Wish me luck.

Zvi.