February 17, 1955 - Hong Kong
My Paper Life, Day 2
They were able to confirm that I was supposed to have a mole on the back of my neck! Today I told them I had a mole, but they lifted up my hair and saw that I didn’t have one. I told them that my father had died quite young and when my mother remarried, she got the mole removed because she thought it would bring bad luck…
So far, so good. But the next barrage of questions were impossibly difficult. According to my papers, I lived and grew up on Hastings Street. First they asked me if there was any kind of public transit running along Hastings—I had no idea, but thought it might be a major street and said yes. Right—were they trolleys or streetcars? I guessed streetcars—
Then they asked me what colour they were. I could only think of Hong Kong streetcars and assumed they were green. Wrong—they were red. I panicked inside, but quickly made up some excuse about it being so long ago, I didn’t remember. I think they bought it.
I hope they let me through. Wayne’s little brother wasn’t so lucky: his papers said that he had had polio in his left foot as a child, and when since he didn’t have a limp they x-rayed his foot and found him out. I was in the room next to him at the time, but I had to pretend I didn’t know him. He might have still made it, because later that night the immigration officer came around the house to ask for a bribe. Unfortunately, he had already gone out to forget his troubles with booze and gambling.
They were able to confirm that I was supposed to have a mole on the back of my neck! Today I told them I had a mole, but they lifted up my hair and saw that I didn’t have one. I told them that my father had died quite young and when my mother remarried, she got the mole removed because she thought it would bring bad luck…
So far, so good. But the next barrage of questions were impossibly difficult. According to my papers, I lived and grew up on Hastings Street. First they asked me if there was any kind of public transit running along Hastings—I had no idea, but thought it might be a major street and said yes. Right—were they trolleys or streetcars? I guessed streetcars—
Then they asked me what colour they were. I could only think of Hong Kong streetcars and assumed they were green. Wrong—they were red. I panicked inside, but quickly made up some excuse about it being so long ago, I didn’t remember. I think they bought it.
I hope they let me through. Wayne’s little brother wasn’t so lucky: his papers said that he had had polio in his left foot as a child, and when since he didn’t have a limp they x-rayed his foot and found him out. I was in the room next to him at the time, but I had to pretend I didn’t know him. He might have still made it, because later that night the immigration officer came around the house to ask for a bribe. Unfortunately, he had already gone out to forget his troubles with booze and gambling.
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