TRANSLATED FROM TURKISH

I was born on 01/01/1966 in Konya, Turkey. I have a modest life. I am married and I am the head of a household of a family with four children. My oldest kid is 15 years old. S/he goes to junior high school. The second oldest is 13 years old. S/he attends to middle school. The third one is 10 years old and s/he is in 4th grade in school. The youngest one is a three-year-old baby.

It was August 2000. I found out about my friend's plan to come to the United States. I told him that I also wanted to go to the United States along with him and asked him to help me with that. My friend said he would help me and told me to apply for a visa to enter the United States. Just like other regular Turkish citizens do, in October 2000 I obtained my visa from the United States Embassy in Ankara. I landed in JFK airport on October 4th 2000. I was very excited; because it was my first time getting a visa and obtaining a passport; it was my first time out of my own country. My friend picked me up from the airport and took me to his home in a town called Long Beach in New York Long Island. I don't know the address very well. We stayed together for 10-12 days. We were both looking for a job. On October 20th-22nd I started working at a gas station in a town called Bellport. I worked during the night and slept at the station. The living standard there was very hard. I witnessed three robbery incidents carried out by individuals with guns. You can find the records of these incidents in police reports. After having worked there for three months, my boss transferred me to another station in Bay Shore. Again, I worked there at nights and used to sleep at the station. The life conditions were very hard. The fact that I did not speak English was causing me more difficulties. I was not able to communicate with anyone. I could not spend time with anyone socially. When Turks stopped by the station, I could only talk to them. Yet I had to work. Because I had left my family and my 4 kids in Turkey, I had to make money and support them with what I earn here. I worked for 6-7 months in this way. Then, with the help of a friend from the gas station I started working in a construction field. While working at the gas station I obtained my work permit. When I started the job at the construction field, I moved to a Turkish friend's apartment on Bay Shore, 5th Avenue. The work place was 6-7 miles far from where I was staying. I made this distance everyday by bicycle. I went on like this for a month. But it was very hard to commute. So I bought one of my co-workers' car. Then my life became slightly easier.

Then I met Mustafa who is from the same town in Turkey as I am. I moved to his apartment in W.Babylon. I started going to work from there. After work, I was working at the gas station. One day in October 2001, Mustafa told me that FBI had stopped by his apartment and interrogated him. He told me that the FBI asked him when I was going to be back from work and told him that they will contact us again. Mustafa had a green card. But my visa was only valid for six months, and it had already expired. I was not afraid, because I knew that there were thousands, tens of thousands people who were holding already expired visas, people without passports, people who cross borders on foot etc. I had never heard of people who were arrested for their visas had expired. FBI called again on October 12th. With the help of Mustafa, I told them that I was at home and my name was Ibrahim Turkmen.

On Saturday, October 13th I was at home, doing cleaning. At around 2-3 o'clock in the afternoon, I heard people shouting outside. I looked out of the window. Two men said they were from the FBI and told me to open the door. I opened the door and asked them what the problem was. They asked for my ID and my passport and I provided them. They also asked whether I was holding a credit card or a social security number and whether I was married or not. I told them no. I said I only had a passport and a work permit. They walked inside. I asked once again what the problem was and they told me that my visa had expired. I asked why they were picking on me, while there were so many people in New York, wandering around with expired visas. They handcuffed me. I told them that I wanted to call my family. But they said no. I tried to explain to them that I was not a terrorist but I was only a person who cared about his family. I could not speak English very well. They took me out. At the same time Mustafa had just come. He also tried to explain to them my situation. But it did not help. They dragged me into the van and they took me to the INS building in Nassau. People who worked there were treating me very kindly. They took my fingerprints. At around 8 - 9 pm, two immigration officers took me to the Manhattan Immigration Building. They put me in a cell. They asked me a couple of questions. They took my fingerprints. They took my picture and they made me sign some documents. I did not know what the documents were saying. Because I can't read or write English. Later on that night at around 2-3, they took me to another prison, which is where I currently reside. I did not have any worries. Because I knew that I was innocent. Just like everyone else's, my visa had expired. I thought that I would go back to my own country and things would be solved. On October 18th or 19th (I don't remember it well, because it has been so long) either an INS or an immigration officer told me to sign some documents again. I did not know what they were about, but I signed them. On October 29th, at around 1-2 pm two FBI officers showed up. They interrogated me for 1-2 hours. Another Turkish man who was staying in the same prison helped me communicate with the interrogators in English. His case was being held similarly as mine. So on October 31st, we were taken to the court together. Neither of us had a lawyer. His trial was before mine. In his case, the judge decided on the options of $4000 bail, volunteer deportation or expulsion from the country latest in one month. Then it was my turn. The judge seemed like a very nice person. He told me that I had a right to defend myself. He said that I had been residing illegally in the United States for the last 6 months and the INS was demanding my expulsion from the country. I told him that I wanted to go back to my country. The judge said that I had four options: deportation, volunteer deportation, $4000 bail and reconsideration of my case in a higher court. I told him that I wanted to choose volunteer deportation and go back to my country. The judge said that I had to buy my own ticket and leave the United States in one month. I asked the judge whether I could leave the next day, if I could obtain a ticket by then. He said that there was no problem with that and I could leave the country as soon as I got my ticket. He also said that I could go home, pack my stuff and close my back account. I accepted the terms and called Mustafa to get me a ticket. He got me a ticket and turned the ticked in the INS Deportation office on November 2nd 2001 at noon. Then I started waiting for my release from the prison.

105 days have passed and I still wake up everyday with the hope to see people taking me out of the prison. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day, the next, the next, the next, the next. I live with this pain and sadness everyday. My family and my kids are suffering. I could not send them money. There is no one to take care of them. I cannot make international calls here. I could not talk to them. The point that bothers me the most is that despite the court decision I cannot leave the country and I am still residing in the prison. I would admit the punishment if I had deserved it. They provide me with no explanation. I lost track of my own life. Language is another problem. If I only knew that I was going to spend not 3-4 months, but just a day in a prison, I would not even think of coming to this country. Because in the United States I have been handcuffed for the first time. I've been trialed for the first time. For the first time I have seen a real prison guardian. For the first time I have been in a prison. For the first time I've put on prisoner clothing. All of these have influenced my psychology deeply.

I am 36 years old. I'd be scared to kill even an ant. I think it is not fair to imprison a person of this character for 4 months. It is not only me, but also my family who are suffering from the burden of this matter. It has been two months since my friend who gained his deportation rights has left for Turkey. Me still?.. I do not understand it.

I have a lot more things to say, but I am scared to speak.