A piece of a larger story about Awdah’s thwarted visit to the US.

“For many years, I had dreamed of visiting the United States. This dream was not just about seeing the country, but also about reconnecting with many dear friends I had there. I had heard so much about life in America, and I longed to see it with my own eyes. My excitement grew over time, and I finally decided to apply for a visa. The process wasn’t easy. I was rejected the first time, and that felt like a painful setback. But I didn’t give up. I applied again, and when I finally got the visa for three months, I was overwhelmed with joy. It felt like the door to my dreams had finally opened. My friend and I were both thrilled about the journey. We spent days preparing and imagining what it would be like. My heart was full of hope, happiness, and anticipation. I couldn’t wait to meet my friends and explore a new world. As always, traveling from Palestine required going through Jordan. We left two days early because we needed to pass through three checkpoints just to reach Jordan. Unfortunately, wecouldn’t pass the first day, and we had to sleep there. It was cold and uncertain, but we kept telling ourselves, “Tomorrow will be better.” The next day, we crossed the border and finally made it to the airport. Our flight was from Amman to Doha, and then to San Francisco. The entire trip took over 20 hours, but we were too excited to care. We were exhausted, but our hearts were still full of hope.

When we arrived at San Francisco Airport, things took a sudden and dark turn. The moment the officers saw our passports, they stopped us. A cold feeling crept over me. Something didn’t feel right, and the joy I had carried with me for so long began to fade. We were taken to the first round of questioning. I hoped it would be the last, and that we would be allowed to go on our way. But things only got worse. They searched our bags, then took our phones, then questioned us again – over and over. Each time, with a different officer, more intense than the last.Throughout this time, they kept my friend and me apart. We weren’t allowed to speak to each other. I felt isolated, anxious, and confused. Hours passed like days. In the end, they informed us we would be deported, and banned from entering the U.S. for five years. My heart sank. I couldn’t believe it.

That night was one of the longest nights of my life. We were completely disconnected – from the world, from our families, from each other. We were scared. We felt humiliated, powerless, and deeply alone. We kept asking ourselves: what did we do wrong? The next day, we sat separately from 6 a.m. until 3 p.m. They told us the five-year ban was lifted, but our visas were canceled. They escorted us to the plane without giving us back our passports or phones. They said it was because they weren’t convinced by the reasons for our visit.

We wanted so badly to look you in the eyes and tell you our story. We wanted to show you our humanity, our desire for peace and justice. We don’t want to be treated better than anyone else. We just want equality.

This journey broke something inside us, but not our will to try again. We were stuck in Doha for another day and night. Then we returned to Jordan, only to be stuck there for four more days due to the closed borders. This trip became one of the worst experiences of our lives. We were mentally and emotionally exhausted. And yet, we won’t give up. What our families and people face every day is even harder than this. I’m sharing this not just so you understand our pain, but so you know the strength it takes to endure it. The only bright part of this trip was the support and love we received from our friends. Their kindness meant everything.”