![]() |
Monday, November 3, 2003
Patriot Act proves an insecurity measure for foreign students
He spent four months in the frightening and frustrating limbo land inhabited by many international students like himself since 9/11 and the passage of the Patriot Act.
Now 23-year-old Adrian Natawidjaja is just happy and relieved to be back in Seattle.
Well, OK, the fourth-year University of Washington pharmacy student admits he still is shaken and a little upset about being stuck in his tiny hometown in Indonesia, frantically and obsessively checking an embassy Web site for the visa number that refused to appear.
There he sat after flying home following the sudden death of his mother and after being told by the International Student Office at the U and by every other official he asked that there would be no problem. It shouldn't take more than a month for him to be back in the United States.
But Natawidjaja's classes started without him. The eight-month pharmacy rotation required for graduation began. His $660-a-month U District apartment sat empty but paid for, utility and car insurance bills piling up in the dust inside the mail slot.
Even as a few of his more securely homegrown fellow students rioted and started fires on Greek Row to celebrate their own return to school, Natawidjaja was sending increasingly worried e-mails to Seattle friend and fellow UW student Dennis Q. Lee, wondering if he would ever be allowed back in.
It was that week that Natawidjaja's name appeared in the UW Daily as a symbol of international students stranded by seemingly inexplicable visa delays.
Then suddenly last week, after fruitless treks to the embassy in Jakarta, Natawidjaja's number materialized on the screen like a mirage. And two days later he was back in town.
First, Natawidjaja wants you to understand that he is only one of many students similarly stuck. Second, he wants to say that he does understand the need for national security following terrorist attacks that shook this country to its core.
But the system seems so random to him, so arbitrary and unequal.
As weeks and months wore on without word, rumors flew and suspicions rose.
Another student from the same country, one who owns real estate in the United States, was readmitted within one month. But another, whose family has no record of ever having met a member of a suspect group, waits six months and more without.
For Lee, Natawidjaja's Seattle friend, it was like having one of his eight real brothers behind bars. The 27-year-old Lee, who is half Chinese, was born in Vietnam and one of his brothers was born in Indonesia. He and Natawidjaja have been close since they first met at the U, studying together, fishing together, including each other in family celebrations.
"I kept thinking I could have been in that position, it could have easily happened to me," Lee said.
E-mail helped the young men stay in touch as time yawned on and Lee returned to class without his friend. Natawidjaja is clever with computers. Once he sent Lee an animated cartoon of a boat showing Lee being shipped back to Vietnam. "He tried to joke about it but he was getting really depressed and freaked out," Lee said.
"I totally agree with the need for homeland security, but how does it make our country safer to keep him out? I think a lot of the strength of the U.S. comes from its diversity," Lee said. "New people bring in new ideas. That's why our country is so good."
And, counting his first two years at Edmonds Community College and his three-plus years at the U, Natawidjaja has lived in the area for a full five years.
Just days before the magical visa number finally popped onto the computer screen at the embassy in Jakarta last week, Natawidjaja had been back there again, politely but urgently asking why his future was being held hostage.
"The woman got mad and yelled at me and told me to go home and wait," he said.
With others he knew of returning to the states, it was hard not to feel discriminated against. Natawidjaja is Chinese Indonesian and as such is not allowed to apply for any government jobs in his country. Extra paperwork is required to secure the most mundane rights including obtaining a driver's license. Proof of citizenship is asked for at every turn. So, even at home, Natawidjaja has had some experience with discrimination.
And here, after 9/11, he fully expected things to tighten up for international students. One provision of the Patriot Act is a mandate that all male citizens between the ages of 16 and 45 from certain countries including Indonesia undergo a special registration.
But Natawidjaja did that and was assured that, as long as his student status remained intact, he should not have a problem getting his visa renewed and re-entering the country.
Now, he is back, and hoping to catch up with his class. Maybe, if he's lucky, he will be able to graduate by July, only one month later than planned. But he worries about the other students who may not have resources, luck and loyal friends like his. He worries about students still in limbo, scanning computer screens for their numbers to appear.

More headlines and info from University District.
![]() Day in Pictures Spider-man votes and more |
![]() David Horsey On Palin's experience |
![]() The week's best photos Great shots from the P-I staff |

more
more
The Big Blog
Strange Bedfellows
Seattle Real Estate News
Seattle Traffic

101 Elliott Ave. W.
Seattle, WA 98119
(206) 448-8000
Home Delivery: (206) 464-2121 or (800) 542-0820
seattlepi.com serves about 1.7 million unique visitors
and 30 million page views each month.
Send comments to newmedia@seattlepi.com
Send investigative tips to iteam@seattlepi.com
©1996-2008 Seattle Post-Intelligencer
Terms of Use/Privacy Policy
