Positively unwelcome

AIDS activists pay a stiff price to enter the U.S.

NOT WANTED IN AMERICA: Ken Monteith

by PATRICK LEJTENYI

It was supposed to be a nice weekend trip down to Washington D.C. for a conference, the type where, after serious policy discussions and networking, attendees could take in the historic city, check out the nightlife and visit the memorials. But for a group of Canadians planning to hit the annual North American Housing and HIV/AIDS Research Summit last week, it turned into an unpleasant—and expensive—trip across the border.

According to Ken Monteith, the executive director of the Coalition des organismes communautaires québécois de lutte contre le sida (COCQ-Sida), a Montreal-based umbrella group of AIDS-related organizations, the Canadians were faced with a choice just two weeks before they were due to travel: fill out a form and fork over almost $545 U.S.—about $600 Canadian—or stay home. They decided to go ahead with their trip, but Monteith says the regulations are insulting, discriminatory and wrong-headed. He’s even written a strongly worded letter to U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, urging her to get the Department of Health and Social Services to quash the restrictions. Clinton, busy of late, has yet to respond.

“This restriction tells me they don’t want me in their country, that I’m a spreader of disease,” Monteith says. “And I don’t want to go if that’s how I’ll be treated. I just hope it doesn’t interrupt my international travel plans.”

It is worth noting that travel restrictions for HIV-positive people into the U.S. were in fact eased somewhat under the Bush administration. Though it is still virtually impossible for anyone who is HIV-positive to become a legal resident, there is no longer a blanket ban on temporary visitors, if they are travelling under certain circumstances or if they have an exemption waiver or a special visa. The visa can be obtained at one of seven consular offices in Canada, costs $131 and comes with a list of conditions relating to medication, insurance and safe sex practices.

This even applies to international travellers in transit through the United States. The Bush changes were enacted last July, buried in new legislation relating to the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR). “This is of particular concern to Canadians,” says Monteith. “With some exceptions like Western Europe, we can’t get anywhere in the world without passing through the U.S.”

According to the International AIDS Society, “63 countries, territories and areas deny the entry, stay or residence of HIV-positive people because of their HIV status only.” Canada, Monteith says, does not, but immigrants hoping to settle in Canada must submit to health tests, including one for HIV/AIDS.

What irks Monteith—and many other AIDS activists both outside the U.S. and within—is the Department of Health and Human Service’s insistence on calling HIV/AIDS a dangerously communicable disease, as if it were an airborne virus like swine flu or tuberculosis. Not declaring your status at customs can get travellers in big trouble as well. If a luggage search turns up clearly labelled medication, they will be refused entry and slapped with a permanent entry ban. Some people try to mail their meds ahead of them, says Monteith, but that is also fraught with peril. The remaining option is to “take a holiday from your medication, which could have profound and serious consequences.

“Why should I have to choose between travelling and my health?” he asks.