We enter the tunnel hand in hand.

Life takes on a different color. The tunnel walls are dimly lit by old lamps. We begin our journey. The tunnel is lined with doors; old doors with old locks. I knock on the doors. A face appears. The woman looks me up and down and before I can speak she hands me a clipboard and asks me to fill out forms. Over and over I knock on the doors, fill out forms, get escorted into a room where I am interviewed and have to repeat our story and ask for help.

"We have no money, no home, no friends, no car, no food and only the clothes on our backs and these few bags we've carried far. We have family thousands of miles away but to be near them, we have to be near him. Smiling, friendly people told us to come to them and we'd be safe and taken care of....

Before I can finish our story, the interviewer tells me "Fill out this form. Go to this place. Keep this appointment. You can stay here, but you must follow all the rules."

A large stone tablet inscribed with rules looms above us. We hear the sound of doors being locked behind us. We are locked in "for our own safety."

"You can't use the phone without spending lots of money, cash. No collect calls. No charging calls to another phone or a phone card. You may use our phone once a day between 10 and 11 am, but... only with our permission, for official purposes only and we must be present to hear your every word. No, you are not allowed to use the copier or computer even though you've been a secretary for over sixteen years. You may not step into our air conditioned offices or look at our computer monitor screens. There are rules for 'people like you'."