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It's an early, quiet morning at St. Michael's Anglican Church in East Vancouver. Amir Kazemian has the place to himself for morning prayers. The solemn silence has marked the start of his daily routine for many of the past 732 days, since he sought sanctuary.

One hour of prayers. One hour of exercise. Television from 8 a.m. until 9 a.m., and again at noon, dinnertime, and before bed. During the day Mr. Kazemian writes e-mails or fixes pocket PCs and other electronics, some of which he sells on eBay. Regularly, he studies an on-line business course and once a week he practises yoga. Sundays, he has many visitors.

Mostly, though, days of the week mean little. Months have passed and now changes in the seasons have lost importance, too. In winter, the Iranian refugee claimant does bike laps inside the church for exercise, makes a cup of tea or settles in for a movie. As he says, he is always on the go.

"The universe is moving . . . Even though I'm here, I am on the move," he said, his light brown eyes gazing distantly. "Prisoners are on the move."

This week, though, Mr. Kazemian has reason to pause -- it marks the second anniversary of his entry into the church, his 41st birthday and another Father's Day he will spend separated from his family.

"I really, really love my father," he said, yearning for a visit with the 75-year-old man who suffers from leukemia and who moved to England to join his daughter. "I just want to reunite, even for one hour, with my father."

Mr. Kazemian began calling the small chapel home when he sought sanctuary from a deportation order in June, 2004. He joined a cousin in Toronto on a visitor's visa nine years ago, after leaving his parents in Iran. He had spent 16 months in a Tehran prison for political activism with his father, who had urged him to leave. Mr. Kazemian stayed on after the visa expired, later moving to Vancouver. His mother joined him here and while her application for refugee status was accepted, Mr. Kazemian's was not, baffling refugee advocates.

Like another eight people facing deportation in other parts of Canada, he felt there was no other option but to take sanctuary in a church, a last resort to try to stay on Canadian soil. Mr. Kazemian says he will wait as long as it takes, and prays for a reprieve.

Meanwhile, life continues. The former carpet maker, barber and watchmaker keeps busy repairing computers and stereos; the Internet provides him with customers, clothes, books and friends. The Anglican diocese gives him an allowance, and found him a lawyer. His mother does his grocery shopping.

Mr. Kazemian is an animated, restless man. A rare moment catches him standing in front of rows of empty pews, eyes closed, singing songs from his Iranian homeland. He said it is only there, facing an image of Jesus, that he allows himself to cry.

"I am a human being. We all have our limitations," he said.

Across Canada, deportation officers continue to respect the century-old sanctuary tradition, limiting arrests of people wanted for deportation to areas outside churches and churchyards.

"We haven't gone in churches in the past to arrest people when there's been immigration warrants for their arrest. It doesn't mean we cannot," said Janis Fergusson of the Canada Border Services Agency. "We just continue to urge these individuals to come out, to respect our processes and leave Canada."

"We refer to it as hiding in churches," added Paula Shore, also of the CBSA.

The pastor, Rev. John Marsh, who accepted Mr. Kazemian into his church, said the diocese is not alone in defending the man's case. "There is an enormously broad-based network of people who are being extraordinarily supportive in giving extraordinary amounts of their time and their energy," he said.

"The fact is that his mother has been granted permission to stay in the country -- the facts of the case were virtually identical. There is absolutely, in our opinion, no reason why he should not be allowed to stay."

On May 12, Ali Reza Monemi -- also a failed refugee claimant -- took sanctuary at St. John the Evangelist Anglican Church in North Vancouver. Three days later, the 30-year-old Iranian was moved by the pastor to an undisclosed place of worship in fear of his discovery and arrest.The first three weeks felt like three years, he said, and time goes by slowly in the quiet basement where he sleeps. His parents do not come to see him, fearing a visit could lead to discovery and arrest.

"It's really hard. Harder for my mom and my dad," says Mr. Monemi, a former SportChek employee and avid volleyball player, who finds it hard to adapt to his lack of mobility.

When his family arrived as landed immigrants in Canada more than a decade ago, Mr. Monemi was serving mandatory military service in Iran. By the time he finished, he was too old to be considered a dependant, but decided to join his family anyway. Before leaving Iran, he was arrested and lashed for having spoken to a married woman. Now, almost eight years later, after a widely publicized campaign involving a hunger strike and support from North Vancouver MP Don Bell, Canadian officials have orders to deport Mr. Monemi.

Only one case has been reported where a deportation followed an arrest made from inside a church. Algerian Mohamed Cherfi, who avoided a deportation order for two weeks by living in a Quebec City church, was deported to the United States in 2004. Police, not immigration officers, entered the church and reportedly dragged the man out of the basement. After the deportation, he spent 17 months in a U.S. detention centre and is attempting to return to Canada.

Harsha Walia, with the refugee advocacy group No One is Illegal, said Mr. Cherfi's case was unusual because he was wanted for disobeying bail conditions, arising from participation in an immigration-related demonstration.

She said cases normally have a happier ending, when the federal immigration minister stays the deportation order. Since Mr. Kazemian first entered St. Michael's, at least five cases have been resolved this way as a direct result of public pressure, but public support and government attention is dwindling, she said. "Governments aren't listening any more . . . the response to that should be greater pressure."

In 2004, when at least a half-dozen people were living in churches, including Mr. Kazemian, then-immigration minister Judy Sgro met with church leaders to urge them not to protect newcomers. A year later almost all deportation orders, except for Mr. Kazemian's, were dropped under the direction of either Ms. Sgro or her successor, Joe Volpe.

Today, at least nine people have taken sanctuary in Canadian churches, hoping Immigration Minister Monte Solberg will allow them to remain here. In New Westminster, B.C., a woman from El Salvador has taken sanctuary for more than a year; a woman from Ivory Coast and an Ethiopian man are in separate churches in Ottawa; and a blind Algerian man is in a Montreal church.

Ms. Walia says hope has almost gone for the establishment of a new refugee appeal division -- something that was promised by the federal government in 2002 and would allow for a general appeal rather than a technical, judicial review. She said the outlook is grim for the current cases.

Back at St. Michael's, Mr. Kazemian is in relatively good spirits (he says his anti-depressant medication is helpful), and can do nothing but wait while his lawyer prepares a new application on humanitarian and compassionate grounds.

"In that place, there is no chance for you to survive," he said, referring to the 16 months he spent in the Iranian prison. "This is another version of a prison but, you know what? You can't compare."

Other notable cases

Montreal: Algerian Abdelkader Belaouni, who is blind, entered St. Gabriel Roman Catholic Church in January. His application to stay in Canada on compassionate and humanitarian grounds was rejected.

Newfoundland: Angela Portnoy, who is eight months pregnant, took sanctuary with her four children at a Roman Catholic church in Marystown in the fall of 2005. In January her husband was deported to Israel, after receiving a speeding violation. Ms. Portnoy, who has filed a humanitarian application, has been given a temporary reprieve so she can leave the church to seek medical care and give birth in hospital.

Ottawa: Refugee applicant Maoua Diomande, from Ivory Coast, remains at L'Église Sacré Coeur on the University of Ottawa campus, where she sought sanctuary in June, 2005. Meanwhile, Moti Nano, from Ethiopia, is at the All Saints Lutheran Church, which he entered in January, 2005, after his refugee claim was rejected.

New Westminster, B.C.: Esperanza Rivera Vaquerano, from El Salvador, remains in the Emmanuel Pentecostal Church since entering in May, 2005. Her pastor, Paul Reynolds, believes he was the first in Canada to offer a family sanctuary, when he allowed a family to stay at his church for a weekend nearly 10 years ago.

Quebec City: Refugee applicant Mohamed Cherfi, from Algeria, entered a church in February, 2004. Two weeks later, police dragged him out of the basement and deported him to the United States, where he was detained for 17 months; he is currently applying to return to Canada.

-- Eva Salinas

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