On Sunday I was arrested with a group of protesters at Toronto’s Queen and Spadina intersection. We hadn’t gathered at there– we had begun at city hall. Police had blockaded the intersections so that there was nowhere else for us to go.

Initially the mood had been light with one protester holding up a sign that said ‘everything is okay’ and others holding up a banner that said ‘G 5.5,’ the name of a brand of beer. The mood changed abruptly when a wall of black suited riot police appeared around us dividing about two dozen protesters from the rest of the group. I heard the riot police yell, "leave or you’ll be arrested." Unfortunately, there was no way to leave because they had surrounded us on all sides. Then the wall of riot police began closing in on us. I heard a terrified protester scream out "What’s happening?"

The protesters were herded together in a close bunch – then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I found myself being quickly thrown on the ground. My hands were wrapped behind my back and strapped together with flex cuffs. I was quickly dragged behind a line of riot police and seated on the curb alongside the other protesters. I saw the protester who had yelled ‘what’s happening’ with a gash across his face.

The police said we were being arrested for conspiracy to commit an indictable offence. I told them that there was no such thing – it had to be conspiracy to commit something. Later they told us that we were being charged with conspiracy to commit mischief.

While under arrest I had a chance to speak with several officers. I learned that they were not switching police officers during the G20. My arresting officer had been working 14 hours days for the past two days. Another officer told me he had been working similar hours for the past 12 days. The riot squad was made up of ordinary police officers.

Due to the large numbers of arrests we had to wait in line for to be loaded onto the bus and the prisoner transport vehicles they had prepared for us. The line-up was enormous and one officer received an earful for trying to cut in line with his prisoner. As we waited, the rain started pouring and officers and detainees alike were drenched.

After finding the bus and another transport was full, I was placed into the last remaining prisoner transport. I learned later that the remaining detainees were forced to wait in the rain before being released by police because there was no more room in the detention facilities.

After a long drive the transport vehicle finally arrived at some unknown facility. From inside the vehicles I heard police say, "We need to divide the property and paperwork into criminal and breach of peace. Breach of peace we’re going to let go." A woman added "everyone take your time because they mixed up criminal and breach this morning and it caused a huge mess." From the vehicles I could see several orange portable toilets with no doors on them. I saw women sitting down on the toilets and reliving themselves in full view of male officers.

When they opened the transport door I stepped out into what looked like a large gymnasium with concrete floors and a large ceiling containing several fans. To my left were rows of people seated with hands restrained behind their backs. On the wall behind me I glimpsed a row of holding cells containing inmates. They police quickly cut off the restraints from behind my back and snapped on a pair of black metal handcuffs to my front. One officer said "this one’s criminal" and they led me towards the cages to the hooting and cheering of the inmates.

The holding cells looked like oversized dog cages. There were about half a dozen of them arranged row by row. Between each cell there was a large thin steel plate so that the residents of one cage could not see the residents of the other. Inside each cell was a door-less portable toilet and a single steel bench lined up on the wall opposite to the toilet.

I was placed in a cell with about 20 people. Some looked like teenagers and some looked like middle aged men. The inmates looked at me with respect – "they brought you in with handcuffs", they said in awe. I noticed that the rest of them wore flex-cuffs.

There was a strong sense of kinship amongst the detainees. One of the inmates wrapped his shirt around me – "here, you’re cold," he said. Another inmate told me to lean against his back to warm myself up.

A police officer told us it was nine in the evening; I learned some of the detainees had been there since two. They had received food in the form of cheese sandwiches. They didn’t tell me if they had received water but there were small Styrofoam cups scattered all over the cage.

The detainee who wrapped his shirt around me he had been brought in for being found with a brass knuckle. He was called out of the cage by the police and after a few moments he was brought back in. He said that one of the officers was about to let him go but another had stepped in and insisted he stay. It seemed like an extremely disorganized operation.

The man who had been there since two had been found with paint in his backpack. Another man was there with a bruised leg – he told me they had been taken in for fighting with the police. Not all the people in the cages had caused trouble. One said he was not involved in the protests and he was just going shopping. The other inmates said they had seen many people who were just ordinary passersby taken in on account of unlucky circumstances. The man found with paint in his backpack jumped for joy at the turbulent scene. "This is going to radicalize so many people," he said with glee.

While waiting in my cell I saw a boy brought in who appeared to be about 15 years of age with a large gash on his cheek. He had a somber look on his face, and the people from the cages cheered for him and yelled "stand tall, you have friends."

A little over an hour after I had been brought in, an officer walked by and called out the name of the man who had been arrested while shopping. Shortly afterwards another officer walked forward and called out my name. We were led through a dark, narrow hallway with more cages – only these were smaller with about 10 inmates each. Finally I walked by a brighter and larger room with small solitary cages containing solitary inmates. We walked by quickly but I caught glimpses of two inmates – both teenage girls. One had green hair and was sitting stoically on the floor – she nodded to me as I passed. The other girl had long red hair and she kneeled on the ground with her head on the cold cement floor.

The officer asked me how I had been treated. "I was really lucky," I told him, "you guys let me off really quickly – but there are other guys who’ve been in there since two without having spoken to anyone." The officer nodded, "they probably deserve it," he said.

I was led to a staff sergeant who stood me alongside two other men. "We’re going to drop all charges against you – however if you are found at the protest site again, we will arrest you for obstruction," he said. "Do you agree?" he asked. His offer was difficult to refuse.

Outside I was greeted by a cheering crowd of sympathizers. They offered me some juice and a granola bar which I accepted gratefully. It was over.

All throughout the arrest process the police had treated me with courtesy and professionalism. However I couldn’t help but feel outraged at the organizers of summit security. 900 peopled had been arrested in Toronto during the G20 summit; it was the largest mass arrest in Canadian history. I walked away from the experience knowing that my relationship with my government would never be the same again.

More photos can be found at BlogTo.com.