I still get nervous going through passport control when entering a country. There is something about the way that they look you over and judge you instantly that just makes my stomach curl up and want to hide. In Hong Kong, they non-invasively scan your body temperature as you go through passport control to check for signs of fever and any associated communicable illnesses. The U.S. has been getting increasingly stringent in its controls, but I have to say that Australia’s seemed the tightest that I can remember. Every bag was inspected on entry by an X-ray, their entry card asked two pages of in-depth questions, and an army of inspectors probed in-person.
What are they concerned about, you might ask? Bird flu is on all minds, hence questions about contact with fowl. Questions on farm animals and another few questions had the feeling of mad cow concern. For instance, the written survey probed on soil that might be on your shoes from tramping on farms. But then there seemed to be an odd emphasis on beef jerky. Individual signs warned of its illegality, the workers probed on it, and rubbish bins abounded for the easy disposal sin stigma. I was chastised slightly for bringing in Pistachio nuts in my carry on, but mostly because I forgot that I had them until I was in line and had filled out my card. They announced my naughtiness publicly and made me sweat just a tad, but it didn’t help that Eric kept telling me that I was going to be taken to jail.
Countries are increasingly operating like cells of the body, attempting to grow connections and allow interaction at the same time that we build barriers of protection. It’s hard to recognize what should stay in or out. From our travels, there seems only slight consistency across countries in this regard. I actually take some solace in this uniqueness, because if things were standardized, there is little hope that they would be standardized perfectly. At least this way, one of the systems of protection is likely to work well and we can learn from that.
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