foreign "culture"

Those of you who have ever returned from traveling overseas might be familiar with the ever-joyous white and blue Customs Declaration form everyone must fill out upon landing in the U.S. On this form you have the opportunity to rat yourself out for any number of forbidden items you might be attempting to bring into the country, including plant seeds, fruits and vegetables, animal products, meats, etc. (they have a particular interest in salami, I learned from previous travels -- see earlier blog) along with other oh-so-likely imports such as the skins of endangered animals, disease agents, snails, insects, obscene materials, toxic substances, cell cultures, and soil (does a chunk of the Berlin wall count?) It also gets a little personal about how much money you have, how much your souvenirs cost and whether you've been "close" to livestock lately, but I digress. My favorite part of the form says something like "if you have any of these things, contact customs before you get to the United States," which is especially helpful since these forms are usually distributed about 30 minutes before you land.

After a number of stern warnings about what U.S. Customs and Border Protection prohibits and expects and has a right to do to you, the form manages a weak "Welcome to the United States."

After having visited upwards of 12-14 other countries, I daresay that the entry process into the U.S. is anything but welcoming, even for its own citizens. The weary traveler finds himself herded into the bleak, warehouse-like customs building where he languishes in long, stuffy lines while waiting his turn to be questioned and grilled (and in the case of non-residents, questioned, grilled, fingerprinted and photographed). While he waits, he is subjected to a "welcome video" on several large screens above the queues that depicts a number of Border Protection agents reminding him that "we take the entry process very seriously." Even I, as a U.S. citizen and an honest, non-animal-skins-or-illegal-narcotics-bearing traveler, find myself clutching my passport and entry document in my nervous, sweaty palm, waiting for my turn under the scrutinizing eye of the ever-powerful Border Control agent. I ruminate on everything in my luggage, wondering what might get me hauled away and mentally developing a speech about why it was necessary to bring back (not one, but) two packets of Czech cookies and how the Polish condensed milk is stashed inside my snow boot not to be concealed, but to save room. I can only imagine how intimidating this process must be for the first-time visitor to this country, especially for the non-English speaker.

As I wait agonizingly for Christian to come through the foreign visitors line, I watch the visitors, one after another, approach their designated agent to submit a fingerprint; if they've been in the country before, the border agent's monitor displays their mug shot, current and prior fingerprint, and large text announcing, "SUBJECT VERIFIED." It's like entering a high-security prison where there's just been an escape; you almost expect to see someone dragged away, moaning and howling, "it wasn't me; it wasn't me!" The entire place is infused with a fear that is almost palpable, and feels liable to erupt into a five-alarm calamity at the slightest provocation. I think the only way they can make the process more terrifying is to install electric barbed wire around the queues and subject people to random shocks. We could watch a video that reassures us that in the U.S., shocking foreign visitors is just another way to show our hospitality. Welcome to the United States!

Anyway, I pulled one over on the Department of Customs and Border Protection this time. Salami, you ask? The skins of endangered animals? No, even better. In my toasty little throat, that I thought was just scratchy from the fatigue of 48 hours in transit, I was harboring a DISEASE CULTURE. That's right -- some strange, Eastern European strain of strep throat managed to smuggle its little way into the United States with me as its vessel. And no one was any the wiser.

Not that I'm proud of bringing in a bacteria that might end up causing an outbreak all over town. I guess I just felt a little smug at the CVS minute clinic, when the nurse practitioner (who was just in the process of giving me the spiel about how there's a lot of viral throat junk floating around right now and that we test for strep as a precaution but generally rest and fluids are the best medicine) glanced at my test and exclaimed in surprise "…and, you're going to have a positive strep culture." As if I would be mediocre enough to catch something locally. Hmph! The latest Polish bacterial strains are much more en vogue, but I wouldn't expect mere peasants to appreciate that.

Eat that with your salami, Border Control.

did you bring back any salami?

i'm not sure why i was asked this question during my recent visit to the friendly LAX customs office upon returning from england. he said it just like that, in a thick foreign accent. "did you bring back any meats, animal products...salami?" honestly, the only thing i remember clearly is "salami?" because at that point i became bemused to the point of forgetting all else.

"good day, sir. meats? no, i wouldn't bring in such a thing...animal products...gracious no, i'm well acquainted with my country's import/export policies...oh, salami? why yes, funny you should ask..." *producing large, phallic package from carry-on*

what i would like to know is, why salami, in particular? is that a more egregious violation of customs regulations than, say, leg of lamb or smoked haddock? perhaps there is a mad salami disease rippling through the united kingdom that our media has been remiss in reporting? either that, or i look like a girl who really loves her some salami. seeing as i haven't eaten red meat in approximately 20 years, i'd say his radar is WAY off. that being the case, who IS smuggling in this terroristic salami, i ask you, while this agent is busy positing questions to those carrying nothing but english tea, mr. men books, and enough belgian chocolate to choke a horse?

then again, it must be tedious sitting there in customs, watching people shuffle by with their luggage, in and out, all day long, going and coming from hither and tither, and never going anywhere yourself. maybe not even to the restroom, or to eat. perhaps he was just hoping that a kind, lunch-bearing stranger had arrived. "did you bring back any salami? maybe with muenster cheese and tomato, and a dollop of mustard? no? alright then, move along. next! excuse me, sir, did you bring back any salami...."

anyone? anyone?? hasn't anyone in this godforsaken place brought back any mother f*&^ing salami?!

madness is not just for postal workers anymore, my friends.

how to be a babe magnet

click here for instructional video

 so, this video is labeled "somali" although it looks like something out of a bollywood film, which to me would suggest "indian." either way, i offer my humble interpretation. by the way, if you're looking for a way to score with an imaginary chick, your ship has come in.

the lesson here is that if you happen to see a beautiful hitchhiker when driving in your sporty american vehicle through the snowy mountains of Somalia (or wherever your BMW might have taken you), the best course of action is to stand up and make wildly gyrating motions with your upper body, which is sure to draw her over. be sure to engage the emergency brake while doing this, so your vehicle does not plunge over the snowy ledge. once she joins you in the vehicle, she is then likely to turn into an indian princess in diaphanous robes. (note: she is likely to disappear and reappear without notice; do not be alarmed by this). it is preferable that at some point you run away with her scarf, rub your grubby cheek against it and wave it around near some livestock. when she snatches it back, that is when you should pursue her in your orange life vest and throw her to the ground amongst a flock of sheep. you and she will be granted several wardrobe changes throughout this experience, which will allow you to practice tai chi on a snowy mountain top. (it will not be necessary to dress appropriately for this activity.) be sure to make many sweeping gestures with your arms while you do so. this will cause a hot air balloon to randomly appear, in which you and the indian princess should abscond, with no regard for who might be the rightful owner or whether either of you is aware of how to operate it. be sure that during the trip you continuously graze her skin with your mouth, but try to refrain from having any actual contact. after the flight, when she appears in pink and spins in a field, you should approach her from behind and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, but be sure your mouth continues to move for several minutes after you're done speaking. if she tries to get away, just give her scarf a little yank to keep her in line. now that your relationship has progressed, you should both do pairs figure skating moves on the mountaintop. this will inspire her to fling her arms awkwardly around your torso. soon, you will realize she was merely an angel of your imagination, at which point you will magically stumble upon your vehicle and drive away, smiling to yourself. you then arrive at your destination as if nothing has happened, but carrying with you the sweet sweet memories. ah, romance.