Asia: The Journey Home
Well, when I said "a post about my trip home is coming soon," it turns out "soon" meant "about a year." Anyway, here it is, to the best of my recollection.
I woke up early, said goodbye to my landlord, and jumped in a cab. This wasn't a hired car like the one I took to Simatai, but an actual taxi. In New York, you sit in the back of the cab and there's a plexiglass shield between the front and back seats. In Beijing, you sit next to the driver, though the back is also available, but the driver himself is enmeshed in a METAL CAGE. Really. You're sitting next to this guy, but there are bars between you. And the bars have lots of little pointy bits, which is good because if you're in a car accident, no one will doubt you when they see the scars.
I got to the airport a few hours early because I had no idea what traffic would be like. Turns out that was a good decision. At the security checkpoint, they looked at my passport and then grilled me for a bit about why I had traveled so much in Asia. Oddly, considering they're all Communists, they were most curious about what I had done in Viet Nam. "Why did you go to Hanoi?" "Uh, tourism?" "Who did you meet with while you were there?" "Um. Waiters?" "Why were you meeting with them?" "Uh, to order food?" Eventually they determined that I was not a Communist, which is odd because they are, and so permitted me to go past the checkpoint...
...and on to the next checkpoint. At this one, they had long lines of people in front of metal detectors. Then they announced that everyone flying to the United States had to go to a separate line at the end of the room. "Haha," I thought. "There's no one at the U.S. line, this'll be quick!"
No.
You know how the United States has all these ridiculous rules for flying, like you can't have more than 17 micrograms of fluid and you can't have any lighters or nail clippers or subversive materials or bombs or magazines in your carry-ons? But it's not a big deal because most U.S. airport security workers understand that the rules need to be flexible and are subject to whatever creative interpretation is necessary to avoid reaching a stupid outcome?
OK, keep that in mind while you try to envision how U.S. airport security would work if it were enforced by the Chinese military.
Yeah, so there were four soldiers in full military regalia plus assault rifles, and they had sophisticated electronics and a manual with the U.S. flight restrictions, and damned if they weren't going to enforce every single rule to the letter. They ran my carry-ons through a large machine that then displayed a pretty color image of its contents with large yellow circles around all the contraband (I don't know how it knew), and then they unpacked the bag, took out a forbidden item, scowled at me, threw it out, repacked the bag, and ran it through again to get more circles. It took eight repetitions and thirty minutes before the machine finally determined that I had been robbed of enough precious shampoo bottles and toothpaste that I could get on the plane. At least some of the things they removed from my bag were amusing to all the other Americans on line.
Worst part was they stole the singing Mao lighters that I bought in Tiananmen Square. They wouldn't even let me repack them in my checked bag. Grr.
The flight itself was uneventful. China Airways has mediocre food. And then I was back in the U.S.A., where it was bright at nighttime and I slept all day and it took me two weeks to recover from the jetlag.
One more post, a summation, will appear sometime. Won't take a year, I hope.
I woke up early, said goodbye to my landlord, and jumped in a cab. This wasn't a hired car like the one I took to Simatai, but an actual taxi. In New York, you sit in the back of the cab and there's a plexiglass shield between the front and back seats. In Beijing, you sit next to the driver, though the back is also available, but the driver himself is enmeshed in a METAL CAGE. Really. You're sitting next to this guy, but there are bars between you. And the bars have lots of little pointy bits, which is good because if you're in a car accident, no one will doubt you when they see the scars.
I got to the airport a few hours early because I had no idea what traffic would be like. Turns out that was a good decision. At the security checkpoint, they looked at my passport and then grilled me for a bit about why I had traveled so much in Asia. Oddly, considering they're all Communists, they were most curious about what I had done in Viet Nam. "Why did you go to Hanoi?" "Uh, tourism?" "Who did you meet with while you were there?" "Um. Waiters?" "Why were you meeting with them?" "Uh, to order food?" Eventually they determined that I was not a Communist, which is odd because they are, and so permitted me to go past the checkpoint...
...and on to the next checkpoint. At this one, they had long lines of people in front of metal detectors. Then they announced that everyone flying to the United States had to go to a separate line at the end of the room. "Haha," I thought. "There's no one at the U.S. line, this'll be quick!"
No.
You know how the United States has all these ridiculous rules for flying, like you can't have more than 17 micrograms of fluid and you can't have any lighters or nail clippers or subversive materials or bombs or magazines in your carry-ons? But it's not a big deal because most U.S. airport security workers understand that the rules need to be flexible and are subject to whatever creative interpretation is necessary to avoid reaching a stupid outcome?
OK, keep that in mind while you try to envision how U.S. airport security would work if it were enforced by the Chinese military.
Yeah, so there were four soldiers in full military regalia plus assault rifles, and they had sophisticated electronics and a manual with the U.S. flight restrictions, and damned if they weren't going to enforce every single rule to the letter. They ran my carry-ons through a large machine that then displayed a pretty color image of its contents with large yellow circles around all the contraband (I don't know how it knew), and then they unpacked the bag, took out a forbidden item, scowled at me, threw it out, repacked the bag, and ran it through again to get more circles. It took eight repetitions and thirty minutes before the machine finally determined that I had been robbed of enough precious shampoo bottles and toothpaste that I could get on the plane. At least some of the things they removed from my bag were amusing to all the other Americans on line.
Worst part was they stole the singing Mao lighters that I bought in Tiananmen Square. They wouldn't even let me repack them in my checked bag. Grr.
The flight itself was uneventful. China Airways has mediocre food. And then I was back in the U.S.A., where it was bright at nighttime and I slept all day and it took me two weeks to recover from the jetlag.
One more post, a summation, will appear sometime. Won't take a year, I hope.
posted by arie at 11:09 AM
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