Traveling

My original intent was to create a purposeful account of my trip to Petersburg. Slow internet, confusing time changes, jet lag, and a lack of solitude have made it difficult for me to organize my thoughts. I find myself challenged to relate these happenings in any organized fashion.

So I´m telling the story in bits and pieces. Perhaps that´s the ¨modern¨way to tell a tale: in fragments. So here's a few fragments. 

After a bumpy start where I managed to lose my ukulele on the bus from Queretaro to Mexico City, we made it to the airport and few out at 12 midnight to Cancun. We got there at 2 in the morning and made it to the hotel by 3, with enough time to check into the Comfort Inn and get some sleep.

Next day we flew to New York. After waiting in line we did the immigration check where robots scan your passport and take your photo while leading you through the process in a female voice which is cheery but firm. "Please press down on your passport while I scan your photo. Please stand up straight for your photo." Racing from one place to the next in the airport we went through a security check. An impatient security person scolds, "Shoes on the table, shoes on the table," and as you search for a bin to put your shoes on, she repeats, "The TABLE." Shoes on the TABLE. Technically, it's not a table at all. I wouldn't eat off it, certainly. Who would? One never puts one's shoes on the table. She catches my eye again, nearly screaming, hysterical, glaring: SHOES ON THE TABLE. I get it. I comply as the smarter travelers shove by me. I begin to move again.

"Do you have a laptop?"

"Yes."

"You need to take that out."

In point of fact, I have no need whatsoever to do this. But this is the new way to command people to do things.  In English class, people ask me the meaning of the word "must." I tell them it is now mostly legal language. In the airport when security commands us, they say "You need to..." Technically this is not correct as I feel no need at all. I need to eat, to breathe, to eat and sleep, to love, and so on. But I have no need of giving my nice MacBook Air to the security at JFK. If you're listening to me, please don't take this as unpatriotic.

"You need to take that out, Sir. The laptop."

Dutifully, I separate the laptop and find a bin. Also a separate bin for my e-book reader. (I have two, so two separate bins).

"I need to see your passport and ticket sir."

I show these as I struggle to remove my belt.

"We're not doing the belt, sir. You need to keep that on."

Meantime I check my pockets for coins and put passport, coins and keys in my jacket for safekeeping.

"Remove the jacket please. It goes in that bin."

I'm trying to remember where my shoes are as I 'm shown to the full body scanner. I'm told it makes quite an accurate image of what one looks like under one's clothes. 

"Stand on the line, sir."

I look down and see two yellow footprints painted on the rubber as I stand inside the huge plastic tube. I stand immobile in the "hands up!" position.

I hear a whoosh.

Hold your hands up, sir.

Another whoosh.

The guard waves me on. I assume I'm finished.

No. They want to frisk me. Now he's feeling my inner thigh.

"Excuse me," I say. "I hardly know you." I try to diffuse the tension with a smile and some humor. They're not having it. 

"Sir, are you wearing a money belt?"

In forty years as a world traveler they've never asked me this.

"Yes."

"You need to remove it now."

I comply. 

"Show me the money, sir."

Is this all really necessary? I wonder. Now they're worried about my neckbeads.

"Sir, do you have something around your neck?"

 I open my shirt.

He sees my Hare Krishna beads and is satisfied. Maybe he'll make detective. Anyway I made it.

Or not. Where's my belt? My jacket and belt are on the other side. I retrieve them. Gradually I'm getting dressed again. But the other security guard, an older gentleman with a goatee has my packback. He's alarmed. There's an additional security check.  He's getting hysterical. 

"Water! Do you have water?"

There's a tiny bottle of about 200 milligrams of emergency water for taking my medicine. They've discovered it. He nearly goes ballistic.

I pass security. Welcome to New York.

Half an hour later I realize that I left my MacBook Air in a security bin with the friendly guards. They quiz me on the photos on my desktop to make sure its mine. 

What a trip. I think the United States is becoming a police state. I won't be surprised if they elect Trump. 

Russian security and immigration took about 10 minutes. The only problem was they lost our bags. It took us almost a week to recover them. They put out a trace. 

I'll post more later as I get some time.

Meanwhile here's some fotos.