Flight Notes: On the 6 o’clock a.m. flight, none other than Mr. Evo Morales was on the same flight to Cochabamba. With his trademark blue jacket embroidered with “Somos MAS” and his white and black “tenis” (athletic shoes), he boarded the plane carrying nothing. Taking his seat in first class, it struck me as odd as he carried no papers to review or anything to read (imagining the Seinfeld episode where David Putty sat staring ahead on the flight much to the dismay of Elaine). This is one of the most active and involved men in Bolivian politics, and he nothing to read or look over? He attracted a lot of attention from the Military Police standing watch on the runway. Evo was greeted by a MAS delegation in Santa Cruz.
The lines for immigration at Miami International were filled with passengers from all parts of the world. Even the line for U.S. citizens was populated by Americans from all different ethnic backgrounds. As with this line and the customs line, I try to pick the most friendly and welcoming face among these public federal employees. This time in the immigration line, I picked incorrectly. My passport is expiring next year after nearly ten years of service, and one would expect to look older than they were ten years ago. Coupled with not shaving in quite awhile and sporting my glasses, the officer doubted my identity. “Where’s your brother?” he asked, insinuating that I was using “his” passport to enter the country illegally. “What are you trying to say?”, I questioned. Any reaction would bring about a feeling of defensiveness and had to calmly explain to him that it was a ten year old picture and that I was wearing my glasses. He sort of rolled his eyes at me and waved me through maintaining his doubt. I should have flipped out my driver’s license to “prove” my identity, but it was buried somewhere in my carry-on.
Comments (5)
OK. I’ll be mean. Do we even know if Evo can read?
But sorry to hear about your “migra” troublems. I’ve a little trick I use: I size up ther person on the line as I make my way towards him/her. Deepending on their race, I switch up my accent a bit (Latino, urban, or Southern) & say something about how it’s good to be home, while looking tired & pissed off at my flight (even if I’m fresh & had a pleasant flight). I usually get a chuckle and then a few “I hear ya” or whatever, and a quick “Welcome back.”
These guys think that they are some sort of amateur psychologists and try to get you to admit something. It’s just something I’ve noticed in the past 2-3 years, sensitivity of all the Homeland Security stuff I guess.
Oh, that was mean!
A friend of mine told me, immigration people are trained to try to trick you, so they can catch you. If you know what I mean.
In other words. They kind of provoke you (slightly) and they wait for your reaction. People who are doing something illegal, tend to become nervous. And, these provocations gradually increase depending on the lightness of your skin.
The last part, I am thinking, is not part of the training, but it happens.
” I’ll be mean. Do we even know if Evo can read?”
That’s so mean that it made me laugh.
i ask myself how do you send some negative “tips” ” (some selected negative things) from Bolivia to the internet without mesure, maybe just have lived a couple of months here and acting like an FBI agent; so creating a bad image from these lands