Adam's Adventures in Oz

The Unheroic Journey: Adam's Adventures in Oz

Monday, January 10, 2011

The Customs of Customs

1-8-11: For some reason my biggest fear throughout my entire trip was Australian customs. For the last few hours of my flight time, this was my one and all consuming thought. I was prepared... I was over-prepared. I had every sort of document t you can think of, ranging from my birth certificate to my bank statements to my 2nd grade report cards. I suppose living in the United States you grow accustom to a certain amount of state-sponsored paranoia toward immigrants and I just sort of expected it from the Australian government. My mental images consisted mostly of being led into a dimly lit room where I would be asked to prove that I was not a terrorist or would be a drain on the Australian social economy with the most suspicious part being my lack of a return plane ticket and my attempt to smuggle a box of pop-tarts into the country (a gift for a friend).

So eventually I disembarked my rather uneventful flight from Sydney to Melbourne. The only thing to report from the flight being that I ordered a Coca-Cola and surprisingly discovered that it tasted funny. On further inspection I realized it was an Aussie Coke bearing the tag line: "Real Taste. Uplifting Refreshment." My best description is that it has a sort of Diet Coke twang to it...

Regardless, I stepped off from my flight and immediately proceeded to customs. I first had to fill out an Australian customs slip and report where I was coming from, where I was going, and declare any foreign products (like pop-tarts). I filled out the form dutifully and proceeded to talk to the customs agent. I started with a friendly greeting and an apology for my lack of skill with paperwork. He very deftly countered by saying it was okay since I am from New Jersey; (He was looking at my passport.) The next revelation came when he checked my visa and realized that my surname and my given name were reversed on the paper work, (effectively I was Brunner Adam). This made me a bit nervous and I was asked to step aside into a small waiting area where another person already stood. Another customs agent then took my paperwork and disappeared into a back room.

Meanwhile two more customs agents in rubber gloves approached the person I was standing with. The first words the lead agent spoke were, "So you might have Yellow Fever."

After overhearing this, I very noticeably jerked my head to look at the man and then slid as faraway from him as possible. Soon enough though, my customs agent returned, handed me back my papers, and said, "Welcome to Australia, Mr. Brunner."

I felt almost giddy walking away, and the feeling continued as I discovered that my checked bag had not been lost in transit (as I assumed it probably would have). My stomach again dropped as I got into a line where bags were being inspected, my thoughts turned again to the box of wheat and processed sugar I had in my bag. Soon enough I was approached by another customs agent who took my paperwork and looked it over.

She then looked at me, "What sort of food are you carrying?"

"Pop-Tarts," was my reply.

"That's it?" She gave me a look like, why would you even waste my time and stamped my slip of paper with a green stamp. She handed it back to me. She did not even ask me to open the bag to make sure that I was telling the truth. She just okayed my paperwork and the next thing I knew I was out among the general population wondering why I was so nervous about the whole damn thing.

My next step was to approach the airports information desk and present my voucher for my shuttle ride. The desk clerk gave it a once over and summoned a shuttle which took about 20 minutes to arrive. When it did I was directed to Bus Port 2, where the shuttle driver informed me that I was not in the right bus port as he was heading in the opposite direction. He pointed me to Bus Port 5 where I presented the voucher to another bus driver. He looked at it in confusion and asked for my ticket. I responded with saying that the voucher was all I had. He simply shrugged and loaded my luggage. That is the thing I am coming to discover about Australians, in general. They are very easy going. I have no idea if I was even on the right shuttle for that voucher to be valid, but the driver accepted it with hardly any question. It was something that in America, I am sure probably would have elicited a lot of huffing and puffing and maybe even a radio call back to headquarters followed by a 15 minute wait for confirmation. In Australia, all I got was a simple shrug. I found myself thinking -and not for the first or last time- that Australia really is a remarkable country.

5 comments:

  1. I feel like I could have alleviated some of your fears with going through the whole customs thing if I had known you were worried about that. There is something you will take from this experience, something that I learned going through Greek customs at least 15 times: If you are from the U.S., agents won't bother to check. Two quick stories, one similar to your Pop-Tarts story.

    1) One trip in 2006, I returned to Greece with six boxes of graham crackers (for some reason two friends of mine, one Greek, one Georgian had this affinity towards those cinnamony treats) along with other rare American foodstuffs. I was the only one going through customs for my flight from JFK->ATH->SKG (Thessaloniki) so I was stopped by an elderly agent, the only agent at the two table area. He asked where I came from. I said New York. He asked me if I had vodka and cigarettes. I said I'd be purchasing a pack of Old Holborn very shortly. He smirked and asked if I had any food. I said, "Graham crackers." He asked his last question. "What is that?" "Crackers." "Have a great day." I proceeded to the taxi stand to get my ass home.

    2) Venturing from Istanbul to Bucharest by bus, you must cross through all of Bulgaria, which in 2005 was going through a major crack down of the illegal gold trade for its accession bid to the EU. My travel companion and I were warned of this. We were also warned that the border between Bulgaria and Romania was not exactly the most welcoming place. Traveling into Bulgaria from Turkey was fine; no bags needed to be checked but I was asked a series of repeated questions that annoyed me. Apart from the bus paneling being removed to check from gold hordes, it was a routine border crossing. It was crossing into Romania that anxiety sat in as we were all handed this barely legible forms in Romanian, Russian, German that were supposed to be customs forms. I was one of two Americans on the bus. As our bus was detained for inspection, we were herded into a shack-turned-inspection area with our belongings. Notably, those who looked to be Roma were noticeably treated with suspicion and disdain. This made me even more anxious because I could not fill out the customs form. As the agent, or more accurately put, solider, armed with automatic rifle and other accouterments, came to me and my friend and asked something in Romanian, pointing to the form. I said that we didn't speak Romanian. He then promptly asked, "Where are you from?" "The United States." He then walked only to dump the contents of the next person's bag.

    I think my point is obvious. U.S.A., aye OK.

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  2. I also forgot to add that through all my travels, I have only been checked at customs about 5% of the time. Of those 5%, 99% was in Thessaloniki. Every time I stayed in Athens before wandering back up to Thessaloniki, I've just walked right out except for once.

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  3. America, though, is definitely dick to travelers. Unless you're US Military. When Jon and I came back from Germany, we were selected for random screen (which I truly believe is random; I've done now about two dozen flights and have been checked twice). They pored over every detail of my bag (but didn't care that I was carrying Cuban cigars). Jon just said he was a 1LT (and ranked over them) and off he went.

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  4. Yeah, as you continue on your travels and meet other expats, you will get to learn how much privilege you get to have have as an American traveling around the world. Things are so much easier for you than they are for everyone else. Especially those wishing to visit the States... Also, you'll get to enjoy learning about how amazingly nice total strangers can be to you while you're on your journey. I'm so excited for you! This is an amazing thing you're doing.

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  5. the different taste in the soda is they use a different type of sugar than we do in the US. Thinking its saccarine but not totally sure.

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