Three Black Spots

Homeland Security

Ayesha was 11 years old, and really into skeletons and creepy crawlies. Her favorite plastic skeleton was Mr Pickenberg, a white gangly fellow we bought in Bombay, and he was her traveling companion on our first trip to the US. In Paris she acquired a green rubber snake, with had lots of curves and lots of bounce. I think it was actually called Le Snake.

Her hand luggage consisted of a bag with her precious Walkman, and the Pickenberg and Le snake nestled on top. At the airport, a tall handsome and well muscled gendarme with his automatic weapon slung over his shoulder checked her handbag. He put his hand in, and almost screamed as he jerked it out, clutching the snake, shaking it away from him, unable to let go.

The entire security line burst into laughter, the cop looked sheepish as hell, and he sternly wagged his finger at Ayesha and admonished her in French not to travel with a snake in the future. Thank God it was pre 9/11. These days, such an event could well earn us a stint in Gitmo.

We have a lot of fun going through security with Yoda. The guards usually don’t know what to make of him. In India, the first question they ask is ‘ Asli hai?’. Is he real? Then they want to see his boarding card. Nothing is official in India until it is stamped, at least twice and Yoda can only pass through if they can punch out an official piece of paper. No, the excess baggage voucher will not do. We have now trained the airline staff to give us a dummy boarding card. It takes so little to appease bureaucracy.

Yoda loves to play with the giant sniffer dogs who patrol the security and customs areas. He assumes that being fearless and cute are an unbeatable combination, and so far it has worked for him.. The dogs are usually about five times his size, and look like they could swat him aside with their tongue, but they have always been friendly. At Chicago airport, he fell in love with one of these beauties, and spent all his time making nice. The big dog responded in kind, and soon there was a love fest with much sniffing going on. The security guard was thrilled that his boy had found a pal. ‘Hey buddy, you’ve found yourself a new girlfriend’. We told him that Yoda was male, and suddenly his mood changed. ‘ My guy ain’t gay’ as he dragged his giant off to another corner of the airport.

Yoda got himself profiled big time at JFK. He waltzed through the metal detector, his harness set off the beeps, and he was pulled aside. Mina who normally has to be wanded because of her jewelry was waved on, but the security person picked up Yoda and placed him on a table. A team of two then ran a wand up and down his body, paying close attention to his paws and tail. They patted him down, looking for C-4 or Semtex, held him up by his front paws, and looked at his underbelly. They moved his bow to one side, and peered to see if an Uzi was nestling in his top knot. They took off his harness, and ran it through the X ray. Yoda preserved his sang froid, Mina withheld her rage, and I looked to see how many potential terrorists were walking through as Yoda was being given the treatment. At the end of it all, they placed Yoda gently down, patted him on the back and said ‘ Have a nice day’.

Zurich airport took the cake. One of the guards wanted us to put Yoda through the X Ray. Her simple explanation was ‘He will be exposed to more radiation at 36,000 feet than in the machine. Don’t worry, he will be fine’. We had to stand our ground, refuse to budge till the supervisor came by and waved us on. There is nothing more lethal than a little bit of eddication, with a strong mixture of pseudo science. Or maybe, she was just bored.

We have now learned to be very minimalist when going through security. No pens, no watches, no bling, no change, no wallets, and above all no heavy metal gear for Yoda. The simplest leash and harness, the pure fabric bow, and a fistful of papers to show that he has been micrchipped, rabies protected, spayed, groomed, and has no bad breath.

We’re all learning to travel light.