Passports!
I love to travel, but it isn't as easy as it used to be. Gone are the days when you pulled out your birth certificate at the border or used your driver's license as identification. Now a passport is the only identification that will get you anywhere. You can't smile in a passport photo, and so you need to get used to the fact that you will be henceforth identified, everywhere you ever go, by that miserable unflattering picture that manages to add about thirty pounds to your face. (The possibility that your passport photo could end up on the news should be good incentive to behave anywhere!)
Passport Picture (By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, August 2007)
Found a resort?
Get a passport!
Travel far and wide.
Show a photo
no one would know
back where you reside.
There is no sin
like a big grin
on a passport pic;
you can look mad
you can look sad
or you can look sick.
When you are posed
with your lips closed
it's a trial run.
Happy faces
had their places
when travel was fun.
Cleared for Boarding!
Air travel used to be so glamorous! Remember seeing those old photos of people hopping on early passenger planes, all dressed to the nines and wearing bright smiles of anticipation?
Things have changed. Now we don't bother to dress up, because lines are long, leg space is limited and we want to be comfortable. Smiling in an airport is a thing of the past. (We need to look something like those dour passport pictures we had to have taken to get us this far in the first place, right?) We all look worried - can't help it. We worry that looking worried will make us look more suspicious at the security gate, and worrying about worrying makes us look really worried. We ask ourselves questions - did I take every miniscule tube of cosmetics out of my carry on and put it in a baggy, or have I somehow made an error that will make it necessary to have my bag searched? Are my pockets completely empty? Will I set off alarms with my under-wire bra?
In a German airport I was briskly (but very thoroughly) patted down by a large blond woman who could've wrestled your average cage fighter to the ground with one hand tied behind her back. ( I later complained that she hadn't even bought me dinner : ) In an American airport I recently had my hands swabbed twice within ten minutes. (What is in that hand cream?) Recently I had my bag searched because I forgot (in my rush to get "expedited" onto flight that was two minutes past departure time) to remove my water bottle - yup, my bad. Amazingly enough the security people didn't question the fact that it was only water and a hurried mistake on my part, and I actually made that flight. (Whew!)
Once aboard you can wiggle and squiggle all you want, but chances are the noisy kid in the seat behind you or the person in the next seat who hogs your legroom or any of a dozen other possible complaints might make you wonder why you didn't book off an extra day or two and make this a road trip.
But road trips have their challenges too.
Welcome to the USA!
When road trips take you over the border, you can never really relax until get through customs. You may have a brief and pleasant encounter with a customs officer (which is usually the case), or you may have the misfortune of landing the guy who has had a bad day or is just plain mean-spirited...
At the Border: (By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, February 2010)
From mundane toiling we grew tired
and so some travel we desired -
we dug out passports, planned the route,
packed up the car and headed out.
Once at the border we were irked
by border guard who smugly smirked
and noting our son out of work
proceeded to be quite a jerk.
"Not working, huh - and out of school?
you'd best not take me for a fool,
and in deep trouble you will be
if by a roadside I should see
you selling fruit or hocking wares -
don't lie to me son - no one dares!"
Then with a small turn of the head
addressing husband now, he said,
"And you Sir - are you out of work?"
He heard response, then said with smirk
"Consulting? Let me be explicit -
No work here shall you solicit!"
His attitude did patience tax
our aim was simply to relax.
(His"land of opportunity"
held very small appeal to me,
and though I try not to be snide
I'm happier where I reside.)
We sought only to nerves unfray
in climate where the palm trees sway.
Work wasn't what we'd tried to find,
but what we'd hoped to leave behind!
Yes, nothing beats the customs officer who within the space of five minutes manages to insult every person in the car. My husband and son were accused of wanting to take 'Merican jobs, and in spite of the fact that the Canadian economy was considerably healthier at the time, it was assumed that we were looking to leave our son behind to work at McDonald's or a fruit stand - simply because he didn't have a job to return to. This insulted son ("If I wanted a crappy job I could find one more easily in Canada right now!", he remarked later) and parents in one fell swipe. I guess we just looked like lousy parents who'd dump their kid off on some American roadside to fend for himself!
"What guarantee do I have you'll be bringing this young man home with you?" we were asked suspiciously.
Blood boiling I managed to maintain my composure as I answered him.
"Respectfully Sir, none but the fact that he is our son, and we love him - and would miss him."
Then he turned to my mother, and asked about her dog and whether his shots were up to date. She handed him Buddy's paperwork through the window. He wanted a closer look at the dog, but the window was broken and wouldn't roll down farther. My mother offered to open the door.
He jumped back as she reached for the door handle and told her (well, barked at her, really!) to keep the door shut because he had no wish to be bitten by her dog. (I guess my mother just looked like the sort of mean old woman who would sic her vicious bichon frise on him!)
Fun stuff - I repeat - if crossing the border is on your agenda, don't plan to relax until you get past the guy in the booth! Once you've cleared the border you're ripe for the next set of travel challenges.
Navigate Your Destination!
Navigate what, you ask? Everything, that's what! Navigate unfamiliar streets, unfamiliar customs, unfamiliar languages and dialects. (Yes - this applies even if you're only going to the United States.)
Once you've survived the harrowing ordeals involved in boarding an airplane or crossing a border you can afford to let your guard down (a bit!) and begin relaxing. But somehow you need to navigate your way into not looking like a complete idiot now that you've reached your destination. And that can be hard.
We travel to see things that are new and different, but then get frustrated because we don't know where we're going or what we're doing. What a map labels as a shopping center might be a mini mart with a bank and a gas station alongside. Go with the flow.
The subways will confound you - keep a clear head. Navigate your way through the frustrations that go along with figuring out what to do when you're not sure where you are.
Navigate your way through those local customs and foods with grace. In some states when you order something that says it comes with gravy they will serve up nasty gloopy white flour and water paste. Strange as it sounds, this is what the locals call gravy. If you're not sure what gravy means in that particular locality, ask. Navigate your way through the menu before you order!
Acquaint yourself with the language, or at the very least be understanding of the fact that everyone doesn't speak English - or not the same English you speak. We once had an encounter at a Tennessee hotel that felt like something out of an old comedy routine, and all because we couldn't understand the hotel clerk and he couldn't understand us.
Chatanooga: (By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, March 2010)
In Chatanooga, at hotel
a wee old man answered the bell -
No "Chatanooga Choo Choo" here -
he might've chugged, but oh my dear
he obviously didn't "choo"
his teeth, I fear, were far too few!
This man of very ancient days
and graced with very southern ways
seemed most perplexed by what we said
and scratched his sparsely covered head.
And we were equally confused
by how the language he abused.
"Whose gotta pay-et?" questioned he
and we discerned - not easily -
translation was for this remark,
"who owns the beast that I hear bark?"
The English language varies so -
it changes everywhere you go.
Nation to nation, state to state
it takes some talent to translate
exactly what the natives mean
in many regions where I've been.
And curious as it may be,
the accent, they think, comes from me!
So I surmise I might sound odd
to those whose language seems most flawed.
Does "Chatanooga" chug along
laughing at how I sound so wrong?
Yup! I bet you any money
he thinks Canadians sound funny!
So wherever your travels take you, try to relax. Learn to navigate smoothly through the maze of new roads, customs, languages, and yes, even accents that await you there. Navigate your way to the coolest, craziest most different places you could hope to see wherever you are. Revel in the differences. Taste the local cuisine, see the landmarks; explore the back lanes and unbeaten paths.
And when you've had your fill and taken your photos; when you've made sense of the roads and the language and the mindset of the locals, navigate your way back home again.
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