vanquished obstacles

What a fantastic feeling it is to be happy to be an American abroad! People of all nationalities were congratulating me, as if I had suddenly morphed, from a representation of ridiculousness and stupidity, to the embodiment of hope and change. President-elect Obama...thank you! I heard of the victory via short-wave radio, translated from Nepali, in the Chitwan jungle. I'm still catching up on all of the coverage, speeches, and pictures of spontaneous celebration, but am glad to be back, and know that I'll be at the inauguration.

It was not an easy journey back, however. After illness, altitude sickness, and exhaustion, the airport authorities the world over decided to make my journey a little more "interesting". In Nepal, I was frisked a total of 3 times. As if, in between one pat-down and the next feel-up, I'd be hiding things in between the cups of my bra. But most ridiculous, the Nepalese government has a rule that 500 and 1000 denomination Indian rupee notes are illegal in Nepal. Ok - it isn't legal to try and pay with them, no problem. But it is also illegal to possess them. A fact that you only discover upon entering Nepal. So, I didn't use the Indian rupees that I had, because it was illegal to try and convert them. In trying to get out of this beautiful country with absurd security procedures, my handbag was checked - after being through 2 x-ray machines. And then, my wallet, which was inside my handbag was checked. And the 500 rupee notes were discovered. "These are illegal to have in Nepal, madam."
"Yes, I understand that, but I am leaving now and going to India."
"But you cannot have them in Nepal. It is illegal."
"Ok, but I did not find that out until I arrived in Nepal. What was I supposed to do then? Where was I supposed to keep these notes?"
"It is illegal."
"Ok, sorry. But you can't have them. Now let me out of this country!"

I was frisked once more, on the runway before climbing the stairs to the plane.

And as if this was not arduous enough, in Delhi, when I try to enter the airport to board my 15 hour flight to NYC, the over-eager police man standing at the door will not let me in. Because my paper ticket has the wrong flight time on it. So, can I go to the airline counter to fix the problem? No. I must go to some outdoor Air India outpost, stick my head into a small hole in a concrete wall that is about chest height, and try and convince the poor schmuck who is working the midnight shift in the concrete box that my ticket had been changed.

After 15 hours, can I just get off the plane and enter the US, already? Please? Alas. No. Life cannot be that easy. The customs officials wanted to inspect the shoes I wore in Nepal. Because I was in the vicinity of YAKS. They had not been cleaned (because who cleans their hiking boots in a hotel bathtub before going on an international flight?). And they had yak poo on them. Or some other unidentified dirt. He offered to clean them in a 3 hour, government sponsored disinfecting process, unless I promised to go home and clean them right away. The government cleans your shoes? Who knew.

One would think that this was enough. After 3 friskings in Nepal, 2 more in Delhi and a 15 hour Air India flight, how many more obstacles can be put in my way to Baltimore? 3 more, apparently. First, the TSA officer did not think my passport picture was me. Then, she did not think that my second form of ID was me either, because both have a Nirali with long hair. So, she wrote some codewords on my boarding card, that caused the next TSA officer to ... wait for it... Frisk me! Again! Then, I was placed in a "holding area", also known as a glass box, and an announcement was made. "Female Houseguest". This is code for check a woman out, in the anti-terrorism sense. Jeesh! Don't they have more interesting people to frisk at JFK?

Despite it all, it is good to be back in the New America. I just hope it doesn't suffer the same fate as New Coke.