Returning to Seattle

As I arrived back in Seattle, one of my first culture shock moments was when I went through customs. I was walking down the steps into the a large room where you have to stand in line to talk to the customs agent.

The customs room in Seatac airport is a large room with metal "switch back" maze that you wait in line to talk to the customs agent. I must have had the most giddiest smile on my face as I stepped into the room. Finally a place where I knew the rules. No one was pushing to get to the front. Everyone stood an 'apprioprate" distance from each other It was just a bit of heaven.
(*Won't that be pretty scarey if the gates of heaven really did look like customs? YIkes.)

it's funny how my perspective on the rooms was very different this time verses when i returned from my trip from Nicaragua a couple of years ago. When I had gone through it before, found it crowded, slow, and full of way too many people. Now i found great comfort in the order and the organized maze.



Although my body was in the US, my behavior , at least for a moment, was back in AFrica. As I got up to the front of the line and I dutifully stood with my toes touching the neon line waiting for the customs agent to wave me in, a couple was walking over from another line. They walked in front of me and went to the next agent when it was my turn! With out realizing it, I started making it known that I was next and they were cutting and I was definitely next and blah blah blah. The women behind me who was 'appropriately' standing her distance said, to me rather quietly and "properly" You know they were told by the customs agents they could come in front. I said, Oh,,,,,. Ok.