Of quarantine and customs gates

And how grateful I am that the good people in Kasumigaseki (literally, mist seat, politically, the subway stop where the Japanese governments are)  have realized swine flu will not kill us all.

A while ago I heard horror stories from returning Golden Week travelers.  They spoke of bunny suits, ski goggles, ir thermometer guns, and hour-long trapped-on-tarmac inspections.  As my plane touched down at the end of May, I was fully prepared for an extra half hour of boredom. In fact, I was even a bit paranoid because I was feeling a little chill. Perhaps the flight itself had tipped me into the “feverish” zone?

A pleasant surprise then, to only suffer suspense for ten minutes, as a blue smocked fellow walked down one aisle and up the other. I actually mistook his actions as preparation because he wasn’t really looking at anyone.

Moral of the story: low expectations save the day.

Expectations were higher for customs, however, because I am a triply registered alien. Registered to work, registered to leave/enter the country, AND registered for (wait for it) the Automated Gates.  This lets my bypass the entire customs line when leaving and entering the country – since only registered people can use the gates, I get through even more quickly than most Japanese citizens.  Kind of like Clear, but free.   You scan your passport, scan your fingers, an attendant does a brief verification of stuff, and on you go.  I like systems that reward people who know what they’re doing. On the other hand, I feel like I’m being rewarded for something like my willingness to suffer through the initial registration process.   Reminds me somehow of taking standardized tests.  Maybe because it’s a really esoteric “problem” but once you get the patterns, it’s really easy.

Anyhow.  This totally wouldn’t save you time in the US because you’d have to wait an hour for your luggage to appear.  Coming back to Narita,  I got through customs and baggage in 20 minutes.  Happy camper.

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