Some of you – one of you – prefer that I do not rant. Unfortunately, my sensibilities have not caught up with my age, so I will do so now and then, but I promise, with cause.
Most of the articles that follow this will be about Cuba. I had a bittersweet time there, but only truly despised my experience at the airport, both on the way in and out.
To wit, the Cuban immigration officials may be best described as witless, tail-less, monkeys – not just any monkeys but Class Moron.
As I entered Cuba, I was approached immediately by a voluptuous woman (no uniform) in jeans and a white blouse and what appeared to be a large tropical flower growing out of her hair. She asked me a few questions, took my passport and disappeared.
At various times I found her walking purposefully to and fro, with my passport stuffed in her armpit, the back pocket of her tight jeans etc – I'd much rather it had been me tucked so. Anyway, at length I saw her hand it off to two goons who asked questions I could not really understand – something about "seguridad" and health – I started yabbering about vaccinations and medical insurance cards, which I had actually not brought with me.
Finally, possibly an hour later I was let through, with one of the goons handing my passport (with some sotto voce instructions) to a clerk who came out specifically to man one of the 20 stations, most of which had by now closed as all other passengers had left. She passed me through, not stamping my passport, but just the disembarkation form.
As I approached Customs a number of people were having their bags eviscerated, and as I thought of joining, one man said pass through Green Channel. As I started that, another very tall man commandeered me and yet again, my passport. He finally asked some intelligent questions – going to my expired US work visa page, he asked where I lived. When I finally explained that that visa was expired (the date obviously printed) and that I had left the US even before that, and currently lived in Singapore, he triumphantly turned to one of the goons and explained this. I finally left the airport.
Likewise, on the way back, the moron immigration official perused my passport closely, finally asking me to stand by and handed it off to a fat uniformed official. This time I decided to follow her to her room, where two morons, including her, were keenly staring intently at a screen (I could not see if it was even on) and a passport, not mine. The skinny woman whose it was was also standing at the door, I suspect Cuban and occasionally asking questions and answering as well. It appeared the problem was that she had two names, one during childhood and one later; and that there were one or two children involved. As one moron, presumably equipped with bionic laser vision continued the rigmarole of staring at the passport and the screen, the woman turned to me, exasperated, seemed to suggest they'd keep us till we paid.
Finally the Moron 1 passed off that passport to Moron 2 and came out to question me. I said I was a tourist, I had visited such and such places.\, and showed her the cards of the respective casas particulares I had stayed at. Then I went back to the same Moron Clerk and he morosely stamped me through. I'd told him earlier in Spanish to stamp my passport, but the Moron Clerk obviously thought I was asking him not to.
So dear readers, for all you know, I might be making up all my articles on Cuba, for I have no proof I went there. But I sure as hell am not making this bit up.
And from now on, no more ranting, at least regarding Cuba.
PS: It is very possible they were a) unfamiliar with a Singapore passport b) Thought I was a US resident and unsure what to do c) clueless. I'd put my money on all of the above.
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