Customs for Customs

Anyone who has travelled to another country knows that before you land in a country, you are asked to fill out an immigration and/or customs form. These forms are almost never fun to fill out, but I find them fascinating.

First of all, all countries seem to require different sizes, shapes, and formats. Never mind that we all somehow came to an agreement on passport size and formats (different colors for different countries). When it comes to customs forms, there are some really long, others square, some with two sections, some with carbon copies. I personally like the ones, like Mexico's, where you have to fill out the same information twice, sort of like when you enter a new password for a system.

Enter your name. Now enter it again. Whoa! It's not the same - are you sure you don't have your personal CAPS Lock on?

And some countries seem to try to find the hardest shape to fit anywhere. I can imagine them sitting around - ooh ooh let's try to make it hard to fit in a pocket! Or a passport! Or a large duffel bag! Yeah, that'll be great!

But most of these forms seem to ask for the same information, although I admit I can't understand the reasoning behind it. Your name, passport number, where you've been, what you're bringing in or taking out - all reasonable. But marital status? Profession? What is that for? Or how about asking your date of birth and then asking your age? What is this? A math test?

I suppose this is in case you are a criminal. But what good does marital status do? Help you find suspects?

"We have the suspect in our sights now sir! No wait, did you say he's married? Oh, cancel that - this guy is clearly single. He doesn't even have a wedding ring! And he's definitely not an accountant - way too athletic for that! (sorry to all my accountant friends) Let this guy go - he can't be the guy we're looking for."

Of course I can rant all I want, but when it's time to go before the Immigration or Customs Officer, I'm all business. I've tried smiling at them, but apparently that's not permitted. I had one guy actually carry on a conversation with me beyond "How long will you be in the country? What will you be doing?", which I thought was great. But then he smiled at me. Big mistake. The Immigration Enforcers swooped in from somewhere and carted him off, shouting, "We told you Bob, no smiling!" It wasn't pretty.

The scariest time was when I travelled to the Philippines and I was reading over the customs form and saw in large letters: "Death to Drug Traffickers under Phillipine Law 1234". Death? Wow. I hope Tylenol doesn't count? What about Ibuprofen?

I suddenly felt the need to change my form. Name: Brian Bruner, Martial Status: Married, Profession: NOT Drug Trafficking

Apparently it worked since they let me in...