Pack Mule part 2 of 4

But immigration hadn’t really been the part I was nervous about. Next, was security.

I rounded the corner with my suitcase case and saw the x-ray machine.

My courage failed me. Previously, I had secretly hoped that I might get stopped at the border. How cool would that be? It would certainly make for a much better story. I realized now how foolish I had been.

While security at the border crossing is not quite as intense as security at an international airport, it is more than I would expect simply going from one city within this country to another.

Unlike the orderly lines at the immigration desks, thing can be little chaotic at the security check point. It’s kind of an open corridor with the big x-ray machine to one side and several security guards milling about.

During my debriefing period, my host had told me that at this point each courier would have to make his or her own decision. It is possible that in the melee of people, I could stroll right through with my case in hand. The obvious advantage to this would be that –if successful- I would be able to skip the x-ray machine, which -considering what I was carrying- seemed like a pretty good idea. The downside of trying to roll past the x-ray machine, was that if I was stopped, I would be drawing unwanted attention to myself.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do until I approached the x-ray machine. The crowd of people moving through was fairly dense. I made the split second decision to try to roll on by. I’ve used the I’m-just-the-ignorant-white-dude-who-doesn’t-know-how-things-work-around-here routine before, and I figured I could fall back on that. It’s surprising how far a shoulder shrug, a dopey look, and some mumbling can get you. I put my head down and kept walking. Just about when I was even with the x-ray machine, I heard a commanding voice bark something in a language I didn’t understand.

Pack Mule part 1 of 4

[a guest blog entry from "a friend" somewhere along the border]

I met my contacts just outside of the convenience store at 2:00 p.m. as scheduled. The man and woman lead me to their headquarters in a non-descript office building. The front half of the large workroom was stacked floor to ceiling with cardboard boxes filled with recently arrived inventory that had not been processed or repacked. The middle section of the office space was lined up with dozens of cases that were loaded up with materials and ready for delivery. The far end of the office was filled with a small desk with a computer on it, a second-hand sofa, and a slightly dinged-up whiteboard. It was here that my host sat me down and gave me an overview of what were about to do, the risks involved, and what we should expect. He also went through several scenarios of what could unfold if things went wrong.

These days, bringing materials over the border is not fraught with the perils that it was in the recent past. A dozen years ago, a friend of mine was arrested, smacked around a little, and made international news for doing the exact thing that I was about to do. But times have changed. None-the-less, it was not risk free.

Once all the formalities were taken care of, we were ready to head out. My two contacts and I were joined by a fourth person, a western woman of in her late thirties. We each grabbed a case or two. They were heavy, which should not have surprise me considering what they contained.

We were off.

We snaked our way through the neighborhood, met our transport, and made our way to the border. Getting through immigration on this side went without a hitch. That was the easy part; next we had to go through immigration on the other side. I handed the immigration officer my passport and the form I had filled out. I smiled and tried to appear as innocuous as possible. He scanned my passport with his electronic reader and reviewing my travel history that came up on his computer. After he compared me to the picture one more time, he waved me through.

So far, so good.

JVN Rules for writing a blog

I have been writing this little blog for over 21 months. It has just over two months of life left in it before I shut it down and move back to Chicago. It's been fun. It has grown and taken on a life of its own in ways that I never expected.

I realized that along the way I have developed some rules about blogging for myself. I sat down the other day to reflect on those rules. I wrote them down for my own benefit, but I thought that you might be interested in taking a look as well.

As always, thanks for reading.

-keep it short. The reality is that your life is not that interesting. You’re lucky you have any readers at all. Respect their time.

-keep it focused. One idea, story, or point per entry. No aimless musings. You’re not Jack Kerouac. You're not Don Miller.

-Keep it funny. You’re allowed to make fun of anybody you choose as long as the person you choose is you.

-you get to use one exclamation point per month. Choose wisely.

-Be consistent. You have to blog regularly. It doesn’t matter if it's every day, every-other day, or every week; but be consistent.

-No dumping. If you haven’t updated your blog in a month and a half (see above), no vomiting onto the page an overview of what you've been up to since last summer. Save the summative overviews for the annual Christmas letter.

-In the words of my sixteen-year-old niece: “Good grammar is sexy.” And spelling, too.

-Tell stories. If you have a point to make, that’s great, but embed it in a story. People like stories.

-Compose your blog entries in Word. Let them sit for at least a day or two. Go back, re-read them, tweak them, and then post them.

Hello, Jazz

Until last year, Ford Motor Company had an Eddie Bauer edition of its Ford Explorer. When they first came out, I thought that it was a little strange that Ford would partner with a company famous for their down parkas and canoe paddles. But after seeing Eddie Bauer on the back end of several Explorers, I got use to it. In fact, it makes a certain amount of sense from a marketing point of view.

Here in Asia, Honda has its own variation on the concept. I just saw my first “Hello, Kitty” edition of the Honda Jazz.

Other than the logo on the back, I couldn’t see an difference between the standard Jazz and the Hello, Kitty edition.

I don’t know, maybe when you beep the horn, it meows.

It's a little service I like to offer

When you come to Hong Kong to visit, not only will you have your own personal tour guide who will lead you around so that you don’t have to look at a single map, but your tour also comes with your own roaming photographer. It’s a little service I like to offer. Everywhere you go around Hong Kong, I will be there taking pictures of you, the scenery, and random Hong Kongers on the street.

As I am sure my niece will tell you, it’s a little overwhelming and embarrassing at first. But you will get used to be photographed everywhere you go. In return for all these micro-moments of embarrassment, at the end of the week you will be presented with a DVD disc of over a thousand pictures of your week in Hong Kong and all of the places you visited. And a few random Hong Kongers.

It’s a little service I like to offer.

No extra charge.

-Jack

I Can’t Believe You Just did That part 3 of 3

It was only as she was re-entering my peripheral vision that I realized that Julie had momentarily stepped away from the rest of us. I turned to look at her and there in her hands were my rolled-up posters. She had not dropped them over the edge after all. It was all just a conspiratorial ruse. Julie did a taunting, gleeful, little victory dance and dangled the posters just out of my reach.

This revelation only sent my wife and my sister into greater fits of tearful laughter. I looked over to my friend David. He wasn’t saying anything. He just gave me a look that said “Hey, I’m innocent here, I had nothing to do with any of this.”

Between burst of laughter, my wife pointed at me and managed to say “You were actually going to climb over the edge!” as if I were the world’s biggest idiot and this was both the stupidest plan and funniest thing she had ever heard.

Tears were rolling down my sister’s face.

I took a few minutes and a lot of deep breaths on their parts, but eventually everybody settle back down.

By this point, I too was smiling. It was all just too infectious not to join in. But I couldn’t stop shaking my head. Great, let’s all have a big laugh at the nerdy history buff’s expense.

Ha ha.

I love my wife.

I miss my sister.

And just for the record, I was fully prepared to climb over that railing.

-Jack

I Can’t Believe You Just did That part 2 of 3

A few minutes later, I came back with the girls. When I returned, Julie looked at me, then looked at my sister, then looked back at me. Something was up.

Where are my posters?

Julie started to laugh, the kind where you are crying so hard that no sound comes out with the laughter.

What did you do with my posters?

By this time Julie was laughing/crying so hard, she couldn’t talk. She just returned to the railing, looked down, and pointed. Horrified, I looked over the edge, and saw a twenty foot drop into some really thick sub-tropical foliage.

My sister was fanning herself in an attempt to keep the tears from coming. It wasn’t working.

“I can’t believe you dropped my posters over the edge.”

“I am so sorry,” Julie managed to say between paroxysms of laughter. My sister and my wife were laughing so hard they had to hold each other up. Even my buddy David was laughing. Some friend.

I looked back over the edge to try to see my rolled-up posters in the fading light. I couldn’t. I figured the shop was closed by now so it was too late to go back and buy replacements. I looked over the railing again and tried to figure out how I was going to climb down there and retrieve my posters.

I said to no one in particular, “I’m glad that you all find this sooo funny. Ha Ha.”

Despite my panic and disappointment over my lost posters, I couldn’t help but crack a smile at the ridiculousness of it all.