Mel’s green passport photo produced some laughs from the staff at Sydney Airport.
PICTURE this; you’re waiting in the immigration queue after a long, gruelling flight, barely able to keep your eyes open, and suddenly a staff member flings an unexpected question your way.
That’s exactly what happened to these five travellers who have shared their rather interesting airport experiences in response to a Quora post that asked: “What is the most interesting question you have been asked at immigration counters at airports?”
Enjoy the strangeness.
MEL’S STORY *
“Is this a real picture? You look like a Martian!”
This took place a few months ago in Sydney’s Kingsford Smith Airport at around 6am. I had only just flown in from Singapore and was feeling pretty exhausted. Earlier that year I had made a new passport in Madrid, where the embassy royally f****d up my passport picture — the printing made my photo completely green, leaving me looking like the Wicked Witch of the West.
Horrified, I told the embassy guys that I couldn’t go travelling with a green passport photo ... what would people say? All I got in response was something along the lines of: “Eh, our bad. But hey, when you scan your photo it comes out black anyway, so what’s the worst that could happen?”
I recounted that tale, leaving the border control guy howling in fits of laughter as he stamped my passport to let me in to Australia.
RUPERT BAINES’S STORY
Arriving in Canada #1, in summer. (I was greeted with) a very deadpan, laconic immigration officer.
“Any drugs?” - No.
“Any weapons?” - No.
“Any bug spray?” - “Uhhhh. no. What. Why ...? Is it illegal?” (Thinking what have I done wrong?)
“Get some. You’ll need it. Go through,” he said, in the same dead pan, rather bored tone of voice.
Another time, arriving in Canada #2 (in winter, not wearing a big coat. Probably freezing, having arrived from warm San Diego). Another very dead pan, laconic immigration officer (asked): “Any drugs?” - No.
“Any weapons?” - No.
“Do you have a better coat?” Again, they were similarly deadpan.
“Uhhh, no ... Stupid of me, but just ... Ummm,” I replied.
“Sorry, I cannot let you in. Entrance refused. You’ll need to return to where you came from.”
“Whhuuat ... at? But ... I ... what?!” I said.
“Only f***ing with you. You can come into the country. But you must buy a coat — I do not want your death on my conscience for letting you in.” Again, it was said in an utterly deadpan, rather bored tone.
ANKIT PANDEY’S STORY
(At) Suvarnabhoomi Airport in Bangkok, Thailand. The immigration officer: A man past 40s or early 50s with a grumpy look on his face, at 3.30am local time. Me: A 24-year-old solo backpacker from India equipped with limited information (hostel address and a folded map).
Officer: “Where are your friends?”
Me: “I’m travelling alone sir.”
Officer: “Indian and Pakistani boys don’t travel alone, what is your purpose?” (Maybe he was just toying with me as I was sleep-deprived and he noticed it on my face.)
Me: “Sir, I plan to tour the country and visit popular tourist spots around. Monsoon rains are over so I want to enjoy the green countryside on a motorcycle and click some pictures.”
Officer: “Are you married?”
Me: “No sir!” (With wide eyes wondering what’s exactly wrong.)
Officer: “You’re here for sex and want to lose your virginity, isn’t it?”
Me: “I’m sorry sir, but why do you assume that?”
Officer (a bit scornful): “Listen young man, I know that your parents have fixed your marriage and you don’t like the girl so you’re here to fulfil your sexual fantasies. But you’ll keep coming here every year or so after your marriage and keep making us earn more and more! You’ll also attempt to smuggle some gold on your way back!”
Hearing all that drained my enthusiasm entirely and I just kept quiet, cursing all the troublemaking tourists in my mind. A couple of moments later, he starts grinning on my sorry face and almost chuckles saying, “I was just joking boy, don’t mean to offend you. You have fun but be careful. Don’t get in trouble”.
And I walked away stone-faced.
The things you hear at immigration ...Source:Getty Images
SASHA REPTOVA’S STORY
At Qeshm Iran Airport. I handed my passport over.
Officer, staring into the computer, says: “I am sorry madam, but Slovakia is not in our system. This country does not exist.”
Me: “What do you mean it does not exist? This is my passport and it says as you can see Slovak Republic.”
Officer, staring into computer, typing: “Madam is not here it does not exist”.
Me: Getting freaked out.
Officer, with more officers accompanying him staring into computer. “You sure it is right? Slovakia?”
Me: Getting really irritated.
Officer: “It’s not here it does not exist.”
Me: Highest scale of annoyed. “Can you google it?”
RAGHAV GOVIND JHA’ STORY
US Immigration officer at Abu Dhabi Airport: “Why are you going to the US?“
Me: “I am pursuing PhD in Physics at Syracuse, New York.”
Officer: “Isn’t it too cold there? How long before you finish?”
Me: “Yes, it is! I am used to it now. I will finish in another four years or so.”
Officer: “Do you know anything about string theory?”
Me: “Not much, little bit.”
Officer: “How many dimensions do we live in?”
Me: “As of current physically accepted theories: Four, Superstring theory: 10.”
Officer: “Ten? Why don’t we see them?”
Me: “Because, those dimensions are very small!”
Officer: “Do something so that we can see them! Have a safe flight.” - stamps (the passport).
Me: “Thank you.”
* Name changed upon request.
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