When I got off the plane at Narita Airport and got in the line for immigration, the first thing I thought was that I should write up a guide for immigration and customs for other nervous people who, like me, would rather bathe in natto than deal with questioning and bag searches and all the potentially time-consuming and embarrassing things that can happen at this stage.
My dislike of immigration and customs stems from my experience as a foreign-exchange student in college. On the way into Japan, I had prepared a document stating what electronics I was bringing into the country because I was told that if I didn’t have the document, I might have trouble bringing my (extremely clunky and extremely American laptop) back home with me. If you buy electronics like iPods or laptops during a visit to Japan, you are apparently supposed to declare them for customs purposes upon your return. Somewhere along the line someone got things mixed up, and I found myself standing in customs with a document with two Japanese customs officials looking at me like I had a second head for trying to explain that I was carrying an American laptop.
While this was frustrating, the States’ side of things was a carnival of horrors. Because my flight was delayed, I was in Detroit with about 1 hour to get to my plane to my hometown. This is plenty of time for a domestic flight, but not when you have to get through immigration. First, my bags were searched. I then had to drag three heavy suitcases and a laptop bag to a completely different terminal while people refused to stand to one side of an elevator or people-mover to let me pass. I cut myself on one of my suitcases and had to search for a band-aid. (I still have no clue how that happened.) Finally, I had to change quite a bit of yen to dollars. I boarded that plane on the last call with literally 30 seconds till the gate closed. Even though the majority of my problems occurred at the Detroit airport and not at Kansai International, you can see where I had some trepidation about immigrating as a foreign worker.
At Narita, I’m standing in line with my carry-ons thinking about how wonderful and useful my blog entry on surviving immigrations/customs will be, and how I can help other future Specialists and expats. What a boon I am to my program! I think, rolling my suitcase up to the worker in window 15.
Immigration: I touch my fingers to the appropriate scanners for digital fingerprints. I smile at the camera for my photo—even though I feel like immigration is perhaps too much SERIOUS BUSINESS for smiles.
Ta-da! I’ve just passed through immigration!
Well, that wasn’t so bad, I think—but customs is coming up. I gather my suitcases at the carousel. I’d like to take a moment here to applaud Japan for having free luggage carts. This is truly a beautiful thing, and the carts even have brakes on them so you can take them up the escalator without crushing yourself. I push my cart up to customs. I’m a little scared because I’ve used those space bags that you roll the air out of to make your clothes flatter, and the prospect of having my bags searched and re-rolling those bags is doing nothing for my nerves. What if my 100-count bottle of Advil is considered too big for an over-the-counter item? Just how many Midol are considered a 2-months’ supply?
As I begin the sequence for “commence freak out,” the man behind the counter looks at my passport and customs declaration and waves me through. No questions, no searches. Keep in mind that you have to fill out a customs form saying how much yen/home-country cash you’ve brought, how many/much taxable goods (alcohol, tobacco, perfume) you have, if you have more than the legal limit of prescription or over-the-counter medications—which you can get a permission form for, if you need it—and such. Since I didn’t have anything interesting on the form or in my bag, I breezed right on through customs and off to the Program buses to our hotel.
I wish I had something a bit more interesting to report, but I hope this post will reassure people that airport immigration and customs are really not that scary for the average traveler. Tomorrow [this was written on Tuesday 8/4], I’ll experience my first domestic flight in Japan when I leave orientation for my new home. I highly doubt it’ll be as interesting as watching international in-flight movie 17 Again in Japanese—if only because it contains such lines as 「俺のボールを返して、ビーチュ」 (Ore no bo-ru wo kaeshite, bi-chu–“Gimme my ball back, bitch”), which made me crack up, much the bemusement of my aisle, who were listening in English. I like to think, though, that even small adventures–like the complete lack of problems in customs—are blog-worthy for the potential ex-pat.
I hear that the hell you get in customs (or don’t) in Japan has a lot to do with who you are and where you’re coming from. White Americans with nice shiny responsible-looking visas, coming from the US, tend to have no problems.
Case in point: on my way back to Narita over Christmas break, I checked that I had “prohibited or restricted items” with me, since I had brought a bag of clementines with me to keep me nourished in-flight and hadn’t eaten them all and fruits and vegetables are the sort of thing customs people can be super neurotic about. (And I once had clementines snatched away from me by a vicious customs official on a train headed from Montreal to NYC.)
Yet when I got to customs, they looked at my slip, looked at me, and waved me through. Inwardly, I was like, “BUT I HAVE PROHIBITED OR RESTRICTED ITEMS!!! WHAT IF I HAD SWORDS OR PORNOGRAPHY?!” (Don’t you love the no swords/porn/drugs cartoons at customs?)
Friends living in Japan who’ve gone to and from Thailand, however, report rather more hassle at customs. I’m planning a get-away to Hong Kong over the winter holidays, and I’m curious to see how that will change my customs experience as well.
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