Day 37: Tuesday
Good morning Zak,
Sorry this letter comes to you later than usual. I’m still jet-lagged from my flight over.
Zak, I’m sure I’m not the first person to notice this, but my recent flight has reinforced for me how much airports are different in different countries. As a case in point, when I was going through security in Italy, there was a girl in her twenties playing with her hair, leaning casually against the conveyor belt:
“dove vai di bella questo pomeriggio?”
“he he he, ‘USA’. che bello! USA, cio è USA dove?”
“Chicago. Ha ha… I guess that is pretty funny.”
It’s very strange. The security officials in the US are completely different. Despite using fancy technology to look at you in the nude, they don’t seem as interested. Maybe that’s not as paradoxical as I think:
“Sir, you are required by national United States law to accurately disclose your destination to me.”
“Dis year, to keep me from tears…
Am I allowed to find this amusing? I mean, Italians find my accent amusing all the time…
In Italy, one of the things employees often look for in a job candidate is presenza. They will declare this in the advertisement:
Wanted: airline security person. Experience with international law enforcement, competence with standard policing weaponry, and presenza. Please be sure to wear a nice outfit to the interview. You know, try to show a little skin. Giggly coquetry preferred.
Sorry everyone. I’m just telling you the way things are.
I know in recent months many of us in the US are bemoaning a massive step backward for gender equality…