I WAS NOT accustomed to this type of treatment from a customs officer. In fact, all my experiences have customarily been ‘wham, bam, thank-you ma’am’ types, where I would walk away satisfied, always having a positive customs-officer-to-customer experience. But this time it was different. I had arrived in Trinidad and Tobago and the officer questioned me as if there were some sort of ticking sound coming from my luggage.
Ticked off by the impoliteness of his approach, I took a deep breath. Perhaps he was just having a bad night. “So yuh sayin’ yuh ain’t have anyting to declare?” he barked, behaving like a Sir Warrior on steroids.
Well reader, all of a sudden I started to feel real nervous. A sniffer dog was passing.
Now, in the world of humans, if you think you see a friend walking by; you may give a big hail, even if you’re in uniform, right? Or, if you think you glanced him, you may try to get to him, so you could have a conversation and catch up on old times.
In the world of dogs, I suppose that a similar thing happened.
You see, my precious Blackie loves to get into my suitcase and sleep. In fact, suitcases save me money, since I don’t have to buy dog houses anymore. Once the case is open, the dog is in it. So, after Blackie rubbed up all over the suitcase and then sat on it before I left for the airport, I suspect that this sniffer dog got a whiff of an old friend.
I’m part dog whisperer, so let me translate the conversation that ensued: “Sniff, sniff, waaait! Blackie, das you?” (The sniffer dog was Bajan, perhaps sent to Trinidad as a CARICOM skilled national.)
No reply, because what dog doesn’t know is that Blackie is in Barbados, biting up shoes at this very moment.
“Wah gine on, gurrrl? She like she got you lock up in dey? Eh? Eh? Blackie? Blackie?!? I gine get you out, doh worry, I gine get you out!!!” The dog frantically circles my bag and sits, as if to reassure the non-present Blackie that he was not leaving until I emancipated his furry friend.
Lord havest mercy. Palpitations, cold sweat and bad-feels.
You know when you on the highway – you not breaking the speed limit, but the police behind you – how you does feel? Well, it was a feeling similar to that feeling I felt, as Trini customs officer nonchalantly stared at Bajan sniffer dog.
Nervousness and me don’t mix. My friend Donna visits Trinidad regularly, with souse in socks and pudding packed in panties, without declaring a thing. When the officer questions her, she simply smiles calmly and says that she’s visiting “on business”.
I – who don’t even have a lil Mount Gay in my suitcase to wet my dry throat – frighten for no reason. Officer opens my bag to find clothes, books and shoes. Finally, I exit. I return home tomorrow. First order of business: buy Blackie a kennel.
Veoma Ali is an author, broadcaster, advertising exec and most important, a karaoke lover.