On all my trips abroad lasting more than a week, I used to carry south Indian snacks like Muruku-kodubale, nippat, kharasev, etc. As security was not the prime concern of airlines then, I had absolutely no problem in taking not only these snacks but also accompaniments for rice like pure ghee, chutney powder, methi flour and Andhra pickles. Since most of these items had the risk of staining clothes if kept in checked in baggage, they invariably would be kept in my hand baggage. However after 9/11, carrying masala powders and pickles became difficult, making my trips little tougher. Nevertheless the advent of ‘heat and eat’ foods somewhat eased the problem.
Once I had to go on a long tour and hence packed my handbag with dozens of packets of ready to cook and eat food. Imagine my chagrin when the security man at the Bangalore airport removed all those packets saying that they are prohibited in hand baggage. Forced to throw the packets away, I decided to keep such foods only in the checked in baggage, but continued carrying snacks in my hand baggage.
Last year on my trip to Australia, as the plane was about to land, the video screens in the plane displayed a visual which informed that no food item is allowed in Australia and if any passenger is carrying such items, they must be thrown in the special dust bins kept in the corridor leading to the customs lobby. It also warned that smuggling of any food item would result in imprisonment. I felt nervous as I had loads of short-eats in my hand baggage.
Since Australia’s first inhabitants were prisoners from Britain, I imagined being imprisoned in jails like Andamans. While I didn’t want to consign my home-made snacks to the dustbin, I didn’t want to be confined in a jail either. I opened my handbag and within the next 15 minutes, consumed the one week quota of snacks and washed them down with a glass of water. I sailed through customs with a smile.
Six hours later I had a severe bout of loose motions. I had to visit a doctor urgently, pay a hefty fee and get myself cured of the ‘after-effects’ of the short-eats. I resolved that henceforth I will be a Roman while at Rome and eat whatever I get in a foreign land and stopped taking eatables during my visits abroad.
However when I was to visit Israel last month, someone told me that yoghurt is not available there. Addicted as I am to curd rice, I hit upon an idea. I purchased a dozen tubs of probiotic yoghurt and kept them in my hand bag.
When I neared the customs green channel at Tel Aviv, a uniformed guy approached me. Being scared of Israeli security, I started profusely sweating. The gentleman stared and asked me whether I am carrying any food item. I hesitantly said ‘yes’ and proffered my bag. As he slowly opened the zipper, a sudden muted sound akin to a minor explosion was heard. I became very nervous indeed. But when I saw the face of the customs officer, I could not curtail a laugh. His entire face was smeared with yoghurt.
It was not difficult to guess that due to internal pressure, the seal of the yoghurt tub had popped open as the customs man opened my hand bag and its contents had smeared his face. I tried to wipe his face with my ‘hanky’. He gave a menacing look and ran towards the washroom. I ran towards the exit.
