Indian customs

If you thought this post was something about 'traditional Indian customs and practices', stop reading here. It's about my latest experience going through Indian customs at Delhi Airport.

Before I left Singapore, Mum had suggested I take with me some bakkwa, sweetened dried meat (usually pork) from the famous Bee Cheng Hiang franchise in Singapore. They're nicely packaged and would make nice gifts, given that most people I'm staying with are also huge pork eaters.

I didn't think India had any issues with meat imports. Then I saw the customs form. Through the sleepy haze of catching a 2am flight out of Changi Airport, I read at the bottom: Are you carrying any meat / meat products / dairy products ...

Years of travelling to Australia made my hand circle 'Yes' right away. I mean, it's all packaged. I'll show it to them, they'll just wave me through. I'm pretty sure they'd even wave this stuff through in Australia as long as you declare it. Nothing to worry about.

So I went to sleep. I was exhausted. When I woke a few hours later, my mind wandered back to the customs form, a nagging thought at the back of my mind. But it's India.

When I finally got through the immigration queue at Delhi Airport, I noticed that nothing special was written on the little customs slip I had. In Australia, the immigration officer generally asks you what you're declaring and makes a note on the form.

I picked up my luggage and started heading to the Green Channel. A rather bored looking man was going up to every second traveller asking them to put their bags through the X-ray machine next to him. Great. Before he could ask me to put my bags through the machine, I asked him instead where to go to declare things.

- What do you have?
- Some meat. Do I have to declare it?
- If you want to.
- So I don't have to declare it?
- It is better if you declare it.

He pointed me in the direction of three even more bored looking officers sitting on couches behind some empty counters with names like 'Currency Declaration' and 'Goods Declaration'. They didn't bother to get up when they saw me approach. I stood behind a counter and yelled at one of them that I had something to declare, feeling quite ridiculous as I waved the bag of bakkwa in the air.

- What do you have?
- Some meat!
- No meat allowed!
- But it's packaged!
- No meat allowed!
- So what am I supposed to do? Throw it away?

He then waved his hand in some general direction. I turned around but couldn't locate a bin that looked like it was designated for throwing away declared items. When I turned back, I saw the guy was still on the couch and had gone back to his conversation with the other two guys.

I walked towards to the Green Channel. The first guy I had spoken to was busy getting people to put their luggage through the X-ray machine. Just keep going. I headed straight for the door. There were two blank-faced guys there collecting customs slips.

I considered for a moment whipping out a pen and changing my answer to 'No'. Looking at the faces of the two men, I decided to take a gamble. The bag of 'illegal' goods still dangling from my arm, I walked towards the one on the left and thrust the customs slip in his hand..

He took the little piece of paper without so much as a glance. I kept walking. Freedom!

As I walked out, I couldn't help but feel a little glad that $80 worth of bakkwa didn't end up in a bin. I also realised that I would have felt a little guilty if I had just said 'No' on the form and walked out the door. I guess I'm so used to being truthful (or at least semi-truthful) whenever I clear customs in Australia. I usually have trouble lying straight to someone's face.

But it's India.