It’s the time of the year, dashing peak season!
After parting goodbyes to my dearest friends and family, I set off on part one of my flight.
After a movie marathon of 6 hours, I had a short transit in the land of oil, a glorious oasis of the barren desert, Dubai. My plan was to find nourishment to last the 5 hours of transit and to plot the rest of my route in Yosemite. Everything was fine until I had to pay for my Shake Shack burger. Upon shaking my credit card onto the little blue screened payment gadget, it turned red screaming “REJECTED”. The situation did not improve the harder I shook. Upon the third retry I conceded and made the walk of shame back to my seat; empty-handed, but far from defeated. I scoured the airport for a money changer, sacrificed some of the USD I had for AED and finally gobbled up my transit burger.
Then it was part two: a grueling 16 hour flight.
I was slightly worried that jetlag would jeopardise my adventure in Yosemite. So to acclimatise to the new timezone, I made sure I only slept in the plane when it was night time in Yosemite. Big praise to Emirates for their flight services. When I was not busy sleeping, I’d be eating, watching movies, or all three at the same time.
16 hours later: Good afternoon San Fransisco!
Unfortunately the very first welcome I received in SF is a slithering queue that stretched beyond the customs hall into the boarding gate corridors, comparable to the massive weekend crowd at JB customs.
Time was ticking fast, yet the queue shrivels only sluggishly. If I don’t do anything, I might miss my train to Merced and thus my first night’s accommodation.
Then I had a eureka moment: If I can convince the people in front to let me go first, I can still be on time. Surely a good reason paired with a bright smile over a courteous delivery would move some hearts!
My first adversary was a lady with her son. I hesitated for a moment, rehearsing my lines in my head; before surely unleashing my impeccably convincing argument.
“Hi ma’am sorry to bother you. I am late to catch a train, so I’m wondering if you could allow me to go ahead first?” I blurted out, hopeful for their kindness.
“No, I am also late for a transiting flight!” She countered cold and unreciprocatingly.
I paused for a moment, clenched my throat, and wet my lips, ready to summon an even more convincing pleading reply. Alas I could only blurt out:
“Oh ok.”
I did not expect such a premature defeat. She was my first and my last opponent for the day. I felt that I should have asked what time her flight was or drilled further into how I can convince her to let me through, but I thought I should not be too hard on coercing people into giving up their queue. So I bit my tongue and swallowed hard, accepting that I would have to make impromptu plans to survive the night without the train.
It doesn’t end there. When it was finally my turn to be examined, the border officer in blue noticed my completed declaration form and asked.
“What meat did you bring?”
Thinking bakwa isn’t a word in the US, I summoned what description I had of bakwa
“It’s a… candied chinese meat!”
He didn’t look as puzzled so I figured it was enough.
I had to take it out and show it to him for inspection. Then he broke the news to me
“Meat without FDA certification cannot be brought in”
I watched as the man in blue dutifully seized my dear deli.
It was only the first day, but I have already had to say 2 farewells. Goodbye train, goodbye bakwa.
Unwilling to depart for my adventure without my chinese meat, I began racking my head on how to get replacement. Coincidentally, my airbnb host was Chinese! She would have known where I could get bakwa.
I sent her a picture of bakwa and enquired. She asked if I were Chinese. I said yes and then she started replying to me in chinese. Not wanting to sound un-Chinese I just replied her thanks and reatreated to google translate that told me she was referring to a chinese supermarket called “99 ranch market”!
That sums up the day of arrival to San Fransisco.
In summary, this is how NOT to enter San Fransisco:
Bring unmarked meat product, and have less than 3 hours buffer after landing. Say you’re chinese when you don’t speak chinese…
Dashing Heights 