28/12/2023
A (NOT SO) WARM WELCOME
Frankfurt International Airport – Dec 20, 2023
I stride purposefully through the labyrinthine area cordoned off in front of the border control counters at Frankfurt Airport. Having secured a seat in the front row of the economy cabin – yes, I still fly economy – near the main exit, I swiftly disembark the aircraft, eager to make my way to baggage claim. However, a crucial pitstop looms: passport control.
Approaching the yellow line, I lock eyes with a female officer who has taken the place of her, perhaps relieved, counterpart. A nod from her signals me to step forward and place my passport on the counter.
The ensuing dialogue unfolds as follows:
Me: Good evening, Ma’am.
Border Control Officer: So, Mister! What is the purpose of your visit?
Me: I live here.
As I begin retrieving my wallet from my jacket pocket, the officer, curtly, demands.
Officer: Where is your resident permit card?
Germans, known for their directness, spare no niceties. But the tone struck me as more than just efficient; it exuded intimidation.
Me: (complying) Just a sec, Ma’am.
As my resident permit emerges from my wallet, she snaps sharply.
Officer: (raising her voice) I don’t have time all day. People are waiting. Just give me your damn card.
Taken aback, I glance over my shoulder. The first passengers are still navigating the maze of guideposts with pulled bands.
My heart races.
Me: Ma’am, is this how you treat all passengers?
Officer: Mister, just give me the card. You are delaying everyone.
I hand over the card.
Me: Ma’am, you didn't wait five seconds before snapping at me. Is this the reception everyone gets?
She responds with one of those “don’t mess with me” looks.
Me: I know I'm a bit exhausted after the 9-hour flight, but I'm doing my best.
Officer: Just shut up! Don’t make trouble for yourself.
The threat in her voice is palpable. Intimidation, abuse of power, and authority, all converging.
By now, my chest pounds. I don’t fear anyone or anything, especially when I'm certain I've done nothing wrong. Yet, her harsh tone paints me as a criminal.
I retort immediately.
Me: This is not how you treat people entering the country. What's your name? Your ID number?
Officer: I don’t have to tell you.
Silent, she scans my passport. I turn to her bearded colleague.
Me: Sir, could you please provide me with her name and ID?
He ignores me completely. They're likely wondering, who is this guy? Why isn't he scared?
Well, because I fear only God, not man. Needless to say, my heart does race when I sense a threat or danger. Scientifically, I guess my amygdala responds with the fight mode rather than flight. What is going on under the hood is that I lose fear in such situations.
“Why be afraid of someone who can only destroy your body? Rather be afraid of the one who can destroy both your body and soul…”
I don't mean that in a religious fanatic sense, ready to blow myself up. Rather, when confronted with injustice, oppression, abuse, and the vulgar display of power, my fight mode is immediately activated.
I have another go at the male officer.
Me: Sir, can you at least tell me your name?
A blunt “No” is all I get.
Few know my middle name is “Singh,” derived from the Sanskrit word “SINGHAM,” meaning Lion. I don't often use it, but situations like this make it handy.
Did they just awaken a lion?
I salute them – honourable men and women.
The female officer slaps my documents on the counter.
Officer: Have a nice day!
Me: You too!
I swiftly collect my documents and leave.
This unfolded after a grueling 32-hour journey with a 16-hour layover in Mumbai. Completely drained upon landing in Frankfurt, such a warm welcome was the dessert after the main course.
I possess an inherently confrontational disposition. Admittedly, someone else in my stead might have chosen the path of silent acquiescence, but not me. Disrespect towards me invites reciprocity. However, I recognize that this may not always be the wisest course of action. I am in the process of developing the ability to overlook various trivial matters. Following my extensive journey across two continents, my discernment was undoubtedly compromised.
BAGGAGE CLAIM – BELT 53
At the baggage claim belt, an Indian gentleman inquired about the altercation. He shared a similar experience, recounting the officer's discourteous inspection. Later, he disclosed that he is a colorectal surgeon practicing in Germany.
Spotting an officer walking by, I promptly approach her, outlining the issue and requesting to speak with the supervisor. Initially, she appears uncooperative, indicating that her jurisdiction is customs, as evident from her tag labeled 'Zoll.' Nevertheless, I persist, urging her assistance in reaching the appropriate authority to file a complaint. She instructs me to wait and, assuring a return, walks away.
Moments later, she reappears in the company of a tall Turkish officer. The pertinent factor isn't how I identify Turks, but the crucial matter at hand. I won't expound on the reasons behind their population's swifter growth compared to that of Germans; that's a topic for your exploration. Nevertheless, I'll furnish a concise narrative on their initial migration to Germany.
Post-World War II, severe labour shortages led Germany to invite Gastarbeiters (German for 'guest worker'), mainly from Mediterranean countries. When the infamous Berlin Wall was erected between East and West Germany, it triggered a labour crisis. With a restricted workforce, individuals from East Germany faced challenges in relocating to work in West Germany. Consequently, in 1961, the West German government entered into a labour recruitment agreement with Turkey, extending an invitation to the citizens of the Republic of Turkey to work in their country.
NOTE: Germany played a pivotal role in both World Wars. Under the N***s, Germany initiated World War II and also significantly contributed to the First World War by offering unwavering support to Austria for the assault on Serbia. These wars resulted in devastating defeats for Germany, reshaping the geopolitical landscape and fostering efforts for international cooperation.
These defeats might have had a profound impact on the culture and psyche of Germany, influencing how people perceive themselves as a nation. Notably, there seems to be a lack of national pride in Germany. Additionally, there's a suggestion that a lingering sense of guilt persists due to the inhuman atrocities committed against the Jews under the N***s.
When I first arrived in the country in 2002, I observed that Germans were often apologetic, even for their English proficiency. Conversations with Germans in English typically began with an apologetic tone - almost every time, it was along the lines of, 'Sorry! My English is not very good.' Well, I believed it was certainly better than my German. I couldn’t even say 'sorry' in German. 'Entschuldigung' would probably sound like something akin to driving over a rumble strip. Another noteworthy point is that complimenting a German might not yield much. They tend to be modest, and excessive flattery may make them uncomfortable, resulting in a rather subdued response.
The best you can get from them in terms of appreciation is a 'Nicht schlecht!' - not bad.
You know what the last words of Nietzsche, the great German philosopher, were: 'Mutter, ich bin dumm' (Mother, I am stupid). Poor guy. After dedicating his life to uncovering the profound truths of life and humanity, all he thought of himself was that he was a dumb guy. And this was even before both world wars. Is there something innate coded into the genome of the Germanic people? Why do so many of them suffer from low collective self-esteem to this day?"
For someone born in India, it's hard to understand the lack of patriotic sentiment. In India, the celebration of independence from the British Raj is not just an annual event; it's a profound expression of national pride. What further distinguishes Indians is their perpetual readiness to celebrate. This distinctive cultural trait, marked by a constant festive spirit, stands in contrast to the perhaps more reserved efficiency associated with Germans.
In a more solemn vein, Germany boasts an array of accomplishments beyond the realm of fast cars and football prowess on the international stage. The nation has given birth to some of the world's preeminent thinkers, philosophers, artists, composers, and scientists. From the musical genius of Bach to the profound philosophy of Nietzsche, from the enlightenment of Kant to the groundbreaking scientific contributions of Einstein, and from the psychological insights of Freud to the artistic mastery of Dürer—this list extends indefinitely. However, a pervasive sentiment, akin to the aphorism that one negative occurrence outweighs a multitude of positive attributes, looms over the nation like an ominous black cloud. The question persists: Why did Hi**er's actions have to tarnish the reputation of such a culturally rich and beautiful nation?
The indelible scars of the Holocaust will perpetually linger in the hearts and minds of individuals, particularly among the Jewish community. Regardless of the positive strides made, the profound atrocities endured by the Jewish people under the rule of a tyrant are beyond redemption. I believe that Germany should liberate itself from the burdensome weight of historical guilt. Instead, the nation should forge ahead with a simultaneous acknowledgment of past mistakes and a commitment to a future where decisions are grounded solely in the merit of justice, unencumbered by the obligation to favour one nation over another.
Sufficient with the philosophical discourse; let us return to the narrative at the airport. I recount the entire incident to the Turkish individual, outlining the mistreatment I endured. His response is a vacant stare. Subsequently, I inquire about his authority, to which he asserts that the superior is ensconced in his office adjacent to the border check counters. However, gaining access to this office requires navigating the checkpoint once more, a prospect I recognize as impractical. Undeterred, I persist in my demand for someone endowed with the authority to censure and rectify the inappropriate conduct of the officer.
Following a momentary, contemplative gaze, the Turk directs me to accompany him. Our path converges with a female police officer brandishing an MP5 submachine gun. It remains striking how the mere presence of this metallic accoutrement draped around one's neck imparts an aura of formidable authority. Resuming my narrative for the third time, I find myself contemplating the efficacy of my endeavours – am I squandering my time in pursuit of an abstract concept like "justice for all"? Regardless, I am resolute in my commitment. I yearn for the transgressor to comprehend her transgressions, emphasizing that the disparaging treatment of foreigners is unacceptable. What I seek is not merely an apology, for such a gesture holds little value unless it emanates from genuine contrition and sparks a transformation in behaviour.
Initially, the police officer gestures toward the Chief's office, situated beyond the checkpoint. Weary and drained, I implore this astute officer to convey my message directly to the alleged perpetrator. I appoint her as the arbiter in this exchange. She acquiesces to the responsibility, possibly contemplating the eccentricity of the situation or questioning her preparedness for such a task.
She proceeds into the officer's cabin, trailed by the male officer stationed outside, his right hand casually resting on the grip of his MP5. After a brief interval, she emerges and approaches me. Anticipating the need for documentation, I activate the camera app on my phone and commence recording. The ensuing transcript encapsulates the exchange that unfolds.
Smart Officer:
Okay, apparently there was some just miscommunication between the two of you because she was missing your residence permit and apparently she was asking you about it.
Vikram:
No, she yelled at me. She was...
Smart Officer:
I wasn't here. Yeah. I'm just here. I'm the translator between the two of you. She just told me she's sorry if it sounded rude or whatever.
Vikram:
Can she apologize to me?
Smart Officer:
She can, but since there are a lot of people in line, I don't know if you wanna…(wait)
Vikram
It’ll just take a minute. (In fact) It'll just take 10 seconds.
Smart Officer:
No, no, no. The people in line are actually… priority first. So, if you want to stay here, grab your luggage and come back.
Vikram:
I mean, you know it takes 10 seconds. She can just see my face and say sorry.
It might take even less than that, you know. It might take less than that.
Smart Officer:
I know. I'm just, like I said, I'm just, I'm the translator between the two of you.
Vikram:
The way you talked right now with her probably took longer than it would take her to say sorry. You know what I mean?
Smart Officer:
All I can say right now…
Vikram
What's her name? Can I get her name at least?
Smart Officer:
I'm not giving out any names of my colleagues without their permission.
Vikram:
I mean, you should be, you're in public service, you should be wearing tags. I mean, you're carrying an ID tag.
Smart Officer:
She does too, but if she's sitting and she has it on her trousers, she doesn't see it.
Vikram:
Yeah, I mean, it doesn't help in any way. ID has to be on you, like here. (Points to the male police officer badge)
Smart Officer:
Like I said, all I can say from my position right now is that we are sorry for the situation that it occurred to you. And if you're good with that, you can grab your luggage and go.
Vikram:
See, looking at the history of this nation. People should be more kind when people, foreigners are coming in.
Smart Officer:
Sir, I'm doing my very best here. I know. Just being like, in between the two of you. I am actually on a completely different task right now. I know, I know. I'm just here like, for you to handle this situation somewhat properly. All I can say right now, for my colleagues, I'm sorry.
Vikram:
Okay, Alright, alright, I take that, yeah?
I accept that. One thing I'll tell you, when people are coming in, this is the first time it has happened to me. I've been coming here 20 years - for 20 years, and this is the first time it has happened to me. Apparently, she's having a bad day or she's having some other issue. I don't know, but please, this is feedback from me.
Be kind to people. And not only me… the people who were behind me, I just met them at the belt…They also experienced the same thing. Okay.
Smart Officer:
Then I can just say, I'm sorry.
Vikram:
So, you know, this lady, you tell her what she has to do. Otherwise. She'll run into more trouble. I'm just telling you that. You know what I mean?
Smart Officer:
Thanks for the feedback. I hope you still enjoy the holidays. Okay. Thank you.
Vikram:
Thank you.
[End of transcript]
I articulated my sentiments with the anticipation that this discerning officer would effectively convey the message, not only to her but potentially to her colleagues as well, ensuring that she refrains from displaying disrespect towards others in the future. Subsequently, I departed from the scene, inhaling deeply and adjusting my posture, not in celebration of a monumental achievement, but rather as a testament to my audacity in confronting discourteous and impolite conduct.
Above all, I departed with a narrative to recount, one that carries the potential to inspire and resonate with all who encounter it.
I appreciate your attention. Thank you!
© Vikram Bhandari
