How do I know? They won’t make eye contact. Their knuckles are white on their roller bag. When I ask, "Did you buy anything abroad?" they answer too quickly: "Nothing. No. Nothing at all."
Tomorrow, I’ll be back at 6:00 AM. The screens will hum. The cargo doors will open. And I’ll stand on the invisible line between the global economy and the rule of law. customs frontline
That’s when the smuggler tries to blend in. A truck driver with a "rush order" who refuses to open the back pallet. A warehouse worker who suddenly has a new Rolex. We work hand-in-hand with police and sniffer dogs here. We cut open stuffed animals, drill into steel shipping containers, and sift through tons of sand looking for fentanyl or fake pills. How do I know
Last week, a grandmother came through. Sweetest person you’d ever meet. Her suitcase x-ray showed a dense, organic block. My heart sank. But when we opened the bag, it wasn't drugs. It was 40 pounds of homemade sausage—pork, unrefrigerated, wrapped in banana leaves. When I ask, "Did you buy anything abroad
How do I know? They won’t make eye contact. Their knuckles are white on their roller bag. When I ask, "Did you buy anything abroad?" they answer too quickly: "Nothing. No. Nothing at all."
Tomorrow, I’ll be back at 6:00 AM. The screens will hum. The cargo doors will open. And I’ll stand on the invisible line between the global economy and the rule of law.
That’s when the smuggler tries to blend in. A truck driver with a "rush order" who refuses to open the back pallet. A warehouse worker who suddenly has a new Rolex. We work hand-in-hand with police and sniffer dogs here. We cut open stuffed animals, drill into steel shipping containers, and sift through tons of sand looking for fentanyl or fake pills.
Last week, a grandmother came through. Sweetest person you’d ever meet. Her suitcase x-ray showed a dense, organic block. My heart sank. But when we opened the bag, it wasn't drugs. It was 40 pounds of homemade sausage—pork, unrefrigerated, wrapped in banana leaves.