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Humble Arabian Pie anyone?
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<blockquote data-quote="Marguerite" data-source="post: 206625" data-attributes="member: 1991"><p>husband & I were 22 when we married. We went to Malaysia for our honeymoon, flying in to Singapore for the second week. We'd just come from a very detailed security/customs search unheard of back in those days - to leave Penang all our luggage was searched in our presence, we had to handle everything in case it was boobytrapped or something, guards carrying machine guns at the ready were standing there watching and pointing what they wanted us to do next. husband had to open up his tubes of shaving cream, we had to open every bottle of shampoo, husband's camera bag came in for close inspection, he even had to take his telephoto lens apart. And it wasn't just us - there was a long queue of people all having to do this. Only then could we have our luggage sent to the plane and then wait, with just our hand luggage, in a tiny little whitewashed room where a lazy ceiling fan rearranged the humidity... so by the time we finally arrived in Singapore I was feeling very nervous. Compared to Penang (as it was back then) Singapore was white, shiny, large, efficient. A polite but firm guard approached me and asked, "Do you have any secrets?"</p><p></p><p>Pardon?</p><p></p><p>He repeated his question even more insistently. "Do you have any secrets to declare?"</p><p></p><p>OK, we were just married. Was he wanting me to unburden myself about perhaps the depraved sexual practices of the newly married Westerner, perhaps?</p><p></p><p>Then he mimed smoking. "Any secrets?" he repeated. "Sec-a-rets?"</p><p></p><p>Aah. Cigarettes! The light switched on. "No, sorry, I don't smoke." I began to walk past. He firmly stopped me. It wasn't a guard trying to cadge a cigarette, it was a Customs inspection.</p><p></p><p>Fortunately, he had a sense of humour because by then my nerves were frayed.</p><p></p><p>Marg</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Marguerite, post: 206625, member: 1991"] husband & I were 22 when we married. We went to Malaysia for our honeymoon, flying in to Singapore for the second week. We'd just come from a very detailed security/customs search unheard of back in those days - to leave Penang all our luggage was searched in our presence, we had to handle everything in case it was boobytrapped or something, guards carrying machine guns at the ready were standing there watching and pointing what they wanted us to do next. husband had to open up his tubes of shaving cream, we had to open every bottle of shampoo, husband's camera bag came in for close inspection, he even had to take his telephoto lens apart. And it wasn't just us - there was a long queue of people all having to do this. Only then could we have our luggage sent to the plane and then wait, with just our hand luggage, in a tiny little whitewashed room where a lazy ceiling fan rearranged the humidity... so by the time we finally arrived in Singapore I was feeling very nervous. Compared to Penang (as it was back then) Singapore was white, shiny, large, efficient. A polite but firm guard approached me and asked, "Do you have any secrets?" Pardon? He repeated his question even more insistently. "Do you have any secrets to declare?" OK, we were just married. Was he wanting me to unburden myself about perhaps the depraved sexual practices of the newly married Westerner, perhaps? Then he mimed smoking. "Any secrets?" he repeated. "Sec-a-rets?" Aah. Cigarettes! The light switched on. "No, sorry, I don't smoke." I began to walk past. He firmly stopped me. It wasn't a guard trying to cadge a cigarette, it was a Customs inspection. Fortunately, he had a sense of humour because by then my nerves were frayed. Marg [/QUOTE]
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