Customs Frontline ((top)) Site

Let me take you behind the screen.

It is 6:00 AM. The tarmac is cold. The scanner screens are humming. And I am standing on what we call the "invisible border"—the Customs frontline.

On the frontline, "nothing" is often a red flag. customs frontline

She cried. I felt awful. But African Swine Fever doesn't care about your feelings. The sausage stayed with us. That is the cruelty of the frontline: you are paid to be polite, but you are trained to be ruthless about biology and law.

So why do we stay on the frontline?

Wish me luck. And please—just declare the sausages. Have you ever had a surprising experience at Customs? Share your story in the comments below, but maybe leave out the part about the sausages.

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." Let me take you behind the screen

We call it "targeting." Outsiders call it profiling. I call it pattern recognition.