Dearest Rachel –
Every new port – well, at least every new country that we come to – has its own rules regarding customs declarations, and stuff like that. You can only bring so much into the country, and you can only bring so much out, especially when it comes to certain, let’s just say, ‘sinful’ items. Alcohol, tobacco, firearms (I can’t remember if there’s ever been anything about explosives thus far, but come on)… I certainly understand why countries are concerned about stuff like that. You certainly don’t want to corrupt – or worse – your own population with too many of these items.
I’m a little less clear when it comes to the fact that certain countries won’t even so much as allow you to pack a lunch when you go off the ship to wander around. I mean, I get that Australia had a really bad experience with people bringing in rabbits once upon a time, but how is a sandwich going to ruin their biodiversity? Same thing on the way out; Polynesia boasts of its tremendous fresh fruit – and don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic, by and large – and then tells you can’t bring it ‘home’ with you. By the way, I use ‘home’ in quotes here, because if I was going to try and keep it with me until I was going home, this issue would make a lot more sense; everything would rot within the next two, two and a half months of my trip. But come on; you’re telling me you don’t want to sell me your consumables for me to take back with me? Seriously, I don’t get it.
Still, rules are rules. If they’re going to agree to let me in, I have to agree to follow their own house rules as well. It’s incumbent upon one to be a decent guest; because that’s how it is when you’re traveling. You’re a guest in someone else’s house. The fact that that ‘house’ is a country is somewhat irrelevant; it’s their place, you abide by their rules. It’s not that they’re particularly onerous to abide by, either; just occasionally rather puzzling.
Which is where we get to the customs declarations – and I mean declarations, plural – for Indonesia.
Again, there’s nothing particularly unusual about any of this; there are basically most of the usual statements about how you’re not bringing in too much of any particular good, nor are you carrying inordinate amounts of cash. I will say that it got me freaking out slightly to see numbers like 100 million or a billion rupiah; I mean, who on earth carries that kind of cash? Turns out, upon further research, the Indonesian rupiah is particularly small; apparently, the $64,000 Question would be enough to turn you into a billionaire in Indonesia. And while that’s still a lot of cash to be walking around with (and not a good idea in any situation that I can think of – who walks around with enough cash in their pockets to buy a reasonably luxurious car?), it’s not out of the realm of possibility for certain folks, I suppose. I’m not completely sure as to why carrying so much currency would be such an issue for governments – it can’t be enough to upset the country’s economy, I shouldn’t think – but I don’t doubt that someone who does so is acting particularly suspiciously; it’s not the carrying of cash that’s the issue, it’s the question of why he’s doing it in the first place that raises red flags.
All of which is really rather beside the point. The actual strange thing about the customs declarations for Indonesia is that they are, in fact, plural. I’m to submit the paper form to the customs official when I get off the ship in Mataram, Lombok, but in order to go ashore in Bali, I need to have filled out much the same form online so that I can present the officials there with the QR code linking to my completed form for their own reference.
You’ll recall me mentioning that Lombok and Bali have had a certain amount of… history between them. This is one of those things that makes me wonder if they still aren’t dealing with certain… issues. I could make all sorts of speculative guesses as to why each location requires the traveler to follow separate instructions – and why there might not be any (or at least, sufficient) communication between one administrative district or another – but to get too deep into the weeds would probably eventually turn into a matter of either slander or libel, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to go there. Still, I’m not going to lie; one’s imagination does get the better of one in a situation like this.
But we’re not quite where things get weird just yet. You’ll notice on the page we received from Royal Caribbean about the customs declaration process that, in order to go into Bali, we have to fill out an electronic Customs Declaration form “36 hours prior to arrival in Benoa, Bali.” This could mean one of two different things; either this needs to be filled out within 36 hours prior to arriving in Bali, or no later than 36 hours prior to arriving in Bali. The problem is that these are mutually exclusive options, and there’s no indication which one is correct – or if there are penalties for choosing the wrong option.
You and I used to read and watch videos about memes back in the day; one that you’ll recall making the rounds nearly a decade ago started out with the expression “instructions unclear,” and, without going into any further detail, would relate the horrific hilarity that ensued from trying to follow such instructions; oftentimes, getting one’s anatomy improbably wedged in a ceiling fan. It was best not to dwell on the “how,” of course; the point was to laugh at the slapstick result. Rowan Atkinson made a character (and thereby, a career) out of the before and after of such things, and he’s by no means the first or last to do so, either.
Be that as it may, there is a certain fear among men regarding asking for advice when confronted with such issues; maybe we’re afraid of getting our “man card” revoked or something? However, given the format of the meme (not that it’s likely to happen if I screw up this particular bureaucrat item, but any outcome has a non-zero chance of happening), that seems a worse way to lose one’s man card; I made my way to Guest Services for clarification. Lo and behold, we were to go online as soon as possible and take care of this matter, so as to have the code to present to the authorities, which I promptly did as soon as I returned to my cabin – one thing about my profession, when confronted with papers to fill out, we get them filled out and done with as soon as we can, to get them over with and out of the way.
Lord knows what’s going to happen to the folks who decided to wait until after 7pm last night. Maybe they won’t be let ashore in Bali. Maybe they’ll get their junk stuck in a ceiling fan (although I confess to not having seen any ceiling fans anywhere aboard this ship. Still, non-zero possibilities and all that).
Either way, at the risk of seeming a little callous, I don’t suppose it’s something I need to concern myself with. What I do need to concern myself with is getting myself put together and ready once we dock and get the all clear to go ashore at Lombok this afternoon. Tomorrow (and Bali with it) has trouble of its own, as the proverb goes.
In any event, honey, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m probably still going to need it
Letters to Rachel 