This week found me in the huge city of Sao Paulo, Brazil. On the way back, there was a strike involving the customs officials/border patrol, known in Brazil as the Federal Police. These are the guys who look at your passport and stamp it as you leave. There were only two guys looking at passports as dozens of flights left. This meant a line of, without exaggeration, 4,000 people. I stood in line, again without exaggeration, 4 hours and 10 minutes (I timed it). Luckily, I had shown up at the airport six hours early, so I was fine. Most of the flights were being held for people to get through the line, so very few people missed their flights. But it’s still no fun standing in line for hours.
Behind me in line was a group of middle aged Asian women who didn’t speak English or Portuguese. And as I got to the front of the line, we went around a curve, and a big Brazilian guy cut in line and started pretending that he had been there, with all of his Asian women friends, all along.