airport again

Without doubt, the most openly corrupt policemen I've seen so far are in this airport. The dialogues I had to experience go usually something like this:

- passport... oh, turkish!
- yes, turkish.
- kardash! (which means brother in turkish)
- Mmm...
- So, you give me baksheesh (which means tip in arabic).
- I don't have any baksheesh today.
- You give me baksheesh? (coming real close and smiling)
- I don't know baksheesh.

At least, they give up easily. At the second security check, the tactic is slightly different. I know from last time not to leave any money in my pocket. They do a hand check of the pockets and make sure they have you empty everything. When the money is in the open and your passport is in their hands, it's more difficult to pretend you don't know what baksheesh means. This time, they can't find any money on me, but my passport is handed from policeman to policeman accompanied by "turkish" (I have a feeling my countrymen are known here to be more flexible in handing out tips compared to Europeans for instance who might be offended if asked for a tip by the police at passport control).

The last policeman makes the most through and private check I've ever seen of my laptop bag, going through my folder, receipts, print-outs, pretty much everything. I watch patiently his futile attempt to find something which he can use to snatch some money from me. Finally, he gives up and hands me my passport.

Normally, for someone who's lived most of his life in more "civilized" countries, I find myself at ease in this part of the world, but tonight in this airport I'm feeling restless. Maybe it's because it's midnight and I have a long flight across North Africa, maybe it's my experience with the police. I put on my earphones and listen to my favorite music as I observe other people around me...