Remember me? I’m the one on whom ‘explosives [were] detected’ during a random check at SeaTac Airport in January.
It was my hand lotion’s glycerin, we think. I now fly high, but dry!
And remember us being held in that ‘secure area’ of Iceland’s Airport after I passed with flying colors the the ‘random security check’ for which, by lucky draw, I’d been selected?
We weren’t alone; nearly three dozen other bewildered passengers bound for the U.S. were not ‘allowed to mingle’ until the plane boarded.
With both those experiences fresh in mind, I was a bit hesitant to apply for the U. S. Customs and Border Protection’s Global Entry Program, for international traveler; the one that, in turn, qualifies participants for the T.S.A.’s PreCheck, domestic trusted travelers program.
‘Trusted Traveler’ programs
Global Entry is a program that requires completion of an extensive on-line application and payment of $100 application fee. If, following a background check, conditional approval is given, then an in-person interview at a local CBP office is conducted. Fingerprints are taken and processed and photos taken during that interview.
If approved, you use a kiosk when re-entering the United States, rather than waiting in those long lines to get the passport stamped and go through Customs inspection.
PreCheck allows approved passengers, whose backgrounds have been checked, or those in Global Entry, to use check-in security lanes that no longer require removing shoes, belts or jackets and allows leaving laptops and liquids in the bags. Instead of the controversial x-ray machine, travelers walk through a metal detector (like the early days of security).
Pre-Check is being introduced by a select number of airlines, including Alaska Air, the one we regularly fly. A select number of airports are participating in this early stages of the program and many more are slated to participate.
Our story
We completed the application form in early March, paid our fee and waited. By the end of March we’d received notice of ‘conditional approval’ and set up in-person interviews with CBP officials. In our case, the closest office was at SeaTac Airport.
In early April we were interviewed; each asked a series of questions, were finger-printed and had photos taken that would appear on an identification card we’d be issued if approved.
The finger prints were apparently ‘run’ while we were there as approval was given to each of us before the meeting was over. We were taught how to use the kiosk. Our ID cards arrived two weeks later.
Does it work?
We used the Global Entry kiosk at San Francisco’s airport when we returned from Mexico. It was a snap – no lines, no wait time. In and done.
We’ll experience PreCheck at SeaTac next week when we head to Phoenix. For the first time in many years I am looking forward to check-in.
A Note to Naysayers
There’s been a lot of critical comments added at the end of on-line media articles about this program. Critics call it a program for the ‘elite’ who can pay for a speedy security experience. The cost, was $100, good for five years. That’s $20 a year. If you can afford to buy the ticket and other trip costs you likely can shell out an additional $20 a year for ease of check-in.
Some claimed the streamlined check in security isn’t thorough enough. I can tell you that based on the questionnaire and interviews, our government knows far more about Joel and me now than they did when simply examining our bare feet in the airport x-ray machine.
The program guidelines also make it clear: random security checks will be done in this new speedy program just as is done in all check in lines.
Sigh. We know my luck in being drawn for those random selections. . .
Note: I’ve included links above that take you to the Global Entry and TSA PreCheck sites if you want to know more about either of these programs. Are you already participating? Leave a comment and let us know how it is working.
Showing posts with label Iceland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iceland. Show all posts
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Monday, June 20, 2011
No Mingling in Iceland!
Or Sub-title: “Why Me?”
Yes, even on the best of trips, the kind that ‘don’t get any better’ something can happen to take that perky “Miss PR” smile off my face.
This time it happened in Iceland.
When you fly Iceland Air to Seattle from Europe, as we have twice done, you stop in Iceland. (BTW, Iceland’s a good airline – and it had the best one-way fare price that we could find from Europe.)
Last year's stop was unremarkable. This year's won't soon be forgotten.
I can finally write about it now, nearly a month later, because I've quit chanting, “I never want to go back.” and I am beginning to see the keystone cop humor of the experience.
It all began . . .
When going through Passport Control from one plane's gate to the other, an attractive 30-something blond in a form-fitting uniform flashed a big smile at me and said, as if I had won a prize, “You’ve been selected for additional security screening!”
So I flashed a big smile back (similar to the one at the left) and said to myself, “My lucky day!”
We followed her down the escalator to a cordoned off holding area where I and a handful of others would be checked. (Joel was allowed to come in.)
From armpits to arches, breasts to buttocks I was rubbed, patted and 'wanded'. Guess I was ‘dusted’ too because I had to sit and wait for something they got off me to be tested.
“You may go,” announced another form-fitting uniform with a bright smile.
We started to leave. . .
“Oh no,” said another, with a little less smile, “you are not free to go, you must follow me.” When we asked why, still smiling, she said, “You are not allowed to mingle with the other passengers.”
(Okay, did I miss something or had I just gotten off a flight on Iceland Air from Paris, where security had deemed me safe? Joel, by the way, could have mingled but, being the good guy he is, stuck by his outcast wife).
We were taken to another secure holding area where we joined (I counted) 20 others. Most of whom looked like us: middle-aged, Anglo-Saxons heading to the US. It was here we would wait until another uniform came to lead us to the flight – we wouldn’t be allowed to leave until they came to get us:
No restroom run.
No souvenir shops.
No food purchase.
No Mingling!
Our detention. . .
. . .livened a bit when an older lady began sobbing and moaning – bringing a swarm of uniforms to quickly lead her out of the area.
When the couple across from us, again politely asked why we were being held, the smiling uniform said it was the United States who made them do it. Her explanation tapered off, she shook her head and looked at the floor.
Finally another uniform arrived and called out for those heading to Seattle. A young woman and the two of us were led through the swarm of passengers at our gate and told to sit in yet another secure area between the crowd of our soon-to-be-fellow passengers and the plane.
I was relieved to see the sobbing lady now calmly sitting with her traveling companion. The five of us boarded the plane before the other passengers were allowed to approach it.
I wanted to believe this 'early boarding' was an attempt to make us feel special. . .but I suspect it was to keep us from mingling for five minutes longer.
Yes, even on the best of trips, the kind that ‘don’t get any better’ something can happen to take that perky “Miss PR” smile off my face.
This time it happened in Iceland.
When you fly Iceland Air to Seattle from Europe, as we have twice done, you stop in Iceland. (BTW, Iceland’s a good airline – and it had the best one-way fare price that we could find from Europe.)
Last year's stop was unremarkable. This year's won't soon be forgotten.
I can finally write about it now, nearly a month later, because I've quit chanting, “I never want to go back.” and I am beginning to see the keystone cop humor of the experience.
It all began . . .
When going through Passport Control from one plane's gate to the other, an attractive 30-something blond in a form-fitting uniform flashed a big smile at me and said, as if I had won a prize, “You’ve been selected for additional security screening!”
So I flashed a big smile back (similar to the one at the left) and said to myself, “My lucky day!”
We followed her down the escalator to a cordoned off holding area where I and a handful of others would be checked. (Joel was allowed to come in.)
From armpits to arches, breasts to buttocks I was rubbed, patted and 'wanded'. Guess I was ‘dusted’ too because I had to sit and wait for something they got off me to be tested.
“You may go,” announced another form-fitting uniform with a bright smile.
We started to leave. . .
“Oh no,” said another, with a little less smile, “you are not free to go, you must follow me.” When we asked why, still smiling, she said, “You are not allowed to mingle with the other passengers.”
(Okay, did I miss something or had I just gotten off a flight on Iceland Air from Paris, where security had deemed me safe? Joel, by the way, could have mingled but, being the good guy he is, stuck by his outcast wife).
We were taken to another secure holding area where we joined (I counted) 20 others. Most of whom looked like us: middle-aged, Anglo-Saxons heading to the US. It was here we would wait until another uniform came to lead us to the flight – we wouldn’t be allowed to leave until they came to get us:
No restroom run.
No souvenir shops.
No food purchase.
No Mingling!
Our detention. . .
. . .livened a bit when an older lady began sobbing and moaning – bringing a swarm of uniforms to quickly lead her out of the area.
When the couple across from us, again politely asked why we were being held, the smiling uniform said it was the United States who made them do it. Her explanation tapered off, she shook her head and looked at the floor.
Finally another uniform arrived and called out for those heading to Seattle. A young woman and the two of us were led through the swarm of passengers at our gate and told to sit in yet another secure area between the crowd of our soon-to-be-fellow passengers and the plane.
I was relieved to see the sobbing lady now calmly sitting with her traveling companion. The five of us boarded the plane before the other passengers were allowed to approach it.
I wanted to believe this 'early boarding' was an attempt to make us feel special. . .but I suspect it was to keep us from mingling for five minutes longer.
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