First up is passport verification where women in military uniforms stamp your passport and approve your immigration card. Air France had distributed immigration and custom forms on the plane, but these were not the "official" forms as we soon found out.
Actually, most of us had a helpful person who transferred the information to the proper form, and went through without a problem. However, Brad got the sterotypical ex-KGB, hard-ass woman in uniform who starting yelling at him about his information not being on the "official" form. She continued telling Brad, in Russian, what she thought about his form the entire time it took to transfer his information to the new form. Alan followed Brad, and she sternly sent him to the back of the line to transfer his info himself. Funny.
Next, we go look for our luggage -- except it isn't there. Neither is Mike's tuba! Dan's trombone and suit case is all we can find. Well, what do we do now? The only people around are cigarette-smoking, military types who don't speak a word of English, and who look like they really don't want to be there in the first place.
We finally figure out how to get through customs although it took four drafts and two copies of their "official" forms to get it right. Actually, Dan never did find anyone interested in stamping his form. He went from person to person like a lost puppy till one fellow waved him off and told him to go on through.
Then, we find Lost and Found, and as we walk in, someone trying to file a claim is getting screamed at because he didn't have the correct form. We're like ... "Oh Crap, not again!" Luckily, we have the correct forms and she speaks some English and is very helpful in filing our claims.
Mike's expression says it all!
