Getting to grips with expat life takes a certain temperament ?and plenty of mime skills

The acne scars along the security guard's jaw line was a telltale sign of his youth. We shuffled in single file, passing through the metal detector one by one. The bright green overcoat was two sizes too big for his slender frame, as was the military-issued belt, looped twice around his skinny waist.

He stopped me and pointed at my handbag. I gave it to him and he did the customary once over, but just as I held out my hand to take it back he stopped and reached into the bottom. He pulled out a paper-wrapped tube no more than 8 centimeters long and eyeballed it. The line of mainly male passengers behind me hissed impatiently under their breath at the delay.