Security-Freak-Show and warm welcome

I arrived twice in the USA.

In Philadelphia I had to enter officially. From the plane it went directly into a dark-grey hall with many counters with generally gloomy looking officers. Information signs everywhere: No picture taking! Cell-phones prohibited! Forbidden by sign board too: to treat the men at the counters in an unfriendly manner. No clock in the whole room. I got 1.5 hours for the connecting flight and queuing for ages. Fingerprints, picture, interrogation. “My security officer” was drilling me why I intended to travel to Pittsburgh at this time. Now I would like to know my rights in the same way as I know them when dealing with German police man. The man in front of me wrinkles his face and finally slams an immigration stamp into my passport. Rushing to the next queue. Kept in line by separating tapes hundreds of people are standing in long queues, to get again through the security checks.

Already some challenges were explained to me by an US-Airways-woman in Frankfurt: while in Germany a lighter is not allowed with the check-in luggage, in the USA it is not permitted with the carry-on. In Philadelphia all travelers have to take of their shoes and walked on socks through the sluice. Then rushing to the plane. In front and behind of me nervous and very irritated travelers.

The second arrival is in Pittsburgh. With an express bus I am taken into the city centre. From there a bus takes the direction “hill district”. The bus has no number, at every stop the driver shouts the direction “Webster!”. I am the only white person on the bus. After some minutes an elderly male asks me if I am going to the Monumental Baptist Church. When answering happily if he knows about the demonstration, I am immediately in a conversation with five fellow travelers. One accompanies me for some meters to make sure that I on the right street. In the church’s community rooms it is very busy. A lot of food is being prepared. Busses from many federal states are expected for Sunday. I am immediately employed and get a knife pressed into my hands. Two kilograms of onions onwards Sharon calls into the round that I am holding the record and had travelled the longest distance of them all. I receive an applause and have to shake many hands. But the travel distances of the others are considerable too. There are activists from Boston, Massachusetts, New York, Virginia, Los Angeles.

At 9pm I am crawling into my tent and listen to the industrious hammering and camp construction until I am sleeping.