About two weeks ago, Haisong Jiang, a graduate student from China studying biosciences at Rutgers, saw his girlfriend off at the Newark Liberty International Airport.
The only problem was that the restricted-access area after security wasn’t very clearly marked. He went too far down the terminal to prolong his goodbye. It was a security breach. TSA freaked out, Terminal C was closed for seven hours, more than a hundred flights were delayed, and poor Haisong Jiang was arrested for trespassing. New Jersey Sen. Frank R. Lautenberg called for his deportation, but now at least the Chinese Consulate is helping handle the situation.
I studied Chinese for two years, including seven months abroad in 2008, so I know firsthand what it can be like to live in a different country where you don’t really understand the culture. UF has a program in which people who are studying a foreign language can partner with students studying abroad here. Half the time is spent helping the other person learn English, and the other half is for you to practice speaking a foreign language to a native.
You learn about school habits, dating codes, parental interaction, etc. I remember this summer I watched “Titanic” with my Chinese-language partner and had to explain why Rose would say, “I’ll be God damned.”
“Shouldn’t it be ‘Damn you?’” he asked.
Language partners are great, but right now I would hate to be Haisong Jiang’s language partner. It would be difficult to explain to him why he was on national news. But I’ve been playing it through in my mind, and here’s my imagined interaction.
“Haisong, Haisong, Haisong,” I would say with a smile. “That sucks. I should have explained before. See, you know how last week we visited a church? Well, that’s not really how we live any more. In America, our god is airport security.”
At first he wouldn’t know if I was joking, but I would continue. “A god is the thing you sacrifice everything else for. And we do that with airport security. You approach the security temple, and out of reverence, you must take off your shoes; You are on holy TSA ground.”
I act it out. “You offer everything you have: keys, change, outer clothing, laptop, toiletries. All of it goes on a belt where it is examined by machines that divide soul and spirit, joint and marrow. It is practically able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. The TSA priests are never happy with you, but airport security is a very strict god. Some people are regular worshippers; others only come on holidays. If the TSA god has any doubt, you must show your devotion. Raise your hands and another machine will see if you are sincere.”
Haisong is interested. “So you see, Haisong,” I say, “by crossing the roped-off area, you ignored everything we love: airport security. If you want to live here, you have to worship our god. Come to him with peace, good thoughts, and not too many liquids,” We smile. “And he will let you in, too.”
“Ming bai le,” says Haisong. “I get it.” And I think he does. At the very least, when he gets out of jail, he’ll be able to explain to all of his Chinese friends about America’s new religion.
Will Penman is an English senior.
