I could barely sit still when the plane landed and moved to dock. Gathering all my carry-ons, I made my way behind other tired passengers to exit the plane. Gone was the memory of a 12-hour flight with screaming children, slobbering, snoring seat mates and a line to the front to the bathroom. I was in Ireland; now my adventure was to begin.
I could barely contain myself as I waited for customs to go through and scan my luggage; straining my neck, I could see slivers of blue sky out the windows. My friends were out there somewhere to take me on my new adventure in life! Working my way out of customs, I waited patiently in the departing crowd for someone to recognize me in the group. Just when I began to get worried - there they were.
After brief greetings, hugs and offers to help me with my luggage, I was asked if that was all that I had brought with me. Laughing, I went to the freight desk and after giving my custom and shipping information, waited for the assistant to tell me where my real luggage was. Before leaving the States, I had packed up my things, had them crated by a moving company and shipped them to Ireland. After several long moments, which I filled by catching up with my friends, the assistant came back to the counter and told us where on the airport grounds we would have to go to pick up my things.
Proceeding to the freight company office, it never occurred to me that I would find anything other than those 32 taped boxes that had taken me a month to pack and repack. I wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted me in the corner of the warehouse. I wasn't prepared for the little speech, although apologetic and obviously practiced, from the moving company's representative. The only words I caught were "customs... have the right to... endangerment to... country/environment." The thing that burned brightly into my mind was the disarray of the boxes, of which seven or eight had been ripped open and pieced together with tape marked "Customs" in blue and white. I went first to my computer; the screen was damaged, and my hard drive was out of its box, later proving to have been handled and dropped.
What really tore at my heart was the condition of the other boxes, now only a third or half full. My books. I looked to the representative, who started to repeat his speech. My collection was gone - all of my Wiccan, magick and religious research books were gone. Only the books on physics, genetics, writing and history remained. I was in shock and just stood there gaping while my friends worked out the delivery details with the agent.
I remember thinking - how will I ever replace them? Most of the books were dear, for they held notes of my experiences and thoughts as I was coming into the Craft, beginning to understand my self. Where would I go here to find any of them? Bookstores left much to be desired in the metaphysical sections - there weren't any. And besides, I thought, some of the books I had were out of print - I didn't even have a list! It was then that I turned to the agent to see if I could get them back, at least to send them back to the States, but he informed me that all confiscated items were either auctioned off, or if contraband, destroyed.
I later learned, after talking to several immigration and customs officials, that some of the items seized were seized incorrectly or on the personal judgment of the officer. I didn't have any papers on who did the search, having only the moving paperwork and my own general customs listings of the items in my boxes. The shipment had arrived in Cork and then was transported to the airport, and during that transport or at the arrival the items were checked and confiscated.
At first I was angry, after the numbness wore off, and took it out on the agent of the moving company, who was very apologetic in telling me that my insurance didn't cover items seized by customs. The books that I had stuffed in my carrier bag were the only Wiccan books to make it across the sea with me. I remember feeling like I should scream about First Amendment violations, but I wasn't in the United States. I reminded myself that, even though they spoke English here, this was a country far from our ideals and freedoms. I was the foreigner coming to visit and adapt to their way of life, laws and religion. This country was still a place where Christianity was the only primary religion; even though it was a thin sheen over the pagan religion rooted here, in public and civil functions it prevailed with an iron fist.
Ireland is prominent Catholic and Protestant, and although many still greet each other with the goddess Brigit's blessings in their native tongue in public and mixed company, this greeting is only allowed because the Church considers her a Christian saint - politically ignoring her origins. Over the weeks that followed, I learned that a lot was taboo to speak about unless behind closed doors and with trusted friends. I found many who seemed on the verge of and/or practicing their religious roots but were frightened of voicing aloud their doubts about the state's faith. I realized I have been spoiled by living in a country where my faith is tolerated. Ireland is highly superstitious because it has been invaded by saints, Christians and prophets, cloaked with their religion like wolves in sheep's clothing, slaughtering anyone who dared to buck the system and practice the old natural religion. No one, not even I, could find fault in their caution and fear. One only has to look at the battles of today's religions, purifying lands in the name of Christianity in Europe and Asia, to understand their apprehension.
My books are not forgotten. It has been my personal experience that the Goddess works in mysterious ways within our lives to bring good out of every situation - whether learning or giving. Perhaps someone curious about Her is reading my books right now, someone who needed Her guidance. I for one learned a powerful lesson in appreciation of the freedom to practice my own religion openly, and an awe and respect for those in other lands who do not have that opportunity.
We need to remember our blessings while we travel to other countries and areas; often, in our own arrogance, we forget to read though all of the customs, rules and regulations. In your own travels, please be aware of what these might be within the various societies to which you travel; the endangerment might pertain to more than the written word. Blessed be.
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