My passport and I.
Our relationship has massively changed since I’ve moved to the US.
I’m going to tell you how (if you care that is). It also might change the way you see your own passport. Let us think about that for a second.
If you’re European, you’re living in Europe and reading this, I think you’ll agree with me that you RARELY to NEVER use your passport in daily life. Usually you’ll have your card of identity on you as a means of identification. Your passport, however, will only come out on very special occasions that is when you decide to travel longhaul and go far far away. That’s also why my original association when thinking about my passport back in the day was ADVENTURE, TRAVEL, FUN. It was the times I used to flick through my passport to admire all the stamps I had collected from former travels.
Now that I’m living in the States AND on top of it all in a state that is rather strict in terms of alcohol policy, my passport is my new purse staple that goes EVERYWHERE with me. I see it everday and I hold it in my hands almost everyday. Especially when I go out to a dinner, a bar, a liquor store or to a super market that sells wine and beer.
From seeing each other every couple of months or once or twice a year to almost everyday, my red passport is my constant companion now. There is a concept in social psychology saying that the more you are exposed to a certain object or person you’ll tend to like it more than others you are less exposed to. So in short: I like my passport more than ever, because I think it’s a great little piece of design (way cooler than other passports, have you ever checked others out in the lines at the airport?) and it’s never been more useful if I want to get a glass of good red wine.
Why all that drama?
They will not accept a card of identification. Trying to explain to them that it is an equivalent form of identification. Useless. I’ve once even got a comment when showing my ID (naive me, a few years ago) if I was a member of the Red Cross? Ehm, no.
Oh the funny comments I’ve gotten. The classic, ‘ah Sweden is a nice place’ (People, it is even written on the passport you are holding in your hands that the country is called Switzerland. Come on!) or the requirement to show my passport on the evening of my 30th birthday. No, she didn’t think it was funny to tell her that it was my 30th birthday. She basically didn’t CARE.
Long story to say, appreciate your Swiss passport. It’s a special little thing.