On the student trips to Europe that I ran, I required each student to have some sort of a passport holder. Each student carried their own passport, and it was very important that they didn’t lose it. A lost passport would mean at least a day away from the tour spent in the American Embassy. Plus the student would have to pay whatever replacement fees applied. If they lost it on the day of travel, they would have to pay for a chaperone (me) to accompany them on a later flight home. Because of the inconvenience and cost, I am always very diligent about passports.
There are several styles of passport holders that are popular. One is worn diagonally across the chest under the shirt. Personally I like this kind. It is hidden and out of sight. Although it can be a little bulky, it is not that bad. Another style gets clipped to the waist of the pants, on the inside front of the person. The thought is that you should know if someone is grabbing for it there. The holders come in various materials and colors too, but the important thing is to have one.
Every time we leave a city or hotel, I require the kids to ‘touch your passport’. This is to make sure they have it with them. One day we were in Paris, riding the Metro back to the hotel. I was sitting next to one of my sons and several of the boys from our trip were standing, holding on to the strap on the ceiling. There was a group of local teens on the train and everyone was conversing and having a great time. One of our students, “Bob”, was standing next to me, deeply immersed in conversation with the French teens. I noticed that he had on these baggy shorts with side pockets. The opening to the pockets was stretched out in the shape of an oval. I could actually see his wallet inside his pocket from where I was sitting. I decided to pickpocket him to teach him a lesson.
As I reached across my son’s lap to get to Bob’s pocket, my son asked me what on earth I was doing. When I told him, he said he might as well do it since he was closer. This whole time Bob was chatting it up, flirting with the girls and trying to impress the boys. My son reached over a few times before actually going in for the kill. We were surprised when he came out with Bob’s passport instead of his wallet. Better yet, I thought…
Not-a-one of the group saw any of this going on. And might I add that my son was not all that inconspicuous. In any case, I put his passport in with mine. When we exited the train, as expected, I said to everyone, “Touch your passport.” I made sure Bob heard me and watched him quickly tap his pants. We made our way back to the hotel and we had about ½ hour before dinner. Everyone went to their rooms to rest and freshen up. I went up to my room and about 5 minutes later I heard a knock on my door. It was Bob.
“Mrs. Haines, I think I lost my passport,” Bob said with a slight panic in his voice.
“C’mon Bob, you know not to fool around about that,” I replied.
“No really, I had it in my pocket and now it’s gone,” he added.
“Your pocket? What do you mean? Why wasn’t it in your passport holder?” I was playing the part so well. “Listen, go look in your suitcase. Maybe you left it in your room.”
“I already tore my suitcase apart. My clothes are all over the room. It is not there,” Bob continued in a slightly whiny voice.
I let a few moments of silence go by. “You know what I think happened? I think you got pickpocketed on the Metro. You were so busy chatting with the French kids and it was such a crowded train, I bet you were set up and someone pickpocketed you!”
There was panic in his face because he knew that could very well have happened. I continued,” Didn’t you touch your wallet when you got off the train?”
“I kind of felt my pocket but I guess I was feeling my wallet and not my passport,” he said softly.
“Bob, I really think someone pickpocketed you on the train,” I sighed heavily. “You know why I think that so strongly? Because Jonathan is the one who pickpocketed you and you made it so easy.”
There was a long blank stare on his face. I slowly produced his passport from my pocket. There was such a rush of relief that flowed through his veins, apparent from his expression. He remained speechless as I gave him my little speech. He was so grateful to have that passport back that he didn’t even seem to mind it. Then off he went to share his good news with the others.
Ten minutes later there was another knock on my door. It was Bob again. “Mrs. Haines, I just wanted to thank you. I realized it could have been a real pickpocketing and I got off easy. Thank you for the lesson.”
It is always so rewarding as a teacher when you teach a lesson and the student actually appreciates learning it. The next morning as everyone was checking out of the hotel and boarding the bus, Bob came up to me and proudly showed me his passport holder under his shirt. I didn’t have to worry about Bob’s nonchalance with his documents any more on that trip.
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