Brief anecdote from what promises to be a summer filled with anecdotes.
I had a long layover in Cairo yesterday, and spent some of it wandering the city. Upon arrival back at the airport, I picked up some souvenirs and proceeded to the security line. I tried to ask one security officer if there were containers to put things from my pockets for the scanner, and he said just to take it through the metal detector with me. I did, and the metal detector sounded, and nobody cared.
Then when I went to retrieve my backpack, a different officer asked me if there was money in it. “…..No?” I responded. Then he opened one pocket and asked me again. Then he asked if there was money in my pockets. Long silence followed by an awkward conversation about whether I had “twenty dollars” or “twenty hundred dollars” ended with him pulling a pack of pop tarts out of my bag. “Is this hash?” He asked. “No.” I said flatly. Another long silence. Then he let me through.