I have always been nervous going through customs. Every time I walk up to the official I get the odd feeling that someone smuggled a brick of coke into my suitcase when I wasn't looking. During my most recent time abroad this nervousness was even worse, but for a legitimate reason. Right out of college I moved to Singapore to work for a company that runs leadership programs for corporate bigwigs. At one point even the Prime Minister's wife was in a group that I worked with. The problem was that I was working illegally on a tourist visa in a country with one of the strictest justice systems in the world, a place where chewing gum is illegal, you need a license to dance at a party, drug trafficking is an automatic death sentance and they still beat prisoners with a cane for other minor offenses.

"We have to leave. Now!"