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Returning from a trip to Curaçao last month, I was welcomed on Schiphol by a cordon of royal marechaussee. First it was the royal drug detection dog who snuffled me and the other passengers one by one while we walked through the jet bridge. After recording this violation of my privacy I was kindly requested not to take anymore pictures. Subsequently directly after leaving the airplane we had to form a line to be questioned by one of four marechaussees. Waiting on our turn we were thereby closely observed from a distance by eight other marechaussees. Now and then there was deliberation. Now and then something was noted. After a while from between the waiting a lady was coordinated, she walked along, descended a staircase. At the same time next to the plane, for everybody in line clearly visible, the luggage was from a belt conveyor send through a special vehicle of the marechaussee to be screened. Do you travel alone? Where do you travel from? Aruba, Bonaire? Do you have a travel scheme? No, not that one. Yes, I mean that one. Thank you. You may continue. Then followed a body scan, my hand luggage through a regular scan. Next the standard passport check and finally, after picking my suitcase under surveillance from a band in a with green police tape marked area, the goods to declare section. Five to six suitcases were already lying open on big tables between the travelers and the marechaussee, plastic packaging were closely inspected, clothing searched. I could go on. Welcome home. Welcome to Holland.