After several calls to the airport, I was carrying a couple of worryingly brief customs papers that basically said:
NOT SOIL.
NO COMMERCIAL VALUE.
DO NOT EAT.
I cautiously joined the line for the customs desk at the airport, and tried to distract myself with the "customs quiz" that was playing inside a cute little display shaped like a dog.
It informed me that customs officers were allowed to carry weapons ๐
Reaching the front of the line, I flexed my fingers and wondered if I should start with my 40 minute or 60 minute talk on the Hayabusa2 mission.
Of course, the customs officials would doubtless need the big picture, so we should follow this up with the five lecture course I was preparing on 'water in the Universe'.
STAMP.
After a brief check of the box I was carrying, and a shocking lack of request for multi-hour talks, my customs forms were inked and I was shoo'd out.