Airports. Such strange, strange things. They’re a no-man’s-land, an independent territory, really. People from all around the world congregate, and coexist in this shared space until their flights take them elsewhere.
I am able to catch small bits of different languages as I watch people pass by. I try to imagine who they are and what they are doing, making up crazy itineraries and entire life stories for them, these musings drifting through my mind just as quickly as they leave my line of sight.
As a friend once pointed out, airports are a place where anything goes. There is no dress code, and social constructs fly in the wind. It’s perfectly acceptable to sprint through the terminals, sleep in uncomfortable chairs, or take a sink bath in the restroom. The friendly person who shares an electric outlet with you becomes your new best friend and swapping travel stories is a must.
The little old man I sat by on my last flight told me about his friendships with several of Drury University’s past presidents and his trip to India he took back in the ‘70s. It’s a small world if you take the time to realize it.
I think I have a love/hate relationship with airports. On one hand, it’s a great way to unwind before beginning your travels at your destination, but on the flip side, they’re stressful, loud, and full of germs! All in all, layovers are what you make of them.
Currently, I’m waiting in Denver, Colorado for a connecting flight to Frankfurt, Germany. In a little less than two days, I’ll finally arrive in Dharamsala, India! I’ll definitely have my fill of airports by then.
But until then, I’ll keep enjoying my down time!