Lost in Transference
Posted: 23/11/2024
I'm sitting in the Auckland airport departures lounge as I'm writing this, waiting for a 15h 30m flight to New York-JFK airport. It seems like a good moment to have a reflection.
Airports aren't particularly friendly places. They have a particularly impersonal air about them, filled with uninspiring patterns of internationalistic architecture. You are constantly reminded of the need to be a consumer, as people shuffle around screens being played on repeat and display cases full of marked-up luxury goods and kitsch manufactured artisanal goods which are meant to reflect New Zealand's uniqueness overseas. It's back a constant state of rush and languish - an impending dread that I, too, have to climb into a metal tube to be shuttled over a sea at thirty-two thousand (or whatever) kilometres above the surface, falling towards the ground and missing at a velocity of however-much-it-is-I-won't-pretend-to-know.
There is nothing in a departures terminal that a person can really do to express themselves. Oh sure you can find enormous chess sets (I think there is one at the Brisbane international departures lounge having been there so often) or games played on interactive screens with poppy or pastel colours. But it's all contained. Really it feels like some sort of prison. There's nowhere to go but to another part of the terminal. And it's the same on the plane, but with less comfort (although the in-flight entertainment is sure to work better than the movie I am trying to, uh, "stream" on my laptop). At the very least, there is a sense of purpose: you are going from A to B. But before that, when you're still at A, you are stuck in a state of both too much and too little time to do anything worthwhile.
I suppose it is different, though, when you're travelling alone. It's not my first time flying by myself but it is the first trip that I have really done without my parents being on my heels. Actually, travelling separately from my parents is rather liberating, and I don't feel as self conscious talking to new people. Actually, on the flight to Auckland I met a very nice French lady who lives in Tokyo with a Japanese husband - and I am kicking myself for not leaving any contact details since a friend in Tokyo would be nice if I ever choose to visit the place (and besides, they seemed very approchable and knowledgable people). But back to topic; travelling with others is a bit of a security net. It is more to keep track of, I suppose, but it's always great to know that you are travelling with someone that you can rely on, who can watch your back (or your luggage), to pass the time if you're stuck during a transfer in a stupid airport terminal.
Or maybe I just miss my friends and family already. I don't think I realise it, but it probably affects me more than I show.
Thirty minutes before boarding...