I have become a traveller. I invariably journey alone... in fact, I do not remember the last time I flew with a friend or family member. I like the solitude.
A lot of the time, my life feels like it's in transit. Nothing is either one way or another. This is reflected in almost every aspect of myself: I am the offspring of two quite opposing cultures, but I identify with neither one completely. This is why I constantly need to be on the move. I can't stay long enough to soak up a culture. I need to be in-between.
My favourite part of the journey is the ride to the airport. This time, I am aboard an underground train. It will take me slightly more than an hour to reach what is considered the busiest airport in the world. I have taken this train many, many times before. To me, it is the in-between of my two homes. One represents sun, money and family; the other represents freedom, knowledge and cold. I love both dearly, but I cannot live in one without the other for too long.
I get on the train at the very centre of the city. The carriage is over-packed, but my first instinct is to immediately check who else seems to be going to the same place as me. There are businesswomen in suits, listening to their music; big, burly men dressed casually like they are on a lazy day out; students, on the way home from lectures, exhausted... and tourists, travelling in packs, always loud, always excited. As the first half hour passes, the crowd slowly trickles out. This usually happens by the time the train moves from being underground to overground. There is now enough space for me to sit down.
At this point in my journey, I always reflect on the other times I had taken it. I compare who I am today to who I was then. I go through some memories, remember how I felt, who I was thinking about, what I was looking forward to. I realise that every single time the answers to those questions would be different. And I am sure the pattern will continue. That is almost certain; who I am today will not be who I am tomorrow, or next month, or next year. I would like to say that it is just the surface that changes, but I fear that is not true. Sometimes, I know that my very core, my innermost beliefs have changed dramatically.
I observe the people around me. An old man near me has “PEK” written on his backpack... the handsome blonde one opposite doesn't seem to have much baggage, I wonder where he is going... a middle eastern young couple, students, stand close by. I always imagine these people on their planes, going off to their various locations, living their lives. For now, this temporary amount of time, our lives are interconnected and we will all come together at a point where we all disperse again. It seems like a beautiful idea. Life is so surreal in moments like these.
We eventually reach our destination. Here, it is all about wide spaces. Following rules, following directions. It's a miniature version of life outside, but at the same time, it's nothing like what goes on outside. This is its own world. Time, too, has an abnormal quality to it here. Everything seems to be swimming by in slow motion, yet the clock looks like it's racing.
I go through the motions that I've done so many times before. I'm in transit, again. In between. When it's time to board, I move to my little seat, look out my little window. I will be up in the air soon. And oh, there are things to look forward to. But for now, I don't mind being at a point where I am neither here, nor there. For this temporary amount of time, nothing from either worlds can get to me- no problems, no news, no people. I am unreachable.
