Having lived as an expatriate for most of my life, I became familiar with airports at a very early age. I should say, I became aware of farewells and departures at an early age. As children, we learn to take things in stride, and you would think that after all these years of experience, one would finally be accustomed to the process. Well, you would be wrong.
Returning from my recent vacation at my parents’, a funny old feeling revisited me. You probably know the one – when you willingly get on a plane knowing full well you want to reach your destination, but wondering why you have to leave in order to do so. As I waited for my ride at the airport, I wondered how I could feel so sad to leave a life that made me so unhappy and unfulfilled when I was in it. I believe this is the typical pondering of a typical ‘immigrant’.
We boast a centuries-long history of migration – both voluntary and forced – and yet we have still not cracked this code. Is it life that became so complicated, or are we no longer able to reconcile our dreams with a single place? Did our predecessors open the door to the world of opportunities, or pre-dispose us to the choice such that the completeness of our individual worlds was no longer possible without complications?
Considering we have been doing this for years and years, we have naturally found ways to acclimatize, so I don’t dwell on this much. It just comes to mind when I’m at airports…