International transit areas are designed to drown out noise, and lessen the effect of large crowds, you feel small and insignificant being in one. Filled with commissions from local artists, over-priced eateries, and viewing windows, one can only do so much before all options are exhausted.
Sit around and try to guess everyone’s culture by their clothing, hairstyle, facial features, accent, or make up. Try to cling to some kind of purpose and you find that life has put you in a situation were you have an absence of purpose, all you have is patience and expectation.
I saw some airport employees out in the airplane parking lot and envied them. I envied their camaraderie, their carefree manner, the way that waiting and expectation seemed not to bother them, part because of being in company, but mainly because they had sold away a portion of time in their life to someone or something else. Whatever they were doing, whether it be active, or a matter of killing time, it was on someone else’s time, it was someone else’s responsibility. They didn't really have to worry what was coming next, it had been planned and it didn't cost them anything. Sitting around and waiting was just a matter of course, a matter of obligation, and there was no need to question it.
I took a walk, I strolled the large halls and looked at the city commissioned art. I basked in the freedom of being able to do so, and then I remembered why I was where I was, and I was happy.
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