In transit

Over the past week I found myself experiencing the real transit inn. No, it isn’t accommodation (inn) that I am talking about. Rather, it’s related to the one place (transit) in every sovereign state and city that connects to other places - places that most of us would probably never have the chance to set foot upon in our life. Through these connections though, somehow a web of linkages that binds all of us together in this globe is formed. It’s like invisible magic weaving through geographical space. We can only imagine, for we can't see its workings.

I became one of the seamless throngs of passengers moving in and out of airports last week. Four airports in a week, and twice I was in transit - in every sense of its real meaning. It’s not the first time I am in such a situation. But this time round, the transit was much longer, and therefore there is plenty of time for my mind to wander. My thoughts drifted like the passengers shuttling through the marble-floored grounds, hurrying from one point to another ceaselessly. Often enough they floated through the copious spaces that are purposefully constructed, ironically. But it wouldn't take long before my mind surrenders to physical exhaustion.

Beijing
Arriving in the morning at Beijing airport Terminal 3 on a red-eye flight, I was informed by the airplane announcement that the temperature outside is negative 5 degrees. I looked out the window and saw nothing that suggested it was freezing cold. I put on my windbreaker, sat back in my seat while nearly everyone was standing and waiting to rush out upon the clearance given to disembark. I always wonder if it's anxiety to beat the crowds, to be ahead of everyone else for immigration clearance, that makes everyone on the plane jump to their feet and collect their luggage the moment they could. Or was it to escape the claustrophobia of a plane ride? We should take things slowly, breathe a little easier and not get on everyone's nerves.

I stepped out of the plane onto the arrow bridge. The drop in temperature was felt immediately, but it wasn't that bad. Further ahead, a small platoon of women in airport uniform stood huddled at the side. Armed with cleaning equipment, they were all ready to spring into action once the last passenger gets out of the plane.

So here I am, finally at Beijing airport, at 7plus am in the morning, en route to another part of China. I looked around and above me, did a 360 degree sweep to take in the surroundings. Apart from Chinese airport officials, nothing could have suggested that this is a backward China of more than a billion people. YH and I proceeded to the immigration counters. We had to claim our luggage, check in again and then find a place to wait - stone - for the new few hours.

Life's Concidences
Coincidences in life never fail to intrigue and fascinate me. To those who believe steadfastly in logic only, a coincidence is nothing more than life's randomness; there is no causal relationship with other factors; it happens because it just happens. Perhaps so, but coincidences have consequences sometimes that alter the course of one's life, whether slightly or significantly, for better or for worse. If nothing happens, at least they leave footprints in our lives and become part of our story, to be told again or remembered.

I was travelling to China for work, and though I did not manage to meet up with YH before this, I had already found out that we were the same age and studied at the same junior college. (YH, a businessman, was invited to go on this trip.) What surprised me was that he, who hasn't seen my picture before we met, asked if I were from the same secondary school or JC when I linked up with him at the boarding gate. Typing away on his laptop, he looked every bit the businessman. And he had robbed me of my chance to surprise him with our connection. Instead, I was caught by surprise that he recognised me. I was possibly the most low-profile person back in school, and we weren't even in the same faculty!

In a way, I was kind of reassured to be travelling with YH. Having a link between us provided much common ground for us to talk. We got along pretty fine during the trip.

Prelude to a tiring week
Back to Beijing airport. We settled for a Chinese fast food restaurant, whose name now eludes me. After breakfast, YH worked on his laptop on a business proposal, while I got frustrated not being able to get internet connection. My eyes were struggling to stay open, and my body was protesting against a lack of rest. I decided to take a stroll around the airport, but it was a short one, for all airports become the same when you travel enough and spend much time in them. People moving endlessly, carrying briefcases or travel bags, wearing coats and jackets; luxury retail shops catering to the rich and super-rich, shops selling local snacks and indigenous products, book stores hawking international bestsellers and business books. After some time, as I recall Pico Iyer saying in his book The Global Soul, everything becomes the same. Finally, I walked back to our temporary abode, placed my wallet and phone by my side, then I rested my head on the table, succumbing to exhaustion. I knew I was in for a tiring week.


I should be in bed at this hour


View from where I sat in the Chinese Fast food restaurant


Walking around the airport


Laptop - the work travel companion