Loving Airports

It is a place where I get to meet a lot of people, make friends, discover stuffs, buy some cute souvenirs and sometimes get treated to a sumptuous meal or simply get a taste of some of the local foodies.

I could still remember that day, when I was travelling back from a foreign assignment. I was on my typical long haul trip garb (translate: jeans, sweat shirt, snickers and back pack). There was this lady all dressed up, very classy and a respectable woman indeed. She approached me and asked if the seat beside me was available. I politely replied yes. When seated already, she started asking me questions about my trip and also shared some of her stories. In several instances, we have become so animated that I tried to picture out how odd the pair of us looked for a third person. But who cares, we had fun that time and I learned a lot from my Japanese lady friend.

There was also an instance, while waiting for the last flight out, I got to strike a conversation with a lady also waiting for her flight out but with a different carrier. I played a guessing game with her, speculating on her profession. I did not hit the target but then I was within the range I was. She’s a writer, I guessed a journalist. But that was not important, what I found out within the next 15 minutes is. She was experiencing a mid-life crisis and she was embarking on that trip trying to end the same. She shared that she left her family and came home to her parents to find herself. There was no major issue between the husband and kids and her. She was feeling rotten on her own. After leaving her family for more than three months, she was able to regain enough strength to finally face her family. Unfortunately, my conversation with her was cut short when boarding on our plane was announced. Lesson learned: it’s okay to stumble as long as you got up from that mess.

In one of the shorter trips I had, I met a researcher for one of the well-known search engine. She was a seat mate in the plane. We were not speaking with each other initially but when the plane encountered an engine trouble prior take off, we kind of hit it off. For more than 8 hours of wait, we covered a lot of topics. There is one information though that stuck in my mind. It was that hidden laboratory underneath a mountain that she visited either in Africa or in South America. It was actually a storage center for all the varieties of rice seedlings around the world. She shared that it was funded by an international organization and the goal is to have a copy of each variety for future use or development projects. I was in awe at that time, as I would only think of such facilities in a movie. Well, it simply means that food is indeed a priority of ours.

Another reason I love airports is the wide array of choices they have on giveaways. Being a Filipino, it is but natural to bring home some gifts to closest family and friends from places I visited. But whenever the travel is business, there is difficulty in finding time for local shopping. Airport stores bring convenience to business travelers.

I find respite on transit airports when it comes to food. Airline meals are not that reliable. Thus, I usually look forward to transit airports when in a long haul. I find joy discovering that restaurants in a busy airport could serve a delicious meal or even just a heartwarming soup. My tip is to befriend that receptionist in the information booth. She can give you directions as well as options.

Besides meals, there are also snackables available for filler or even as take home gifts. It has been my habit to try some chips or local delicacies whenever in airport. Oftentimes, I am satisfied with whatever I spent on them. My palate got introduced to some new tastes and I got to discover some really, really good and healthy food.

But what really made me love airports is that they bring me that joy of being able to travel, get to know places and faces, and a chance to explore the world.

Agreeing to Disagree

He’s my arch-enemy.

All that I can remember was our constant bickering. I can not recall a day that we did not disagree. We quarreled about chores, time spent with Mamang, toys, food, TV shows and even those things as plates, papers, pens. Almost everything! We had this non-verbalized agreement to disagree with each other.

We constantly clashed that I could not remember an instance where we had the same views or had taken the same side. There was no love, respect or just even care between us. Neither competition existed between us.

Because of school and work, we had been separated from each other. Distance, however, was not successful in bringing us a better bond. Whenever we saw each other during vacations, we differed still on lots of things. Maturity tried to settle in. Some improvement was felt; in the manner of how we clashed, how we addressed each other and how we tried to settle differences. We even started giving gifts (Normal for others, not between us though).

While it seemed like we were on a good start, an unfortunate event happened. He left. Our separation had become permanent. I did not feel anything initially; I just took his leaving as any natural circumstance. But as years go by, I would often wonder what would have become between us if he’s around. I slowly realized those things that I’m missing because he left.

Oh, how I miss him. I miss my brother. And I do regret for not making enough effort to bond more with him.

Happiness from Within

I received my RD subscription today. Guess what? Front page features a Bhutanese boy with a radiant smile. Coincidence? I don’t know. But the kid in the train and that little kingdom up there in the mountains had been haunting me for quite a while already.

I got curious with Bhutan a year after meeting my little friend in the train. I was feeling so down about something at work that I tried to look for some inspiration. He came to mind of course. So I researched on his native land. I found that the kingdom is referred to as the ‘Last Shang-rila’, I’m not really sure what it meant at that time but it sounded cool. So I kept on reading stuffs about this Buddhist Himalayan country.

The information that really caught my attention, besides those beautiful places, the culture and unique customs of the country, is that Bhutanese prefer gross national happiness over gross national product. Now, that is one characteristic of a nation that’s really hard to understand given that ours is a highly materialistic world. It is often that people equate happiness with material prosperity, right?

But then, happiness is subjective.

I hope that one day I could visit Bhutan. Not just to see the Tiger’s Nest, a beautiful monastery, in person but also experience more of Bhutan’s unique brand of happiness- that which radiates from within.

A Warm Smile in the Train

While trying to sleep on the bus the other day while on my way home, my mind kept on wandering back to that monorail ride. I could still see the warm smile that little kid had in him. His bright eyes radiated happiness and it was hard for us not to smile back.

Tired from a day of walking around, haggling for a bargain and sweating ourselves while finding our way around that vast weekend market, that smile was a refreshing welcome inside the train. His mother, carrying him with difficulty, had the same warm smile for us too. I was puzzled, I would often see mother’s struggling with their kids in a train or anywhere else lose their poise. And there was that lady, alone with her kid, looking very serene and composed.

Sensing their friendliness, it became natural that we engaged in a small talk. We learned from her, that like us they were also visitors of the metro. Unlike us though, who went for vacation, they were there for medication. The little kid had a tumor in his brain and he was only 3 years old. The kiddo had been on medication for seven months and had undergone chemotherapy sessions already. I wonder how that little body of his endured the treatment. But more than that, my surprise really was more on those smiles he shared with us. I would always find it difficult to smile more so maintain it whenever I feel some discomfort. I would likely blabber around complaining.

And there was that little kid and his mom, suffering physically, mentally, emotionally, yet they still have that sunny smile in them to share. Must be happiness inside, as it would be hard to radiate what one doesn’t have.

Unfortunately, our chit chat was cut short when the train approached the hospital stop. Our little friend had to get off. We bade our good byes to them, and they to us. I whispered my little prayer, with high hopes that Buddha will grant his family’s prayer.

It’s almost six years since we met our little Bhutanese friend in the train. His radiant smile touched me, I am positive that he survived to touch more lives.