I’m sitting in Bahrain International airport, waiting (and
waiting and waiting) to board my flight to Mumbai. I’m not entirely sure why, but I find this
airport rather intimidating and confronting.
Maybe it’s just how out of place I feel (and look) here. I'm writing to try and sort through my responses and to wake up a little bit. It’s a lot to process on a few hours of sleep
snagged on the way from London. Speaking of which, Gulf Air is officially one
of the best airlines I have ever flown with. I’ve been spoiled rotten with delicious food,
strong tea, mango juice, and various other odds and ends. I also passed out on some benches for the first two hours I
was in the airport, and despite the cup of coffee that I bought at the airport-
with absolutely no idea of how to function in the currency in Bahrain, so I
could have bought a fifty dollar latte- I’m hoping to snag another few hours of
sleep on the flight to Mumbai. Luckily I
arrive at 7 pm, so I should be able to go to sleep early tonight and hopefully
avoid too much jet lag.
This airport is such a bizarre collision of sights and (cacophonous) sounds- attendants walking around in yellow vests, shouting for whoever should be on the flight that's about to leave. Right now its "Abu Dhabi?!" I wish I could understand Arabic, which is one of my favourite languages to listen to. I like to try and imitate the beautiful, throaty sounds that we don't have in English. The people here a collection of all different ethnicities, modes of dress, languages. Lots of hijab, burka, sari, flowers and colours, black from head to toe, Saudi white, headdresses and the red-and-white checkered scarves. In fact, I'm probably the weirdo of the whole lot, in my long blue skirt, sweater, scarf, blue eyes and very white skin. The other thing that makes me noteable is that I am alone, unaccompanied by a man or even a few other women. I rarely feel pressure from that aloneness, in fact feeling a strong sense of freedom when I'm travelling alone, but I am struggling with a wistful desire to have a companion on this trip. Maybe it's just that I want someone to step into the foreground, so that I feel as though people are looking at me less. Or maybe I'm looking to bury myself in a conversation so that I can simply ignore the bustle around me. Either way, I suspect these desires are simply me wanting to retreat from the world, instead of embracing it and watching and learning. So I will write and watch, and look for a freedom in being watched back.
Erk, the woman next to me has just asked me to watch her bag while she goes to the washroom. I have to pee too, lady! Hopefully she goes and comes back quickly before I get in trouble for watching a total stranger's bag. Oh well, I guess I can always claim ignorance.
And sure enough, I'm not really alone anymore because the woman has returned and struck up a conversation. She is going to Lebanon. We have both been waiting for a long time in this airport.
This airport is such a bizarre collision of sights and (cacophonous) sounds- attendants walking around in yellow vests, shouting for whoever should be on the flight that's about to leave. Right now its "Abu Dhabi?!" I wish I could understand Arabic, which is one of my favourite languages to listen to. I like to try and imitate the beautiful, throaty sounds that we don't have in English. The people here a collection of all different ethnicities, modes of dress, languages. Lots of hijab, burka, sari, flowers and colours, black from head to toe, Saudi white, headdresses and the red-and-white checkered scarves. In fact, I'm probably the weirdo of the whole lot, in my long blue skirt, sweater, scarf, blue eyes and very white skin. The other thing that makes me noteable is that I am alone, unaccompanied by a man or even a few other women. I rarely feel pressure from that aloneness, in fact feeling a strong sense of freedom when I'm travelling alone, but I am struggling with a wistful desire to have a companion on this trip. Maybe it's just that I want someone to step into the foreground, so that I feel as though people are looking at me less. Or maybe I'm looking to bury myself in a conversation so that I can simply ignore the bustle around me. Either way, I suspect these desires are simply me wanting to retreat from the world, instead of embracing it and watching and learning. So I will write and watch, and look for a freedom in being watched back.
Erk, the woman next to me has just asked me to watch her bag while she goes to the washroom. I have to pee too, lady! Hopefully she goes and comes back quickly before I get in trouble for watching a total stranger's bag. Oh well, I guess I can always claim ignorance.
And sure enough, I'm not really alone anymore because the woman has returned and struck up a conversation. She is going to Lebanon. We have both been waiting for a long time in this airport.
I’ve had a few emails from various people who read the
article about me and Shivani in the Times of India, and are interested in working with us, which is incredibly exciting and inspiring.
The article is here: Two women look for a story none of us have heard for anyone who wants to take a look. The journalist who wrote this and interviewed us is really lovely!
Arg, I have to use the bathroom so bad, but it's so crowded here that I don't want to get up and then have to hunt for a new seat. Only an hour-ish left until we board! Yay, I've managed to kill almost 5 hours between sleeping, coffee, reading, and now writing this.
Time to take my wellness tonic, some vitamin c, and find the bathroom and then hopefully board in a little bit. The adventure has begun!
1 comment:
Culture is indeed a funny thing! We felt very out-of-place in Tokyo, of all places! We talked out loud to one another about the exhibits and temples, and were certainly on display! I can just imagine you, sitting there in your american clothing, blue eyes, beaming out for the world to see! Well, your eyes represent you well. You are unique! I admire your courage ( and your stamina!). Sleep well!
Post a Comment