Domestic Airport: A Dreadful Place

The domestic airport in the third of my worlds is a dreadful place indeed, a place of constant chaos. There are clumps, clots and dribbles of people everywhere milling and moving in all directions and constantly reforming. One clump may seem to be moving in a particular direction when without warning one or more people in the group stop to talk or rearrange things or they stop for no observable reason. The rest of the group wanders on and then like slow motion elastic eventually returns and reforms the clot around the stoppees. Meanwhile others who were trying to move behind or beside them have to stop or swerve and seek a new opening in the crowd. As soon as a new opening appears, like as not a child will suddenly pop into the opening from a stopped clot bringing those trying to get by to another halt as they try to calculate the child’s likely speed and direction. Perhaps someone from the child’s clump will pull him or her back into the clump. So if the way should open up again, you must move immediately. If you don’t, another group or clot will surely jump into the opening ahead of you and you will have to swerve, stop, or back up again.

The security check is similar to others except that they are short of plastic trays. So you had best repack all your coins, cell phones, documents, jackets, watches, and loose children into your bags so that things don’t get lost in the x-ray machine. Here you DON’T have to take laptops out of their cases.

On the other side, the people who butted ahead of you to rush through the security are frustrated to find that their bags inside the x-ray machine did not jump the queue with them and so they are forced to wait until your bags come out before their bags finally appear.

The waiting room is also a mad house, but there is a sea of plastic seats in rows facing the front which keeps some semblance of order if only that it makes it difficult to mill around much. At the front off to one side is an Our Mother of Perpetual Responsibility statue for those inclined to burn a candle for traveling mercies. At the back is a series of fast food vendors selling healthy foods such as donuts, sweets, and soft drinks. The nice thing is, there is only one kind of coffee and it comes in only one size!

There are three or four gates at the front of the hall and girls are continuously hanging signs above them which have reference to either a flight number or a destination. Newcomers tend to sit in the back and have refreshments. As flights are called and the crowds ease slightly in the seats towards the front, those in the back move forward.

I will say, it is a people-watcher’s delight. Some are dressed for the beach, even though they are not going to the beach. Some are dressed for business. Some are dressed for comfort, others are dressed to kill. One group has just come back from Mecca and are dressed in white Arabic-style robes complete with Yasser Arafat type kaffahs on the men. No need for a book or a TV. The crowds provide plenty of entertainment. (Like the older lady walking with a cane but still wearing clogs...)