Airport Anthropology

Airports, where I seem to have been spending huge amounts of time, suggest subtle dynamics that highlight some fascinating elements of human nature.

The first branch of my travels taught me how passengers avoid each other as a sign of politeness. Earlier in the week on my LAX-DFW branch of the flight, I chomped down a small burger before hopping on the plane. Across from me were three Asian women, behind me was a guy reading his newspaper. As I squeezed into the table between them, all four of them readjusted their sitting posture, and politely moved away from me. I ordered my single burger across a counter that almost maximized the distance from my hand to the servers. A line cued up behind the drink fountain to maximize the amount of distance from each individual person. As I moved over to the boarding gate, I noticed how all of the chairs were pointed at 150 degree oblique angles from others, and there were clusters of seats. People of similar race (even if strangers) would cluster together; people of similar language; obviously family relations would cluster as far from other clusters as possible. Going to the bathroom, every guy seems to maximize the space from his urinal to the other guy's.

Needless to say, airports are one of the only locations in the world that brings so many strangers together in close proximity. Maybe we're all just avoiding each other cause we know we'll be stuck in a tiny plane cabin. Or perhaps there's an underlying fear of proximity to others, especially those unlike us. What I find most interesting is the importance of maintaining distance and politeness in airports. I'd imagine there's data to support this kind of phenomenon in other contexts (buses, subways, restaurants). What makes people choose one bus seat from another?

The second branch of my flight from DFW to MIA taught me that the expression of love often surpasses these rules of public space. One husband upon landing called (I assume his wife) with a barrage of "sweetie," "honey," and "I can't wait to get back to our bed." Quite loudly. Another couple sitting next to me were leaning over each other and speaking in a boisterous Texan drawl (the two are not always linked, mind you), complaining about each other but obviously in an endearing way. As we wait to board, a father is mock-wrestling with his son ignoring the fact that he's bumping into other passengers. These and other examples highlighted how levels of rules are stratified: social rules are ignored when other more important ones arise.

Arriving in Belize, I realized that waiting, I believe, is distinct from patience. Patience is a characteristic; waiting is an activity, and for many in the airport, an oxymoron: an activity that requires passivity. I beg to differ.

The frustrations linked with waiting (for a delayed plane... for baggage that doesn't arrive... for friends who are coming in later flights--incidentally, Chrissy waited from 11am to 6pm for the rest of the Belize team to arrive) often arise from uncertainty. One lady who had also lost a parcel on the way to Belize said she just wanted to know exactly where and when it would arrive, so she knew how long to wait. I must admit my own patience was severely tested when my bags were lost both on the way to Belize and the way back to LA. With a given timespan, other tasks can be allocated to that time. With uncertainty, however, that time more often than not just goes into anxious thumb twiddling and increased blood pressure.

I realized that waiting can be seen as an art form. By accepting the uncertainties and embracing the times "between the margins" of your next (possibly to-be-canceled) event, I find myself able to enjoy quirky conversations, bits of a book, and observing other passengers. One can be a graceful waiter. One traveler who was delayed pulled out a book, borrowed a cot and pillow from the airport, and just hummed away happily. Verily, I sense that the best waiters in the world are found in airports, not restaurants.

Oh, I'd write more, but I find myself just blabbering :).