Letters From Singapore: Chapter 1 — Changi Airport (1/2)
I love being on the road between the place I’m leaving behind and the airport. I love being in a new airport.
How interesting it seems to me to escape from the days that somehow became similar in Ubud. Even if they don’t look like each other because I don’t plan them, it’s still a kind of sweet and pleasant habit. Extremely pleasant.
But what I noticed (or remembered) is that I love being on the road, in the car, between the place I’m leaving behind and the airport.
Between the airport and the plane. Between clouds, sky and earth or ocean. I love being in a new airport.
Today I am at Changi Airport in Singapore, for the second time.
I first landed on October 11th but then I had a race against time to the connecting flight to Bali.
But now I have time.
I easily passed the verification process: I filled out an Arrival Card & Health Declaration, showed my passport and stated the reason for my visit — personal writing project.
Then, I looked for a suitable place from where I could observe the life of the travelers. Both theirs and mine. I have several long hours to look, feel, listen better if I put my headphones away.
Although, this remains between us, I originally wanted to go to Starbucks — I was hoping to get their attention (to remind them of that email) with my nice stories (and quite a lot today). But Starbucks was closed when I arrived.
I’m at the O’coffee Club sitting at a high table overlooking the boarding gates.
I’m here after such a different breakfast than the last two months — I’ve had bread (with all the gluten in the world) and butter (with lactose) and jam. We won’t go into detail about how my body received this little treat. Then I had some tea.
And finally, I gave in to the craving for a drug that my body doesn’t necessarily need. I surrendered, because I allowed myself to do so, to the delicious smell of coffee.
But my heart is still at peace. Instead, it’s my hands that are typing at a slightly unusual speed.
However, what has been bothering me since I’ve been sitting down — for several hours now — is a nagging need to take off my sneakers. I took off my shoes on the plane, but here it doesn’t seem appropriate to do so. For now — we’ll see what I think later.
I take a few deep breaths and start watching people move.
Now I have time to absorb the energy of those looking for their boarding gates. Some push trolleys with luggage, others carry trollers behind them, others only have a backpack.
I have time to admire travelers passing through this airport on their way to places that calls them.
I have time to see the people sitting down at the cafe where I sit. Couples, families, solo travelers, groups of friends, children.
I have time to see the soldiers and/or policemen, some in green uniforms, some in blue uniforms, patrolling with guns in their hands. The image of them makes my body automatically straighten and stay in a state of alertness.
I have time to observe, in passing, the hustle and bustle of the cafe’s employees.
And I have time to notice myself, here in an airport in Southeast Asia.
I became a writer. A writer of my own life story, first and foremost.
Secondly, I am a writer of letters in which I tell about what life shows me.
The child inside me is excited to embrace and receive this word — writer. Is it too much? Am I worthy of this label?
I do not know. What I do know is that I have tears in my eyes, realizing this moment.
Me, at a coffee shop in Singapore’s Changi Airport in Asia, absorbing the energy around me, receiving inspiration and putting words down with emotion into a new letter.
And what’s a little scary, I have a feeling of deja vu. Like I’ve experienced this before.
To be continued…
Attraversiamo together towards Ananda from Changi Airport,
S.
Letters between Bali and Singapore
Thursday, 08.12.2022
Sweet notes:
Second part of the feelings (more heavy and bitter) I had in the Changi airport:
If you want to support my big dream of writing Letters from Bali (link below), I will be truly grateful and I will add your name in the book on the list of dreamers that believed in and with me:
Financial support: https://revolut.me/simonagoqw
A virtual coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/simona13
Or you can give me a tip — below these last lines of the article ;)
Thank you so much & keep dreaming.