Confessions of a Frequent Flyer

I know what it feels like to be completely lost in that limbotic land between terminals. Bags in hand in a country where I don’t speak the language, no less. I know what it feels like to only understand the hand motions of an airport security worker, and to look like a fool when I go through the line that she specifically motioned me to bypass.

I know what it feels like to wander around Frankfurt for three hours with no place to sit, the sound of a gate alarm screeching when I choose to buck the system. I know what it feels like to be caught in a cattle call boarding session.
I know what it feels like to be culturally ignorant, to have no idea what is socially acceptable. I know what it’s like to be at the mercy of another person’s pursuit of a language not their own to help me in mine. I know what it feels like to not know who I can ask, who will understand my question, who will treat me with kindness.

And I know what it feels like to experience grace, to be the recipient of hospitality. I know what it feels like to receive sympathy from those who cannot help me. I know what it feels like, also, to be turned away, to be dealt with harshly, to not be trusted by people of my home country. To be perceived as a foreigner because of the shape of my facial features and my quiet mannerisms.

I also know what shame feels like—to stand again in the country of my childhood and to witness inhospitality. To hear guards question why international visitors continue to go to the incorrect passport check line when they have been speaking exclusively in English and signs are posted in English and Chinese. And we expect incoming French passengers to understand? I know what it feels like to want to yell at a security guard for snapping at a woman rudely. Then to realize that would not solve any of our problems.

And this knowledge makes me want to throw my arms around the world and shout out in every language known to humanity, “Bienvenidas, bienvenue, ah’len wa sah’len, welcome!” You are welcome in my life.