Leaving TPE

Leaving TPE

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I felt numb. Waking up after less than four hours of sleep, packing (or squeezing) the last few things into my suitcases, taking the taxi to the airport. It felt like it was a dream, and I was an observer watching it all happen. 

The airport was packed, brimming with groups of tourists with their large boxes of goodies and souvenirs. A few calls to relatives and friends to bid them farewell. I had a last meal of sweet potato fries with my cousin who accompanied me to see me off. Big hug, quick visit to another cousin who works at the airport, another big hug before quickening my pace to the boarding gate. The waiting area was empty, as I was the (second?) last person to board. Minutes after I sat down, the cabin door closed. The plane pulled back. I admired the Eva Air planes with their new Star Alliance logos stickered close to the noses. Watching planes, mentally noting the shape of the wingtips and labeling the model  and make of the aircrafts, temporarily quelled my emotions. The start of a 36hour journey (including layover time...).

Another airport, another boarding gate, another airplane waiting to soar into the heavens, waiting to disappear. 

Another packed suitcase, another boarding pass to add to the scrapbook I keep, another journey to another far away city waiting to consume me and make me one of the anonymous many. 

Another forced smile to greet another unfamiliar face, another tear shed.

A wave of sadness swelled up as I watched two ground crew stand next to one another and bow and wave. Goodbye. Farewell. Bon voyage. Thank you for visiting. The land of my birth, the city I know so well, the places that once made me feel so much at home, are now places I feel I am only visiting. 

This trip is coming to an end. An emotional trip it has been, but I cannot explain why. I want to cry, really break out and cry instead of just shed tears. But the time has not come yet.