Airports and Customs

I often feel as if my life has an accompanying soundtrack. Sometimes the music comes from an outside source (radio, CD, concert, etc.), but there is always a song going through my head, whether I am consciously aware of it or not, and usually, that song is particularly pertinent to the situation of the moment. For instance, as I type this, Little Sir is climbing around me, munching on his favorite any-time meal...pb and j on whole grain bread...and the song in my head, that I sometimes hum softly along with the soundtrack, is our homemade jingle:
"Peanut butter and....jeeeelllly (he really likes...)
Jeeellllly (he really likes....) jeeeellly
Little boys like, peanut butter and...jeeelllly....
Peanut butter and jelly...(whakkadoo-whak)"

What does that have to do with airports, you ask? After driving to the airport in a nauseating taxi, listening to its strange combination of techno and Turkish pop, (realizing that I'd truly become acclimated, as this normally would be like banging my head with a rolling pin while simultaneously dragging your nails over a chalkboard,) arriving the required 3 hours before our return flight, going through being questioned by an airport official concerning my trip, checking my luggage, waiting another hour with the relatives (Yeter-Anne, mil, sil, an uncle and 2 kiddies), saying final tearful goodbyes, going through the 3rd level of "Pasaport Kontrol" (more loanwords) through which Turkish Arabesk music was going through my head, we finally came out on the other side...that strange world between the worlds...the international airport. Here, people from all over the globe easily intermingle, sitting in appropriately Turkish cafes, or in very homogenous lunch shops, going through the shopping mall through which are interspersed the various airport gates. Gucci handbags, Swatch watches, very pricey cigars shops and chocolatiers mix comfortably with duty-free shops, where one can buy almost anything.

Having located the sign pointing out our gate, and checking the monitor to be absolutely sure this was the right one for our flight, which was still going as scheduled, determining we still had 40 minutes or so before we had to go through the final part of the gate, I realized the song going through my head as we were walking was "Let Me Come Home." Seconds after this realization, I heard 2 other "home" songs wafting through the air from stores. Finally, we ended up at Starbucks...and standing there at the counter, I heard them playing Clapton. I think I visibly, audibly sighed...Clapton resonates throughout my lifetime of memories...and while he doesn't actually come from my home-birthplace, his music is home.

We finished our lunch, got to our gate early, went through customs with very little notice, and settled into the our plane seats, while classical music was playing through the plane's sound system. I reflected on how easy this had been, in comparison with our airport experience in NY on our way TO Turkiye. I silently thanked Janet for her email of prayers that our flight would be peacefully uneventful...it had been so far. (In JFK, Little Sir was crying so much at having to leave DH behind, I didn't hear the announcement of the change of gate. When I arrived at the gate written on our boarding passes, I saw only a handful of people in the waiting room, and a French aircraft out the window. Realizing something was wrong, I frantically searched for airport personnel...found one, who said, "Oh, you didn't hear my announcement? Your flight is moved to...") We literally ran to that gate, to find the sign flashing "Final Boarding Call"...grabbed an airline attendant who checked to see if we could still get on...we barely did. All that preparation, and we almost missed our flight! It is amazing how easily that can happen.)

The flight home was fine, though there was some delay disembarking from the aircraft...we sat on the tarmac for an hour and 45 minutes. Customs seemed to take a long time (especially as we were bringing back food), as did standing waiting at the luggage belt...started to worry that our luggage went somewhere else. But once we finally got everything, and found DH, and got in the car, and headed home...I found the tension slipping away...

home...you know, there are really a lot of songs about coming home. Many are on my life's soundtrack now.

And so it goes.