They Say the Journey Matters More Than the Destination

It is the feeling of fresh oxygen gracing your face as you step out of the car after a long drive to an opportunistic place waiting for you to embark on a new journey. The bustling of people checking in and the rolling of each passenger’s suitcase as they rush to catch their flight. When I walk into an airport, the idea that everyone has a destination, and each person has just begun their journey at the same time is the most exciting part. Looking back, my trips to different states and countries have given me insight into such a niche culture that not many people truly think about, international airport culture. It is different all over the world and gives you a little knowledge of the cultures and ways of life in the country in which that airport is located.

On my trip to Nigeria this past summer, I was reminded of just how different airports are in each country. It might be obvious each location would not be the same, but it is the idea that despite the international label stamped on the name, each airport resonates with the airport’s culture. As I step into the Newark Liberty International Airport, it is apparent that American independence is heavily present. As an American, this is what I am used to. No one to help you unless you ask, self-check-ins and security checks where each passenger knows exactly what to do, no questions asked. There were the classic quick-eats and restaurants before and after security. After security, my family and I went to our gate to prepare for boarding. As I looked around, I saw men and women catching up on work to stay occupied. It is a busy country, I noticed. People on business calls, typing away on their computer while managing their family of five.

After waiting for what felt like forever, we were finally able to board our flight. We took Lufthansa, so many of the passengers on the flight were either having a layover in Germany or Germany was their destination. The flight was a long eight hours that required me to binge all the movies available that I had been meaning to watch. Paired with what felt like an endless amount of sleep, I hoped to make the time go by. The occasional food trays were provided to us filled with food foreign to my family and me. It did not seem appetizing to my extremely picky pallet at first. There was a bread roll with some butter along with a serving of some type of beef stew. Beside it was an assortment of fruits and some steamed vegetables. “I didn’t think I would like it at first, but since I was hungry, I decided to take a bite. Didn’t think I’d enjoy it, but it was pretty good.,” said my brother when asked about the airplane meal. The food Lufthansa was serving was something I could say I indulged in and enjoyed. Despite my lack of knowledge on the main course that was given to me, I still was able to appreciate the food that I received.

The rest of the flight was fine, with the occasional bathroom breaks and reading a few pages from my book. When I finally landed in Frankfurt, Germany, it was quite literally like stepping into a new country. The airport had a futuristic element that made me wonder whether it truly is a technologically developed building or if I am just not used to an airport looking like it did. As we walked out the gate and to our next gate, I could not help but notice the relaxing chairs provided with a charging station equipped for any electronic device imaginable. Each chair is lounge-like, sleek, and comfy looking that could make you fall asleep in a matter of seconds. The places to eat even felt fancier than at the Newark Liberty International  Airport. Little bakeries push out fresh croissants and Danishes every hour and breakfast stands that whip up delicious, scrambled eggs in a matter of minutes.

Before I knew it, we were back on the plane for another six hours. Once we arrived in Abuja, Nigeria, the airport culture had, yet again, shifted. Once we arrived at the baggage claim, we were immediately greeted with workers hired by the airport to assist in retrieving bags from the belt. As they stacked our bags in the bag carts, they assisted us every step of the way through customs and immigration, and even though the parking lot to our taxi. “It is nice to have those employees there to help because, with the number of suitcases we had with us, there was no way we could have done it ourselves after a long day of travel,” my mother had said. As they helped fill the trunks with our nine suitcases, two carry-ons, and five personal items, I began to think about how different this airport was from both Frankfurt and London. Each came with a different way of running things and it was interesting to be a part of it even if it was only as brief as catching a flight to Nigeria.