Coming and Going

I’m used to flying backwards and forwards to Ethiopia – this is probably my tenth trip – and I’m normally really looking forward to it. I have to confess that this time I wasn’t. In fact, there was a heavy sense of dread in my stomach as I did the last bits of my packing, and a growing voice in my head that said ‘I don’t want to go’.

The main reason behind my reluctance was pretty simple – I wanted my life in London back. I’d spent a lovely day on Sunday in and around London, doing the kind of thing I would have been doing on a bank holiday weekend if I still lived there (mostly sitting on rail replacement bus services, if I’m honest, but even so …) and I was – yet again – leaving that life and my friends again, and going back to a place where I am forced to confront my character flaws at least 3 times a day! No surprise that I wasn’t rushing to get on the plane.

But luckily some of my long-suffering friends talked me round (advice summary: “you’re going, deal with it’), I had coffee with a friend who always manages to inspire me, and quite frankly, even I had started to get bored with my self-pitying moaning.

So by the time I’d got to the airport, I was feeling slightly more positive.

Of course, the other thing that helped is that I love airports. Really, really love them. I don’t know why, but I could sit for hours in an airport (departures or arrivals, I’m not fussy) and no matter how rubbish I’m feeling, I start to brighten up. I think it’s partly because I love to watch the huge variety of people around me and wonder what they’re doing there. Where are they going? Who with? Why? Who’s come to pick them up? How long have they been away and what did they do there? Basically, I’m nosy, and what better place to people-watch than an airport?

Then there’s the fact that it’s a ‘limbo’ of sorts. You’ve left, but you haven’t quite started the journey. I’m not particularly good with limbo, but I am good at spending time in a place where everything I need for a good afternoon is nearby – chocolate, books, tea, and a comfy seat – and I have no responsibilities or decisions more taxing than ‘Wispa or twirl?’

Eventually I did have to leave the womb of the departures lounge and I’m now in Addis, staying at E and M’s. I fly to Lalibela tomorrow, and have mixed feelings about it. I’ve already got wind of the frustrations that await me there (and this time, it has absolutely nothing to do with the local community and/or culture!) and it makes my heart sink.

But I’m here, it’s sunny and warm, I have injera and wat for dinner, and E and M’s baby breaks into a huge grin every time I walk into the room. It could be worse!