Jet lag buzz

Waiting at Changi airport in Singapore for local friends to come and pick me up so I won't die of boredom in the 8 hours before my connecting flight to India is due. In the words of resident Singapoerans, Singapore is one giant shopping mall; sorry if that sounds judgemental, I am not saying it, the residents are, the logic being if you're catholic I guess you can pull a funny one on the pope. Any way, I am sitting outside the baggage area in what might be termed a small island of seats in the middle of a wide corridor. Without much thought I had plopped on one of the seats. What didn't strike me at that time was that there were no other passengers in those set of seats; most had taken chairs by the walls. I soon realized why. I was sitting there with my hands locked behind my head and staring into space wih Brendel's Mozart to keep me company. It started as a trickle, but soon waves of humanity came washing down the corridor. They split into two columns right before me and walked around me. I was startled at first. Here I am sitting in a rather clueless, shall we say awkward position and hundreds of people are walking right up to me, staring at the guy in a funny hiker’s layering jacket and in what I take pleasure in pretending to be obeisance, give me the right of the way. In due time with a little help from Wolfgang and the fact that it has been 24 hours since I started my journey, I settle into a seance and actually begin enjoying myself. I can see me staring back emptily right through them, but taking in each and every one of them. Like flies they fell off my bleary-eye radar - the waddling nuns, the wild-eyed burqa-clad wives, the spiky hair-styled asian teen, the batik body-gloved flight attendants, the workers wheeling a barrow-ful of hard hats, the harrowed mother with three kids, the cute girl with calloused feet, the hard-to-miss americans, the gesticulating french, the young indian wife, the tired old parents with children of unbridled youth - they all pay reluctant homage to to me. The babbling brook of humanity divides itself into two startled tributaries at the island that was me on a natural high. It was almost as if I wasn't there; they were looking at a guy who wasn't me and strangely they seemed vulnerable as I looked through them. Guess I haven't felt like this in a long time. Guess I really need this vacation. It will be another 16 hours before I get home. It will be worth it, if only for my metaphysical experience.