Thursday, 3 December 2015

trade-offs in life

Last week I went to Amsterdam for a three-day meeting.  A long way to go, 18 hours getting there and 21 hours getting back, and the airport experiences were particularly bad this time.  In Amsterdam perhaps they were jittery after the Paris attacks, but I counted six times I had to have my passport seen or scanned, neither the automatic check-in or luggage check-in machines would accept my booking or my luggage, my hand luggage was swabbed and emptied out for examination and I had to be interviewed by a personal profiling agent.  The queues were awful too - though I suppose the flight itself wasn't too bad as at least I got to see the Amy Winehouse documentary and finish a book.

Then in Atlanta the usual rigmarole of having to go through immigration into the US and then straight back out again to catch the connecting flight.  I do not understand how the US has failed to grasp the concept of transit, as used by the rest of the world for several decades.

Checking in for my return leg to Panama is never straightforward, as Panama does not, at least in theory, allow non-residents in without a return (outwards) ticket.  So of course when airlines see that my itinerary does not include another part to leave Panama they always want to see my residence visa (this is why I cannot use online check-in or even automatic check-in machines, although the staff always make me try).  Having gone through that issue in Amsterdam, and checked right through to Panama, I was surprised to hear my name called in Atlanta to go and see the staff at the gate.  The steward expressed concern that my itinerary ended in Panama and I explained that I live there.  I showed her the residence visa in my passport.  But she couldn't read the expiry date on the visa (to be fair it is written in very strange hand-writing) so was not prepared to accept it.  I realised that on my laptop I had the emailed electronic ticket for my next trip a week later, so she waited while I powered up my laptop to show her.  I suppose I shouldn't complain, they are only doing their job, but it is tiring gong through this sort of thing so frequently.

As the cheapest flights to Amsterdam get in early in the morning, and my boss didn't want me going straight from the airport into our meeting, I was allowed to arrive a day early (particularly as my 6:30 am arrival at the hotel was only 00:30 - ie shortly after midnight - for my body clock).  I didn't want to sleep for too long though so I got up mid-morning and then went to the Van Gogh Museum.  It was terrific and I spent three hours in there.  I like his work so it was good to see the Sunflowers, for example, in the flesh, but I was also impressed by some of the lesser-known stuff like his Japanese-style paintings.

There was an exhibition on comparing Van Gogh and Munch (yes, they had The Scream in the exhibition), which also had works by Monet, Manet, Gauguin, Pissaro and several other well-known artists.  It was an excellent exhibition.

What particularly interested me, however, was a small participative display, where visitors were asked to write something on a card about how they were feeling - the most powerful emotion in their life.  I wrote loneliness on my card.  Not that being lonely is something I am upset about, if that makes sense, rather it is something that I am aware of but that I consciously accept as the price I pay for the wonderful opportunities I have in my job to see so much of the world.  Indeed I knowingly make decisions that make it harder to establish any social life by adding days, weekends and weeks on to trips whenever I can rather than rushing home to attend social events in Panama.  But my situation - my lifestyle - is very unusual.  I was surprised then, as I stuck my card to the board, to see those already there, saying fear, sadness, and in several cases loneliness.  Many more 'negative' emotions than positive.  I doubt that many of the people who wrote those other cards have the same degree of choice over the matter that I have.

It reminded me of a recent conversation with a colleague - a follow-up to an email from him apologising for not delivering something because he had been "in a dark place" and so unable to focus on his work.  Like me, the frequent travel made it hard for him to establish a social life. Evening classes or sports teams were out because of the inability to attend with any regularity, and he clearly doesn't have the ability I have to fill a solitary evening in sorting out a music or photo collection (or writing a blog post!).  He is drinking rather too much, in my view, and whilst he denied this he did say that if he wants company the only available option seems to be to go to a bar.  It reminded me of a friend I made in my early days in Senegal, who (whilst I was away on a business trip) had a breakdown and was shipped home by his employer, never to return as they decided he had a drink problem. In his case I hadn't noticed it, but we didn't see eachother very often as one or other of us was usually away on a trip...

I recall during my early days in Senegal, when I was still adjusting to the loneliness that comes with the job, I consciously avoided pouring myself a glass of wine when I got home, aware of the danger of it becoming a need.  As a consequence I have lost my tolerance for alcohol and now on the rare occasion I do have a glass of something, my sleep is very disturbed that night.  I'm also aware of the danger of social media - it is too easy to have a kind of social life on facebook, to sit there waiting for a virtual friend to post something you can like or comment on - and to feel unappreciated if no-one likes your own posts.  So again I consciously restrict my use of it.  For one thing I do not have data on my phone, so am not able to constantly check for messages and updates as some people do.  I prefer to live in the real world, to be aware of where I am and what is around me!  But I think you need a fair bit of inner strength to resist all the crutches.

I'm still happy with the choice I've made, the loneliness for me is not a great price to pay for the fantastic travel experiences I have, and although I work long hours I also find the work quite fulfilling.  But I know I couldn't live like this for the rest of my life, and I also know that when the time comes to settle somewhere and live a 'normal' life it will be quite a big adjustment - but as Amsterdam showed me, that I shouldn't assume that everyone living that kind of life doesn't have their own difficulties to face.