Musings On Life Away From Home

I RUN FRANTICALLY TO THE boarding gate, mortified, as I hear my name being called through the airport PA system. To an observer, I must look like I am losing it. Laptop bag on my right shoulder and an overnight bag on my left, I press my phone to my ear as I rummage for my boarding pass and passport with one hand. A coffee cup— essential—is in the other.

- Trixie Conlu

Making my way to the plane, I strain to hear what my boss and colleagues are saying over the phone. We are preparing for a big meeting in Manila and I am flying home to attend it. I mutter quick apologies for having to drop early from the call and squeeze my way to a window seat in a cramped A320. I settle in and catch my breath.

Truth be told, I have lost count of the number of flights I have taken over the past 13 months since I moved from Manila for a consulting job based in Singapore. Life has since been like this: constant movement. Uber has recognized Changi Airport as a favorite destination, and I have gotten so used to being on planes that I can now sleep through take off when it used to make me so anxious.

The thing with constantly moving and never being in one place for long periods of time is that it forces you to adapt and settle in quicker than you normally would. For some people, the idea may sound appealing. But if you had told me over a year ago that this is what my life would be like, I probably would have shaken my head and laughed in disbelief.

I am quite deeply rooted in home. Up until I was 19, I had slept in my parents’ bedroom beside my entire family; a setup probably not so unusual for Filipino families, but definitely something that would sound odd to non- Filipinos. I have always lived near family. Until I was 13, we lived in an apartment complex with my father’s siblings and their families, after which we moved to a subdivision where seven out of ten of my mother’s siblings and their families stay.