At the Beijing Capital International Airport T3 international/Hong Kong/Macao/Taiwan departure gate, to reach the next security checkpoint, you first take a downward escalator and then board an airport train to the terminal. This layout results in a fixed travel path for people after check-in to reach the security, meaning that after dropping off bags and bidding farewell to family and friends, much like ships lining up and slowly disappearing on the horizon, they gradually vanish down the descending escalator. This escalator resembles the ones in modern shopping malls, adorned with large banners on both sides, mostly of jewelry and perfumes. From my vantage point on the upper floor, I can also see dining tables on either side of the fast-food restaurants. Upon reaching the lower level, the loading platform for the airport train is not far away. The train has only two stops. I have never gotten off at the first stop, T3-D, but later learned that in 2008, T3-D served the charter flights for the Beijing Olympics and Paralympics. I have always been at the destination, T3-E. This year marks the tenth year of studying abroad. If I return home about twice a year, I've probably experienced around 20 instances of hugging, saying goodbyes, and turning away from my parents at the same spot. Then, approximately 20 times, I've been alone from that escalator to the airport train to the security checkpoint and terminal.

I realized in the later years that these turning-away moments would accompany me for a long time into the future. At first, after turning away, I would glance back in the direction of my parents for the second time. I would catch a glimpse of their smiling faces as they waved to me. In those moments, I would be inspired, and reciprocated an equally enthusiastic smile and waving arms. As the years passed, I gradually stopped turning back, giving up the chance to see them wave again.

From the escalator to the airport train, I learned to observe others. I wondered about the people who joined me on this fixed travel path. When I saw students with backpacks, I would speculate about which country they were flying to for study. When I saw pairs of companions, I would envy their companionship on this journey. When I saw men in business attire wearing leather shoes, I would wonder if they were accustomed to the frequent flying lifestyle, if they were never troubled by the 'turning away' dilemma. When I glimpsed the anticipation of a new place in the eyes of fellow travelers, and when I saw flight attendants sharing the same train carriage, they had just embarked on a day of work…

Pure observation is a practice that requires following disciplined control to not indulging one’s mind to project over the subject. Yet this is no particular interest of me, I indulge my subjective impulsive imagination to permeate. I am not a perfect observer, just as documentaries are not flawless evidence providers. Those people still dining on both sides of the escalator must have their departure time later than mine; otherwise, I could have joined my parents inside for a while. I like standing in the middle of the carriage, gripping the vertically positioned metal pole. Sometimes, the pole is ice-cold, but occasionally, because the train had recently carried passengers, I can grasp the residual warmth left by the previous person. I detest that warmth. So, even if it requires me to grip higher, disproportionate to my height, it doesn't matter. A man wearing a light-colored T-shirt was looking at his phone all the way. I speculated about the prescription of his glasses; maybe if he didn't look at his phone all the time, he wouldn't need such thick lenses. There was a girl who looked younger than me. Her black ponytail was neatly combed, as you could see the comb marks on the hair close to the scalp. The distances between the teeth of the comb were so clear. I wonder if she could carry such a big and heavy suitcase on an international flight herself.

The external world avoids self-pity. Observation is the process that diminishes the self. The first step in allowing this observation to prevail is to stop caring about whether I should turn back and look at that image of my parents that I could have imagined long ago at the airport.


Born in Beijing, China
Lives and works in Chicago

Education
2021                   Pennsylvania State University, Mathematics B.S. 
2024                   University of Chicago, Visual Arts, MFA