Itâ€s 6:47 a.m. on Friday as I write this, and I am more than four hours early for my international flight. (I mixed up the departure time with the arrival time!)
Light from the brightening sky has been pooling into the previously dark waiting area of Dulles International Airport, where I have been sitting, waiting to check in. An Indian family across from me is trying to entertain a fussy toddler. Behind me, an airport employee speaks to someone (a friend? a sister?) on the speakerphone in a mix of West African French and English. From time to time, her walkie-talkie bleeps and stern voices crackle through. In the background, Blondieâ€s “Heart of Glassâ€� is playing, but because Iâ€
m so sleepy, it takes me a few minutes to identify the song.
I love this airport; Iâ€ve come to admire its handsome brutalist slopes and edges; its remoteness from central Washington, D.C.â€�although inconvenientâ€�makes it seem like Iâ€
m already far away. And while the security lines arenâ€
t fun, people watching here always is.
Generally, too, I find airports fascinatingâ€�they function as mini-cities, planned with security, commerce, and mobility in mind. But theyâ€re also portals to other worldsâ€�borderlands with their own set of rules. They all reflect the unique aspects of the places theyâ€
re in, but theyâ€
re also sort of all the same.
According to French anthropologist Marc Augé, airports are places of “solitude and similitude,â€� where every person who passes through becomes reduced to a roleâ€�theyâ€re passengers or pilots before theyâ€
re people. But in a blog post for the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, author Jenifer Van Vleck disagrees, arguing that an airport is “a deeply social space�and, indeed, an emotionally charged space.�
As I look at the screen to check on the departure time for my flight to India, I realize my love for airports draws from all of these theories. I love the anonymity and time-warping quality of the space; but also enjoy observing human moments that appear particularly stark against the sterility of the place. Most of all, I love the feeling of being in motion. Like Alain de Botton writes in his book, A Week at the Airport, airports offer “promises of alternative lives, to which we might appeal at moments of claustrophobia and stagnation.�

What weâ€
re writing:
Are dog parks… exclusionary? ¤ Why Toledo just gave Lake Erie legal rights. ¤ Finding a writerâ€s voice in Lagos. ¤ These Parisiens have had it with people who want to Instagram their street. ¤ Pune is turning buses into public bathrooms for women. ¤ Want to fight a pipeline? Live in a tree. ¤
And remember that sampling of public transit textiles I previewed in the last edition of Navigator? CityLabâ€s Feargus Oâ€
Sullivan has now written a much more comprehensive, global review of public transit fabrics.
What weâ€
re taking in:

The feminist history of the tea room. (JSTOR Daily) ¤ “Convinced that becoming skooliesâ€�people who live mobile lives in converted school busesâ€�would afford them freedom and adventure, they sprung for a white 36-foot 1995 Thomas Built Saf-T-Liner for $4,500.â€� (Curbed) ¤ “I could see how big the city was, that we were a small part of something larger. It comforted me. â€� (Catapult) ¤ How does one map a myth like Homerâ€s Odyssey? (Lapham Quarterly) ¤ Solangeâ€
s new album is “made in Houston and steeped in its hyper-local culture.� (NPR) ¤ “We honour our concrete just like people honour their trees.� (The Discourse) ¤ How the Census was manipulated. (The Baffler) ¤ Liberty City memorializes lost loved ones on T-shirts. (Topic) ¤ A Norwegian town called “Å.� (Popula) ¤ This Kolkata artist is creating traditional Patachitra art, but with urban scenes from modern India. (Scroll.in) ¤
View from the ground:

@axlaxlaxlaxlaxl strolled by the Palace of Fine Arts Theatre in San Francisco. @yasminedagher highlighted the warm rooftops of Beirut. @ethan.k56 captured the waterfront views in New Orleans. @helloimhelen enjoyed the sunny Houston weather.
Tag us with the hashtag #citylabontheground and we’ll feature it on CityLabâ€s Instagram page or pull them together for the next edition of Navigator.
Iâ€m off the week after this one so look out for the next edition of Navigator in approximately 4 weeks.
Cheers!