Food at the airport

Waiting for my backpack to be scanned at the San Juan Airport, I took a few furtive glances at an older woman who had been pulled to the side for additional screening. Prior to me walking through the metal detector, the security personnel held those of us waiting for a delay, without explanation. The agents just simply put their hands up and refused to allow any one through in our line until all passengers had cleared the x-ray and metal detectors. Evidently, the delay was cause by this poor woman who had made some food dish that was now being closely inspected by the two screeners. The serious-faced male and female inspectors, with the baby blue rubber gloves, were handling what appeared to be enchiladas, inserting their fingers into each one to make sure nothing was dangerous or malicious in the woman’s recipe. The woman remained stoic and cooperative, but I could not but feel sorry for her. She had worked very hard to make someone at her destination a good meal and it was, at least the aesthetic quality, being ruined.

Wouldn’t it have been nice, rather than ruining this meal, if there was a way in which some of us could have avoided the processed, commercialized food typical at airports to enjoy this woman’s endeavors? I hope that the object of her love, who she doubtlessly worked to please, enjoyed it. But at a time when many people do not enjoy the pleasures of real food, or companionship during a meal, to have the opportunity so that people could enjoy a homecooked meal before hours cramped in airplane would be nice. Of course, we would have to get over our fears of something different, of trying new things, and talking to others. But it would be worth it, I think.