There's always something inherently voyueristic about the arrival area of Changi Airport. Unlike other airports, the baggage claim area is seperated from the outside world by a large glass wall, merely 25 or 30 metres away. In between the baggage carousels and the wall are the customs checkpoints. These are placed a long intervals to funnel people through, so for long stretches it's just the glass wall. On the other side of the wall stand people waiting, stretching their necks and peering through the wall at the far end of the cavernous baggage claim area as people enter from the far side and approach, looking for the carousel with their bags.

I've always felt a bit self-conscious walking into that room when returning from a flight. Inevitably someone I know will be on the other side of that wall, and if I look at them I will be forced to wave and acknowledge their existence. I will then feel their eyes on me as I turn away and scan for my bags. It's like being inside a fishbowl; all you see are eyes, sweeping right, left, and looking eagerly for their target. Sometimes the eyes fix on you.

I've always felt also that seeing your family early makes it somewhat of an extended ordeal. You see then, wave happily, and want to go through and say hello; but no, first you must endure an interminable wait to get your bags. Finally, after all your excitement has worn off, you get your bags and go through. I prefer waiting until I can actually go up and speak to my family and reach out and hug them to make eye contact.

So I usually have a policy of not looking at all at the glass wall when I walk through the room, but looking immediately at my carousel and focusing on that. I feel the hairs prickling on the back of my neck and feel the weight of a thousand eyes on me, but it usually turns out to be my imagination.

When I'm on the other side of the glass, on the other hand, I try and have as much fun as possible. For example, when Ming was coming back from Penang after his swimming meet.