Cattle in flight

There was a time, at least according to the movies, when flying was glamorous, when stewardesses and pilots were hot stuff, when airports were classy. I've been flying a lot lately, but the more I do, the less classy it gets. I sometimes feel like just another mooing cow that gets herded onto the great cattle car in the sky. Fancier airlines at least give you a free newspaper and make an effort to at civilizing the experience. But this last couple of trips we took only the most discounted of discount flights and rang our cow bells right through take-off.

When you are in the holding pen (they call it 'the gate'), it's interesting to watch your fellow travelers. Americans are easiest to spot because they are the only ones traveling in pajamas. They are not actual pajamas (usually) but sweatshirts, yoga pants, and comfy sneakers.  A really dressy American passenger wears jeans. I hate to say it, compatriots, but you dress like slobs when you fly. Brits look a little less like they just rolled out of bed. And the Europeans look put-together, as usual, in airports. They could be flying to Rome or going to the theater. The men are in button-down shirts and pointy-toed shoes, the women in boots and skirts. They are probably all wearing scarves.

In case you are still not sure about a passenger's nationality, you just need to watch his plane-boarding behavior. This is where you can really see the divide between Americans and Germans. As a freedom-loving American, I exercise my right to not board the plane until I absolutely have to. I am not worried about overhead compartment space - I already checked a bag. I am not worried about finding my seat - it's reserved for me anyway. I will linger in the waiting area (holding pen), enjoying my personal space, as long as possible before I have to inhale dry air and buckle my adjustable seat belt.

Germans, however, are the opposite. They start lining up even before boarding begins. On our most recent flight, a line formed before any staff were at the counter. I don't know if the plane had even arrived yet. All this lining up made me wonder for a minute if I was doing something wrong. Just like scarf-wearing has started to rub off on me a little, I felt like maybe I should be lining up too. My sense of freedom snapped me out of it - why should I line up anyway? And like a steer out on the open range, I stayed off to the side for as long as I could.

The flight is finally over. Do you want to get off the plane? Good luck. The Germans aren't making space for you. Just like livestock you'll have to shove your way out into the aisle and climb over someone to get at the overhead bin. If you have a window seat, no one will wait to let you out.

So what does airplane travel tell us about international relations? Americans are sloppily dressed independent types, but at least they will help a short lady who can't reach her carry-on bag. Germans appear neat and orderly, but won't hesitate to stampede when those exit doors open. Is the airport the place where humans do away with politeness and show their true natures?  We're all animals anyway.