I have a new favorite place in L.A. And no, it’s not the Pacific Palisades, or Topanga Canyon State Park, or the Expo Line to Santa Monica, or some hip fusion coffee bistro in Los Feliz with healthy tacos on Fridays and jazz music on Sundays.
It’s the international arrivals terminal at LAX.
One of the things I’ve always loved about Los Angeles is its extreme cultural diversity. People from so many nations visit and move to southern California, and despite the current anti-immigrant political climate, the global assimilation here still feels inevitable and completely natural. The region is a pastiche of vibrant, multi-cultural neighborhoods (Feel like Ethopian tonight? Head over to Fairfax Ave. between Venice and Olympic), and as Ken Burns’ Vietnam War documentary is sadly pointing out, we can never learn enough about other countries.
The international terminal is decidedly different from the other arrival facilities at the airport. While most of those are just dreary baggage claim belts and congested curb sides with taxi and pickup lanes, the Tom Bradley Terminal is like a non-stop global convention. There’s a Coffee Bean, a Pinkberry and a Mexican restaurant called Cantina Loredo nearby, but the centerpiece of the place is a wide ramp where the arriving passengers emerge from the customs area below, pushing their luggage carts—some piled high with every personal belonging imaginable—and are greeted by dozens and dozens of families and friends flanking rails on both sides, a huddled mass of multi-lingual humanity eager to see their first glimpse of the person or people they were waiting for.
One of the things I used to love about the “old” airport days was when people could welcome their arriving loved ones (or send them off) right at the plane’s gate. If I had time to kill while waiting to board a flight myself, it was always fun and comforting to wander from gate to gate and watch people I didn’t know embrace each other.
LAX International Arrivals is the next best thing, aside from instantly reminding us of how small a slice we really are in the global pie. And it’s a lot less painful than riding the “It’s a Small World” boat at Disneyland.