My journey to my motherland begins by going on Expedia.com hunting for the cheapest flight. After purchasing a plane ticket which costs about $1,500-$2,000, I pick up the phone and dial a familiar set of numbers: 010-5117-2076. My grandpa picks up the phone saying “Hello? Who is this?” in nostalgic Korean dialect. I answer, “It’s me your grandson Byoungwook.” In response to him asking “What? Who are you? I couldn’t hear you,” I repeat my name couple of more times before announcing my plan to visit Korea over the vacation. As I put down the phone, my heart is beginning to pound out of joy and excitement.
As the date for departure approaches, my house is looking a lot like the vitamin section in pharmacy. Korea does make supplements such as Omega 3 or Vitamin D, but my relatives seem to have peculiar adoration for American supplements. After running around all the malls in New York City, figuring out best gifts for my relative, the hardest part of traveling arrives: Packing. Shoving down gifts for both of my grandparents, ten aunts, and ten uncles is not an easy task to complete. My hope for having enough space to pack my clothing turns out to be nothing but a mere imagination.
Loading two big luggage and one carry-on into my dad’s car, I take a glimpse of my house to remember it for the next month to come. Car engine starts and my dad calls me to get in the car. We take Cross Island Parkway from Bell Boulevard and take Belt Parkway to JFK Expressway. Arriving at JFK International airport, I take a look around to see the excitement and joy in other travelers’ faces. I join in with putting on the biggest smile and pushing a cart full of luggage.
I have travelled around the world enough to know the routine at the airport. I get a ticket, send my luggage off, go through TSA check, and wait in front of my gate. The long wait ends as one of the flight attendance opens the gate. I enter the plane and put my carry-on in the dashboard above. I take a seat praying that the seat next to me will be empty, but this too was my wishful thinking. The plane takes off as I look out the window hoping to locate my neighborhood.
After thirteen hours of flight, the gate opens as the pilot announces, “We have arrived at Incheon International Airport. Thank you for riding with Asiana Airline.” I get out of the plane into the airport. As I approach the immigration, it feels weird to stand with other foreigners. Republic of Korea is the country where I was born and raised for first ten years of my life, but now that I am naturalized as U.S. citizen I am entering my motherland as a foreigner. The excitement fades away a bit, and feeling of melancholy comes in and takes its place.
Putting aside this mixed feeling, I come out the airport. My childhood neighborhood, Bundang, is where I want to visit first in Korea, so I buy an express bus ticket towards Bundang. When I arrive, everything has changed. To be exact, not much has changed about Bundang but I have changed. Everything seems so small now. I remember myself not wanting to walk to school because it was too far. But what felt like eternity then turns out to be five minutes of walking with the steps that I take now. Also, I am able to see both entrance and the exit of the park where I used to get lost all the time. Everything is the same but so much has changed. The length of the steps that I take has changed, my sense of perceived time has changed, and my perspective has changed.
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Thanks, David. Your piece reminds me of “Settling” towards the end when you recognize the place you’ve come back to but feel like it’s not at all how you remember it. I recommend exploring why Budang felt changed when you visited even though everything was exactly the same. I also recommend thinking of analogies that could help readers understand the feeling if they’re not familiar.
DW
David, your post was both funny and informative. I couldn’t help but laugh when you described yourself picking out vitamins for your family in Korea. I can just imagine what the store clerk is thinking when you place all of those supplements on the counter! Anyways, I really liked how you painted the picture of the actual journey there. On so many TV shows today and even books that I have read seem to say something along the lines I was anxious to go, got on the plane, and 6 hours later I started my true journey. But there are missing so many valuable hours of inspiration! Plus, I love how you express melancholy instead of faking the excitement because I too get excited about events only to realize that the buildup was more exciting than the actual event. Maybe your autoethnography can talk of expectations vs reality? Anyways, I really enjoyed your post. Good job!
This post leave me with anxiety to hear more, it also brings back memories because I too come from a different country where I would have to pay a pretty penny to get back home. ” A vitamin section in the pharmacy thats really funny” great sense of humor added to your piece. I actually read this more than once, this was . a great piece you said a lot without writing a lot and you were very descriptive. The writing was very vivid. I love it.