It all began right after I checked in for my flight, I walked towards the gates and was about to enter the line. I was ready to go through the security screening and suddenly my anxiety crept up on my out of nowhere; “Are they going to strip-search me?”. My hands began to shake, “I couldn’t risk it.”, I thought to myself. I quickly popped the xanax pill in my mouth that my roommate gave me and got in line.
You see, I’m absolutely terrified of flying. Have you ever been through turbulence? It’s no joke! My roommate was aware of my fear of flying, so he kindly offered me a xanax pill to help calm me during the flight. He told me, I would “blackout” and then I would be fine. But suddenly it hit me that maybe I couldn’t take it in through security and that's when the anxiety hit me. As walked closer towards the gate, I couldn’t help but notice all the security guards; were they looking at me? It felt like they were giving me the mean mug and I began to ask myself, “Why are they looking at me?”. Then I began to get paranoid -I forgot to mention that I ate a weed brownie an hour before all this and it was in full-effect. Now I was truly beginning to freak out! I am not sure how I managed to keep it together, but I finally got to front and put my bags on the belt for screening. I walked through the metal detector, but quickly noticed my bags didn’t. The officer told me there was a “red flag” and they needed to go through my bags. My face quickly became as pale as a ghost, even though I knew didn’t have anything. They found a shampoo bottle and told me it had to be thrown away. “Whew”, that was a close call I thought to myself, but finally I made it through security. I walked with relief through the terminal to my gate and was waiting to board my flight. Then I suddenly started to think about the last time I was on a plane; It had to be when my family came to America. You see, I was actually born in Korea, but I moved to America with my family when I was only five years old. Then I began to think about my past and the cultural differences I had gone through as a child. I thought of the times when I was inside my house solving complex math problems all night and I’d look outside my window to see other kids in the neighborhood running around playing “cops and robbers”. How the neighborhood would have fun block parties in the summer, but my parents would be the only ones who wouldn't go. I was so jealous of those kids because their parents didn’t make them do math homework all summer and they actually interacted with the other parents. Yet I was able to learn and adapt to the American culture over the years and here I was now feeling like a junkie. It reminded me of how my cousin, who is a foreign exchange student here, calls me a “banana”- white on the inside and yellow on the outside. It’s a clever term, but deep in my heart I am always Korean.
Suddenly I was interrupted from my vivid thoughts by a loud speaker announcing it was time to board the plane. Thankfully I had begun to feel slightly sedated from the xanax and became very calm, maybe even a little numb. In some way I felt like I was extremely drunk, but without the alcohol. Next thing I knew I was already on the plane and sound asleep. I was on my way back to my native country, “blacked out”. I woke up only as the flight attendant was letting me know that the plane had landed and that we were unloading. I thought, “Already?”. I wiped the drool off my face and looked outside the window. I was looking at the fabulous city of Seoul, that congested, crazy-hectic city that never sleeps. When I got off the plane, I noticed something familiar... everyone looked like me and it smelled like kimchi fried rice. I was finally home! It was a hot, humid day. The heat and humidity was record breaking, the kind where one could fry eggs on the sidewalk. I was sure if I walked without my shoes my feet would turn brown. The first thing I had to do was get on a cab to go to my grandparents house and show them my respects, because I hadn't seen them in almost 15 years. Once I got in a cab, I was sweating up a storm and the cab driver didn’t bother turning on the AC. My grandparents lived right outside of Seoul and to get there, we had to drive through the middle of the city. You see, Seoul is extremely congested all the time and there’s traffic everywhere, which as an impatient person, drove me nuts. However during the drive, I got to look at all the tall building complexes and mini market shops. All of the sites reminded me of my childhood, it was quite nostalgic. Then two dreadful hours later, I was finally at my grandparents home. As I walked in the door, my whole family was there to greet me. It was nice seeing everyone for the first time in fifteen years, very heart warming. We had a big dinner with amazing home cooked Korean food...what a feast. Then I though how everyone looked so different and old. I couldn’t stop staring at them, noticing how much they have changed. They sure did look different from when I was five. It made me feel like I missed out on 15 years of my life with my family. Sadly during the rest of my time in Korea, I was miserable! Being with my family and eating the amazing food was great, but it was unbearably hot. Everyday it felt like the blood in my body was starting to boil. Wherever I went, there was not even a trace of AC. It was so hot that most of the townsfolk stayed shuttered up in their homes, in hopes of some cool solace from the unusually desolate outdoors. Electricity is very expensive in Korea, so much so that no one dares to touch the the air conditioning unit. On top of that most are just used to it. This made me realize how blessed I am to be living in a great country with affordable electricity and air conditioning. Every night the only thing I could think of was being inside an ice cube, as I imagined running to the comfort of my air conditioned house back in the US. I just wanted to go back “home”. Finally, it was time to go back home and I got to the airport and I couldn’t wait, I was so ready to go back to the United States. I realized family is great, but Korea is not what I imagined it to be. I felt like it was really different than back when I was a child. However I did finally understand what my cousin meant by calling me a “banana”, because I am American on the inside and Korean on the outside.