After lunch I came back into my classroom, moved all of the desks and chairs against the wall, slipped on some heavy duty rubber gloves and began to scrub the recently swept floor with a combination of stripper and water. During the school year a rotating group of students clean my classroom after school. They mean well, but their collectively weak hands and indifferent disposition do little to erase constant scuff marks and dirty feet leavings. They lazily wipe down tables with dry rags and my co-teacher doesn't care enough to tell them otherwise.
I left school with nice sense of accomplishment and decided that I would reward myself by not doing much of anything at home. The packing had all been finished and I wasn't worried about how much sleep I was going to get at night. I figured I would sleep if I was tired, or on the plane. My parents had planned a barbecue for the night we were to arrive stateside, and I was confident that I would rally regardless of my fuel level. I stayed up and watched Craig Fergusen which ends at 1:30 in the morning. Sami wanted me up by 6 to catch the charter bus to the airport at 7. With no other shows of interest airing, I attempted to sleep.
Huge thunderstorms and my tossing and turning kept Sami up intermittently. By 4:30, we had given up hope. We made coffee and I was starving and made 2 bowls of udon which scorched the roof of my mouth instantly. For the next three days I complained about how I had burned myself on stupid plain noodles and, given my oral handicap, wouldn't be able to properly appreciate the American fare I had been craving for a year.
We left earlier than we had planned and dragged bulky black suitcases behind us toward the bus stop. Until now, we had always opted for the subway, but the charter bus to the airport would cut down our travel time by more than an hour. We opted to forgo covering our suitcases with plastic ponchos and, because of this, the rain started up again halfway through our walk.
No one stood near us at the bus stop which Sami attributed to prejudice. I just thought that they were being shy. I slept the entire bus ride.
At the airport, we got Sami some KFC. She got a snack wrap and I ordered myself a couple of overpriced but awesome hot wings. I didn't want to eat too much because I love airline food. I get really excited when I don't know what I am going to eat. I really wish that, at restaurants, someone would order something for me. Reading a menu just opens up an unwinnable, internal debate. I rarely finish a meal out without experiencing entree envy. It is a curse.
On the plane I was quickly reminded of how much I love Asian airlines. We flew Delta and the seats were too close to fall asleep, the stewardesses were sloppily dressed and hovered over our garbage like vultures. I still love flying and Delta was fine, but I missed my tightly skirted Asian stewardesses strolling every half hour with a new treat and freely pouring wine.
We had a layover in Tokyo (Narita) and I am pretty sure that the airport is a good distance away from the city because we saw tons of green, flat farmland- very different from mountainous Korea. Inside I started to feel bad that we didn't bring any treats from Korea to share with family and friends. It would have been interesting to see how they would take to songpyun- sweetly stuffed and soft bites of rice cake, squid jerky or even kimchi. Luckily, I was able to find something uniquely east Asian at a small convenience store at the airport- a bag of candy coated crabs. Each hard crab was about the size of a quarter and coated with sweet miso glaze and sesame seeds. If anything, the sight of the foreign creatures would surely interest my family.
I didn't think they were too bad. Very strong seafood flavor. Not for the weak.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but this really freaked me out. I ran around frantically searching for gate 24, while Sami waited at our gate thinking that they might have confused the numbers. When I got to gate 24, there was an American couple in front of us who were not happy with their service and letting the poor people behind the counter know about it. I waited an uncomfortably long amount of time before approaching. Thoughts like: "What happened to who back at home?" and "What did we drop and where?" raced through my mind. Turns out that the page was for someone named Sam Aden headed to Bangkok.
Sami and I sat across the aisle from each other on the flight to Portland. It wasn't a big deal to us, but it is another example of something that seems to only happen on an American airline.
When we finally landed I was struck by how small the Portland International Airport now seemed to me and how big the people wandering around were. I was nearly always the tallest person on the subway in Seoul, and now teenagers were towering over me. We sat down for a minute to get on our laptop and I couldn't help but eavesdrop on a mother and daughter conversing at a table positioned behind me. I felt so intelligent just being able to completely comprehend what was being said.
We decided to grab a slice of Pizza Schmizza which had just opened minutes before at 9:00 a.m. I was blown away be how friendly the young girl behind the counter was. I even switched up my order after she had warmed my slice in the oven and she didn't bat an eye. I am not saying that Koreans are not friendly in the check out line, but let's just say it is a little more subtle. After our meal, a complete stranger, after watching me attempt to use the recycling engaged me in a ten minute conversation about the current recycling status and regulations at the Port of Portland. OK, so maybe my people can be a little too friendly sometimes. I really didn't care.
Here is the slice I ingested from Pizza Schmizza. Looks perfect don't it? I was surprised at how much saltier many foods tasted after becoming accustomed to Korean cuisine.
The flight to Boise was short and I slept through the young boy in front of me, probably the same age as my students, blathering on about NASCAR. Kids are so much cuter when you can't understand what they are saying.
The drive to Ontario from Boise really made me realize just how big and desolate the US can be. I reveled in the brown, burned scenery most people wouldn't even think to acknowledge. I became a little sentimental at the lazy, slow turn exit into my hometown. Not too much has changed. Wendy's burned to the ground, but there is an A&W now and even a couple of new sandwich places.
At my parents' place we were greeted by the dogs who ran across the lush green lawn my dad spent all summer nurturing. Even the wealthiest people in Korea wouldn't dream of owning land and a home as big as my parents' in the quiet, bedroom town of Ontario. Owning land is something uniquely American to me. I now realize how fortunate I was to grow up in such a privileged manner.
That night my parents hosted what was to be the first of many gut busting barbecues we would attend during our stay in the USA. This one was made all the more special because my brother and his fiancee flew up from Arizona to visit. We had chorizos, fried fish, mafa chukar and pheasant, grilled seasonal vegetables, baked beans, salad and a decadent caramel cake that Sami's stepmother made. I took a picture to commemorate my first meal back in the states. I served myself one fruit/vegetable plate and one protein/junk food plate. Unfortunately, no one really grooved on the crunchy crabs, so they were used as dog treats.
I gained six and a half pounds in a little over two weeks. Here is one reason why: Plate #1 (clockwise from top): mac salad (already half eaten), grilled squash and zucchini , watermelon, fruit salad. Plate #2: baked beans, Tim's Cascade Hawaiian Luau Sweet and Spicy BBQ chips, chorizo with mustard, onions, mayo and relish, and four pieces of marinated, battered and fried wild upland game birds. (Not pictured: everything I drank, a huge hunk of cake, a piece of cheese and a Hot Pocket I ate later)
My friend Sonny and his fiancee and baby boy were nice enough to stop by with a bottle of Chivas. The whiskey and heavy microbrews were a welcome respite from the flavorless Korean beer and soju of the past. The lack of solid sleep accelerated my buzz.
I went to bed that night with a bursting belly and a mind fuzzy warm with scotch. Lying in the soft upstairs bed, icy-cool air conditioner loudly humming. The transition home had been seamless. How could I not enjoy the forgotten comforts of home? The wide open spaces? The cool grass at night, the dry and cicadaless days? The air conditioner and the soft bed? Yes, this was a much needed vacation, and I intended to soak it all in slowly. Right after a good night's sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment