Safe and snug back in my apartment!
And it's still super tough to travel for that long, but I can definitely say that the return trip to Korea was easier than the trip to America.
Daddy and I learned that you really don't have to be 2 and a half hours early for an early AM flight leaving from Alabama because there are no lines. We waited for an hour before there was even a staff member available to check in my bags. But I got to talk more with Dad that way, so it was a win.
We had to take out 10 pounds worth of Reeses cups from one of my bags because it was overweight--Mom and I had weighed the bag at home, but she had helped me lift it a little, so the reading was off. But after a little shuffling through the luggage, it was back to normal weight.
When I went through security, I remembered how it felt to go through it the first time. When I went through airport security in August 2013, it felt like I was going to another planet from which it wsa doubtful I'd return. Almost more than actually landing in Korea, going across the airport security line felt final back then. It was interesting to go back through the exact same line and not feel dramatic about it at all--just part of the trip.
The flight from Huntsville to Houston was on one of the little puddle-jumper planes that would be terribly uncomfortable if you had to fly in them for very long. The problem with the little planes is that I can clearly see how little they are. I feel like if I leaned really far out of my seat, I could touch the other side of the plane.
It was coooold on the inside, too, making me glad I'd worn my coat. Like cars, planes have to be warmed up on cold mornings, and ours was also having an ice-melting solution sprayed over it. Soon we were off.
In Houston, everything looked familiar because I knew something about the layout of the airport. I still couldn't find anywhere to use my computer, but I had a little prepaid phone to call home and let them know I had landed. I found food based on which restaurant had the shortest line, and I got mentally ready for the big flight ahead--Houston to Tokyo was going to be 13 hours.
Houston to Tokyo was 13 hours, but it was an easier flight than Seoul to San Francisco had been at 10 hours. Because the plane I was in had TV screens on the back of every seat, not just located above the aisles. I could pass time by watching infinite airplane movies and thinking about how I'd alter their scripts to make them better.
Some Scripts Are Unsalvageable--Others Just Need Fine-Tuning.
Also making this trip better was the fact that I had an AISLE SEAT. I got up 6 times during the trip, all without disturbing anybody. And I learned that after you visit the lavatory, you can just hang out in the back of the plane, standing and stretching your legs. The flight attendants don't care, and you're not in anyone's way. It does a world of good for leg cramps, just standing for a few minutes. I didn't do that on my first flight to Korea because I didn't know what airplane etiquette was.
On the Houston-Tokyo flight, I was seated next to two Korean college boys. As everyone got settled into the plane, they were talking away in Korean and I figured I should come up with some way to let them know that I could understand some of what they were saying--it felt like eavesdropping, even though all they were discussing was the time difference between Houston and Japan.
So after a couple minutes, I turned to them and asked "학생들이에요?" (Haksaengdeulieyo?) or "Are you students?" They confirmed that yes, they were college students, and one of them told his friend I was pretty, even though they knew I could understand them. I said that I lived in Korea, and told them the name of my town, which they actually knew. They asked if I went to a certain college in town, but I told them I taught English at a middle school. The whole short convo was in Korean, and that's all we said to each other for 13 hours, but I was proud of myself for initiating a conversation in Korean.
I can only exchange a few sentences, but I can chat with new people in my second language! Wheeee! The only difficulty was I didn't know which verb ending to use with the college boys--if they were high school students, I could use 반말(banmal), the informal style, and if they were about the same age I'd use 존댓 (jondae), the formal style. But they were just in the gray area where I didn't know how formally to speak, so I went with jondae anyway, closing my sentences with "요"(yo). That's the fun bit about Korean; you have to adjust the way you speak depending on your age, relative to the person you're speaking to.
I did try to sleep. I tried like a trooper. I used my special neck pillow plus the tiny in-flight pillow, and turned my head every which way. Then after trying one position for a while with no results, I'd reshuffle all my stuff and snuggle into another pose.
To No Avail.
I got maybe one hour of sleep out of the whole enterprise. I could chalk up no sleep on my first two overseas flights to nervousness or excitement, but after three times, I begin to think that I simply have irreconcilable issues with sleeping while sitting up.
Not sleeping did, however, afford me the opportunity to see other people sleeping in all sorts of contorted positions, some of which made my sleeping style from the last international flight look downright normal.
One woman was bundled inside a giant winter coat and spent most of the flight with her legs thrown sideways over the armrest, out into the aisle. The couple across from me had an empty seat between them and they took turns stretching out over it, effectively making the middle seat into an actual bed. The college boy next to me leaned his head forward and slept that way--head hanging straight forward, with no prop or pillow. I watched other people fall asleep sitting up, then catch themselves in mid-fall.
I Was Essentially the Only One Not Doing This.
Not that this particularly earned me any Awesome Points. Nobody noticed. It wasn't like the other passengers were going, "Who is that cool girl in 42-H? What amazing posture! Just look at all the sleep she's not getting!" But it made me feel better that I looked mostly human for the duration.
I did make the mistake of drinking the cups of water the flight attendants offered--my huge water bottle had finally run out and I was thirsty, but as my grandmother had warned, the cups of water on the plane were clearly just sink water. Taste tells. I few minutes after drinking the water, it made my throat burn and I was sick to my stomach. So next long flight, I'm bringing two water bottles.
Narita Airport in Tokyo was surprisingly full of Americans. About half of the crowd at the airport were foreigners, and English was the language I heard most. I found a currency exchange and got some dollars flipped into yen, because it was the first time I'd been to Japan and even if I was just in an airport, I wanted souvenirs.
Four Thousand-Yen Bills, Front and Back View. About 40 Bucks.
Japanese yen feel kind of like the opposite of Korean won, because while 1,000 won is $1, 1,000 yen is $10, and the thousand-yen bill is (I think) the smallest bill they make, so there is no dollar-bill equivalent. In Korea, we have the equivalent of $1, $5, $10, and $50 bills, but no twenties or large bills. In Japan, the bills seem to be all 10s, 50s, and 100s, plus a lot of little coins.
This is Ten Bucks in 3 Different Currencies--Dollars, Yen, Won.
It was interesting hearing the airport announcements in Japanese, because it was an intriguing "foreign" language, while Korean sounds homey and is something I can halfway figure out. In the little airport store, I tried to buy souvenir things that were both very small (so i could fit them in my carry-on) and which seemed distinctly Japanese, because most of what they had in the store was stuff we have in Korea, just with slightly different packaging.
I Went With Hello Kitty Rainbow Figurines.
Plus some Japanese chopsticks--which are more rounded and quite different from Korean chopsticks--with bright colors and cat designs. And some erasers shaped like sushi. I also got these special Royce refrigerated chocolates that had to be kept in a sealed bag with a cold pack, to keep them from melting.
I had seen these in a K-drama, but apparently they're originally a Japanese brand that just opened their first store in America in 2012. They came with a coating of bitter cocoa powder and a little stick for prying apart the individual wedges without getting chocolate on your fingers. These things were groovy and special! Too bad I had to eat them all for dinner.
The Tokyo to Seoul flight boarded, and I was seated next to the same Korean college students! This time, I was sitting nest to two of them while three of their friends had the seat behind us. The boys waved happily to me and when one of them told his older friend that I had sat by them on the itnernational flight as well, the older guy announced it was a 대박사건 (Daebak sageon) or "Jackpot event/ lucky coincidence". Again, we didn't talk past my asking in Korean why they'd been in America and them replying that it was just a winter vacation trip, but I talked! I asked a question!
The flight was just over 2 hours, and it was okay. though I could tell I was slowing down, physically. I wasn't exhausted, but I was working with limited energy.
I kept running through my mental list of things left to do:
1. Land and go through security.
2. Get baggage
3. Somehow get to the hotel room Mom booked for me (since I was arriving at 9:30 PM, and trains to my hometown wouldn't run until 6 AM, leaving me in Seoul for all that time.)
I got into a wonderful English conversation with a Korean woman in her 60's--she had lived in the states for 30 years and was getting to visit her sister for the first time in 7 years. She was awesome. We talked about everything in the world and for the half hour it took us to get through customs and baggage claim and everything else, she had adopted me. It's so nice to meet lovely people.
We parted ways, and though she said her family could drive me to my hotel, I insisted that I could find it on my own. It was not entirely true. None of the hotel brochures in the airport matched the name of the hotel I had written down and the girl at the information desk couldn't reach the hotel at the number provided.
So I have a hotel room somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight. I just don't know where the hotel is, I have a non-working phone number for them, and my Korean phone doesn't have enough bars to use the internet and look the place up.
The Frustration, It Burns.
And as I learned on my trip home, when I get truly exhausted, I get angry. After 30 hours awake, I want to make decisions based on how upset I am. Last trip, I nearly stayed all night in the Houston baggage claim out of a stubborn desire to Not Move Any More. I wanted to hop on the metro to Seoul Station and stay the night there, forgetting about the un-find-able hotel.
Then I reminded myself that that was an eminently stupid idea. I'd be miserable in Seoul Station, undoubtedly staying awake until the dawn trains began to run. I told myself this had happened before--I had thrown an internal hissy fit before, and had been rewarded for calming down and being patient enough to go to the hotel in Houston. The same strategy would work again.
I trundled outside with my extensive luggage and a nice man who worked for the airport found me a taxi who could drive me to the hotel, a couple of miles away. I spoke some Korean to the driver, and he seemed to think it was precious that I said I was "Sorry that I was really really sleepy".
In the hotel, the girl at the counter spoke perfect English and directed me to a very nice room. It was a holiday, so I couldn't order food, meaning that I had to eat my special chocolate for dinner.
As Dinners Go, They Weren't Bad.
The cab driver was muttering to himself about why I had so many bags. I told him they were full of presents from my mother. I directed him to my apartment, but he kept insisting that I must be an exchange student at Korea University. After much persuasion, I was able to convince him in Korean that yes I did know where I lived and I knew how to get there. This is why you must learn how to give directions in Korean--because someday a taxi driver will not take your word about where you live unless you can repeatedly confirm it in your second language.
I got the bags upstairs, video-chatted with my mom, then slept for 12 more hours. About now, I feel like a person again.
And So Glad to Be Home!
Because this is home, too. Home is where my family is and home is also where I decided I want to live. By now, it's Sunday morning and I plan to go to midday Bible study with the girls in town, then make sure I have movies ready to play for the kids during the next two weeks where we close out the semester before taking another two weeks off.
Travel is crazy, but it's gotten easier. I'm not afraid of getting lost anymore. And I feel like I trust God more. I'm remembering more to take time to thank the Lord for what I have. On the flights, I was really uncomfortable, but I was able to talk to the Lord and thank him for my circumstances--the fact that I was going from one wonderful place to another wonderful place.
I'm very well taken care of, and my heart is full of thankfulness.
