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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() Every winter break, our family would go back to Korea. We never missed a winter trip there, and we would always visit Grandma’s house a few kilometers south of Seoul. A few years ago, we arrived at Incheon after a four-hour flight from Manila. The December evening in Korea rested just over zero degrees, just some clouds floating by in the sky. The air was dry, my nose slightly hurting from the cold. I wore a thick sweater and some gloves. I had changed into these clothes during the flight, from a short-sleeved shirt to a long-sleeved one At the airport, the long airport road stretched out in front of the exit, some cars waiting for their family to arrive. There were some airport buses to the city, with long lines of passengers standing in the line. Flight attendants wearing coats with the blue and white uniform inside The sky was already dark as winter days are much shorter than summer days - the sun would rise at eight and set at five. My mom bought the tickets for bus 4000 to Grandma’s apartment, and I waited at the bus stand with my brother. Dad went off to the convenience store to buy some snacks as I watched the cars go by. I breathed in and out warm air and the quickly condensed vapor floated upward like steam. Sitting on the bench on the bus stand platform, I held onto the long handle of the luggage bag, to not have them slide away. Dad came back a few minutes later, carrying a small plastic bag with a small bottle of coffee, strawberry milk, and chips. After another few minutes, the bus arrived and I carried my backpack onboard the bus with my brother.
As the bus started moving forward on the road, I saw roadside trees lined up on either side of the eight-lane road. The trees didn’t have leaves, only the branches spiking upward. The bus got onto highway 110 that connected Yeongjong island to Songdo, and passed over Incheon Bridge. Cars slit past the bridge, with the red taillights coloring the road red. In the distance, I could see the skyline of Incheon, the lights of the buildings blurred out to the light sea fog. I looked out the window to the left and saw the rushing of the cars going in the opposite direction. After a few moments, I saw a few spots of white specks floating onto the road. Melting to the heat of the cars and wetting the asphalt. Near the end of the long bridge, the specks of snow got bigger, about tenth the size of a cotton ball. It took us just over an hour to get to Suwon, just the dull view of the road and cars rushing by the window. We stood up at the stop in front of Grandma’s apartment and got off with a heavy step. After unloading the bags, we crossed the pedestrian crossing with a throbbing heart. Grandma would be waiting for us. She would have cooked dishes for us. We would enter her house and greet her with a hug. Comments are closed.
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May 2023
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