Whenever I’ve heard about flights oversees, I end up getting two words stuck in my head: Long and Boring. My trip, however, was of the unheard-of variety. I slept almost the entire way. My mom- or Eomma as I should get used to calling her- woke me up thirty minutes before landing to show me some sights from the sky. As any ordinary teenager would do, I pretended to look interested, trying hard to keep my heavy eyelids open. Still, they managed to flutter quite a bit.

                She pointed carefully to a field of green down below, “That over there is where my grandmother lived until the day she died, when I was about eleven. She lived such a happy life, with her large crowd of children, and then grandchildren. Gosh, our family is so big it’s embarrassing. Just you wait, my dear daughter.”

                As we arrived into the airport, voices rang out from a loud speaker. It took me a moment to adjust to the quickly spoken Korean, but eventually I picked up the basics, “Hello and Welcome to Korea.” The words were repeated in English to ensure that people of my capabilities could understand. I got it, thanks.

                We packed up our small, carry-on things and headed out, by way of the claustrophobic line to the exit. As I hit the door, I knew one thing; I was not in America anymore. Where was my Toto when I needed him for this was the perfect Wizard of Oz moment, with me, the new and improved Judy Garland, dressed in the famous outfit of a white and blue dress with darling red slippers? No, we were not in America anymore; a blind man could figure that one out. The smells drifting in through the stagnant air reeked of warm, spicy cuisine. I lifted my nose into the air. It was a whole new world.

                “You’ll get used to it, Ma Eum.” She spoke in Korean to me, “And you’ll like it, I swear on my life. In the meantime, however, let’s take a detour and hit up some food vendors. I’m sure there’s something you haven’t tried here. Which will it be:  raw fish or seaweed stew?” I shrugged; neither of them I minded although raw fish at an airport didn’t sound like the safest decision, I nodded towards the seaweed stew vendor and carried on, solemnly, behind my mom.  

                The summer before senior year was supposed to be different from any other summer of my existence. Something magical was supposed to happen, as it did in every romantic comedy involving teenagers. Girls and boys would hang out at parties and fall in love for a summer fling.  In this season, romance was  in full bloom. It floated through the air in likeness of cupid’s arrow, and stung every adolescent around. Unluckily, it missed me. The air held no romance, here, because  it was too thick with the smell of kimchi.

                Summer was meant to be spectacular; however, this was not how I pictured it.

                Yes, I was being a bratty youth. But, to my defense I had no idea what the next few months would bring me. None at all, and I wasn’t prepared for the “Magic” that was to be beholden later. I kept telling myself that good things would happen all in good time. How long would that take?

                We grabbed a taxi and headed into a quiet neighborhood. Into the driveway of a gigantic house, we parked, and there I stood, beholding the rest of my future, dumped on me like bucket s of rainwater on a stormy day. My mom stood there, smiling. I had to smile too, for her sake, but my emotions were turning into one jumbled mess.

                Suddenly, there was shrieking. “Omo, omo, omo” I heard from an elderly lady, probably my grandmother from the way she resembled the pictures, “Is this handsome granddaughter mine? Is it she who I’ve never had the good luck of meeting? What do I do when my daughter leaves to stay in America, has a daughter and leaves me to hear about it only in phone calls? Oh, come here you.” Taking notes for later, I remembered two things: One, she’s loud and two, she likes hugging.: a lot. She strangled my waist with surprising strength for an old woman. Out went the air, leaving my lungs left with nothing, and I gasped for air, desperately.

                “Hello, grandmother.” I said in the happiest tone I could muster. Death by hug was not how I pictured my parting, but it seemed quite possible, right now. She held me for what seemed like hours before I managed to breathe out in a raspy voice, “Grandmother, you’re squashing my lungs.”

                Her eyes overflowed with the look of guilt and she let her hands fall to her sides, stepping back to take me in, “You’re quite a beauty, Ma Eum.  The pictures your mother sends don’t do you justice.  This hair of yours, though, it’s incredibly unique, isn’t it?” She laughed as she ran her fingers over the top of my curls, “You surely stand out.”  The door creaked open and an older man walked out, giving me a critical eye.  He adjusted the tie on his tightly tucked green shirt before heading towards my mother. He greeted her with curt bow before heading out from where we’d come in. “That’s one of your uncles.  He has a meeting to attend, and I’m sure he’ll have more manners, enough for a friendly greeting, when he gets back.

                Following my uncle through the door was a horde of people, old and young, all staring directly at me as though I were some museum painting of rarity. “Annyeonhaseyo.” I said, bowing as was proper for greeting new people. Certain people from the group attracted my interest. I located all of those who looked about my age. I could point out at least a handful of teenagers. This was a turnaround in the situation; I needed someone to show me around and teach me the ropes.

                More so, I needed a familiar face in Seoul. One of these kids would have to do.                        

                In return, the crowd bowed back at me and my mother beamed proudly to my left. One person, however, did not bow, and I found him very peculiar to disobey tradition and Korean manner. His eyes were fixated solely on me, but he didn’t say anything, nor did he even move. I walked up to the crowd and towards the boy, “Um, hey, are you okay?” I accidentally spoke in English, before repeating the sentence in sloppy Korean. I stepped forth even closer and waved over and over his face, but no reaction was detected, “Is there something wrong with him?”  

                I smiled, jokingly, but one cousin’s face displayed sincerity only, “He’s normally full of chatter. Ya, Ki Seok, what’s the matter with you? Talk to her.”  Swiftly, she smacked him in the rear, giving the boy a jump and a wide eyed surprise. “There we go. Ki Seok doesn’t seem normal: not today, I see. At least he’s alive though because, for a second, I was worried.” I looked at the Ki Seok, but he seemed distracted, staring at the dirt, kicking it with some enthusiasm. What was this guys problem?

                “Hello, I’m Lee Iseul.” The girl greeted me, her long hair falling all over, “ I’m your cousin, but I’d much prefer for you to consider me as your sister. I’ve been alone with three brothers for the longest time. Can you imagine what that does to a girl’s head? I wish I could be an only child, like you, Ma Eum. Wow, I’m already talking to you informally. I feel I’ve grown up with you. I’m around you’re age, though, so we’ll become good friends. ” I nodded and smiled sweetly, immediately feeling drawn to her rather than her crazy brother or any of the other gawking cousins. “Don’t worry about them.” She noticed my confusion, “The majority of them don’t get out much so they don’t meet new people. The young ones, in particular, only know the family. You’re like an alien to them.”  She clapped and signaled the children to approach me, and an eruption of chatter sounded around me. Somehow, they were all asking questions at the same, all directed at me.

                I tried to find my mother, but instead I found that the older people were gathered around my mother, probably talking about serious matters that meant nothing to me. In a similar manner, all of youth was chattering about around me. I couldn’t keep up with the swift-spoken Korean, yet again, and I just stood there, blowing my hair away from my face in puzzlement.  There was a tap to my shoulder, “Sorry for my moment of shock.” It was the boy from earlier, Ki Seok.. “I didn’t expect my American cousin to be so beautiful. I was distracted by your stunning eyes.” The English words spilled out of his mouth in complete awkwardness. It was obvious this boy had gotten these jumbled up lines from a pick-up line book; and it was also obvious that he had been dumb enough to pick the greasiest line.

                I rolled my eyes, saying with clear articulation, “Listen, I’m not interested. I’m your cousin, meaning that’s completely wrong and disgusting. Besides, no girl would fall for that trick. You’ve probably used it on every girl in the neighborhood, if not, all of Seoul ‘Your eyes are so beautiful?’ Give me a break! I can think of better with my eyes closed. How old are you anyways?” In English, I added to myself, hoping nobody really knew my language, “Sick Bastard, thinking he can get along with the newbie. Think again!” His eyes, already wide at my mean reply, made me feel like a superhero shouting his or her famous catchphrase at an overcome enemy. I was so proud of myself.

                Of course, every superhero has a weakness. Superman had his kryptonite, and my unknown identity was mine. For years, I’d thought myself sure that I was an American. And now, for one summer, I’m into the identity I’d tried so hard to ignore and throw into the back of my mind.

                Superman had problems with his identity, as well, right? He was Clark Kent and, in the next moment, Superman. He was the same person and, yet, his two personas were nothing alike. One was a daring, bold and confident man who could save an entire world, and the other was a mere man, stuck in the trivial happenings of everyday.

                Today, I didn’t feel like Clark Kent. I felt like Superman. Making a good impression was important for me to do, for my mom, right? It was best to start right away.  “If you’re only going to stare at me, go somewhere else. I don’ t need to see you being creepy.”

                I heard slow clapping, “I already like this girl. Bravo, Ma Eum, bravo. I think we’re going to get along quite nicely if you can be comfortable putting down my brother like that. Let’s go inside, though. It’s too hot out here. I’m breaking into a sweat, can’t you see?” To be honest, I didn’t see anything but an ordinary forehead. There was no drop of perspiration anywhere, but she expected me to say yes, so I just nodded, expressionless. “No one will ever marry me if I’m gross like this! I’m doomed.”

                In the distance, I heard someone yell at her, “Shut up. You’re too overdramatic.” It looked like it was her mom. The woman had wavy black hair, cut short, and glasses. Most obvious, though, were the furled eyebrows knit together on her forehead, exactly the same as in Iseul. Their expressions mirrored one another in their frustration with each other. At this, I had to laugh; it was simply too comical. The sudden lift in my mood also changed Iseul’s mind and she turned away from her scolding mother to pull me by my wrist, into the house.

                I did not know that the entire parade of children followed behind me like a crowd of pigeons following a woman with birdseed. Until we reached a large sitting room with toys scattered about, I almost forgot about the young ones entirely. Then, as we sat on a dark green couch, one of them bounced onto my lap. Soon, there were six or seven of them fighting for my attention, screaming about whom I liked better- even though we’d only just met- and I, myself, wanted to cry.

                “You’ll get used to it.” An older child, seemingly ten or eleven years old, whispered into my ear. She pulled each of the toddler’s off of my lap and practically threw them to the floor, glaring at them. “Do you really think she wants a bunch of drooling babies all over when she just got here? Go away.” This kid was my savior. 

                After shoving all the kids out the door and slamming in their faces, she took a seat next to Iseul and sighed, “In a family of at least one dozen kids, you only get two good- three good eggs?”

                Iseul threw her arm around me and another around the younger girl, pouting, “Luck is so screwed up.”