Meditation Day 10 – 22 minutes
Day 19
The ride to the airport is fun. How many years has it been… since someone dropped me off or come to pick me up? The last time I came to this side of the airport, I was leaving for Korea on my sabbatical, thinking I was never coming back. This time around, I’m leaving for less than 13 days, with every intention of returning to my favorite city.
Where are you going? Where are you coming from?
At the immigration line, boy and girl play and run from their mom and dad. Same age, different gender and race. Both vying for their father’s attention, and they get it, in turns. Wearing mismatched crocks. One pair army green another rainbow unicorn. “Unscrew this pole”, says mom, as the girl hangs back too long. I wonder why the Immigration staff won’t let them in front of the line, something I have seen being done in the USA. Boy falls behind and starts crying, “You left me”. “We will never leave you behind, we love you.” says the mom as she pulls him close to her chest. And just like that, he’s okay again.
“Where is your permanent residency certificate? You’re suppose to carry it.” The immigration official reminds me again. I’m sure to forget this.
At Addis Ababa, I am parched. I want a smoothie. A restaurant sells it for $12. A shop sells a 500ml watermelon juice for $8. It’s the most expensive juice I’ve purchased in a while, worth every penny. I wish I brought some of my dollars. The sweet watermelon quenches my thirst, before boarding the full flight to Incheon.
A man is sitting on the wrong window seat, having to move up forward. A heavy man who’s supposed to sit there yields the window seat to the grateful woman, leaving me unhappy. A big man, he asks if he can turn up the armrest. I say ‘no’. Funny, I just had this conversation with someone. Through the flight, I could feel our bodies touch, and I grab a exit card between us, craning my body towards the aisle seat. I sleep okay, having beef with rice instead. Not my favorite meals. I wish for salad or fruit.
I land the next day, feeling too full. Third airport in the last 24 hours. After buying an e-sim, I walk over to the bus ticket office. A man wearing square glasses walk towards me, his silhouette and face reminding me of my late father. It often jars me, being back. Seeing familiar faces from strangers.
I get on the bus, marveling at the best weather we’re having. It’s supposed to rain today, but it won’t. Only pouring on Tuesday, the day I’m supposed to work anyways, and I had no intention of leaving the co-living space.
My tarot card on the day of leaving reminds me to move on and move forward. The choice is yours. Leave or be left behind.
