Crying in Incheon Airport

Every time I leave Korea, I feel a heavy weight pulling me into the ground. Every fiber of my body wanting to stay.

“How much was it?” my grandma kept asking as she touched my new purple hoodie I bought for the colder fall temperatures Korea was starting to experience. I didn’t pack a lot of thick clothes since I arrived in hottest, most sauna like summer and was not planning to stay as long as I had.

“How much was it?” she asked again as I avoided the question.

“Do you want me to buy you one? Do you like this color? They have other colors.” I replied in Korean.

“How much did you get it for?”

I know she wanted this hoodie. I thought about giving her mine but I also needed something thick to wear on the airplane ride back to the states.

With a few hours left until I had to catch the Incheon Airport Bus, I ran out of the apartment and hopped on the 2 line subway to Lotte World Mall to buy one for her. I liked the idea of my grandma and I having matching sweaters, too.

It was a gorgeous day and I appreciated being outside walking around the beautiful city of Seoul one last time, atleast for a while. After buying her the same purple hoodie, I rushed back into the apartment and presented it to her. She loved it and the color looked fabulous on her.

With 30 minutes left to spare, I dumped the rest of my unpacked stuff into my luggage, speed cleaned my bedroom out, and zipped all the bags. In my head, I imagined that there would be time for me to just sit with my grandma and be with each other but suddenly, it was 4PM and my uncle was Kakao messaging me to come downstairs so he could drop me off at the bus station.

How is it already 4PM?!? Why the fuck haven’t I spent more time sitting with her like this?

We’ve shared cups of tea together and I sit next to her on the sofa until she dozes off for her naps but it wasn’t enough.

My grandma put her head on my lap and said that she’ll see me next year and will stay alive until then. (She jokes about dying. I don’t know why.) Leaving my grandmother is one of the hardest parts about leaving Seoul.

Without having a moment to look up at the apartment complex one more time, I was already seated in my uncle’s car with my suitcases. The bus would arrive at 4:20PM and it was 4:16PM.

Having missed the green light to turn on the main road, my uncle cursed under his breath. The traffic light to exit our apartment complex is known to take forever.

I gazed straight at the cross walk watching the Korean pedestrians all head different directions. I didn’t feel anxious or any sense of time being wasted waiting for the light to change.

I thought if I held my gaze strong enough then I could hold this moment and time will stop. I wanted it to stop, anything so I could stay here a little bit longer.

“Do you have cash for the bus fare?” he asked. In my peripherals, I could feel him look at me, it was the longest he’s taken a close look at me since I came over 2 months ago.

He parked in the bus lane, put on the hazard lights, and unloaded my bags.

“Ok, this is where you’ll wait. It should be here soon.”

I went to hug him tight and without thinking, I said mumbled what I felt— “thank you for letting me stay here.” And the tears came. I’ve had this sense of unworthiness that my family would be OK to house me.

“What?”

“Thank you for letting my stay here,” I enunciated my Korean words a little stronger and motioned in the direction of our apartment building some blocks away. Now I was full on crying.

“What do you mean, 할머니 집인데. (It’s grandma’s house)” he said in a sort of “don’t be ridiculous” kind of way.

I gathered all my suitcases around me and waved at his car as he drove off. I waited for the bus and cried until it came.

The bus stopped right in front of me. Before I could verify the bus number, a tall Korean man with high energy and Gentle Monster sunglasses hopped off and walked straight towards me. “What terminal?”

“Incheon Airport,” I said.

“Yes but what terminal?”

I grabbed my phone and looked up the airline terminal to confirm. “Terminal 1.”

He opened the side compartment of the bus and loaded all 3 of my suitcases in like 2 seconds. Shut it close and then hopped into the drivers seat of the bus.

“Can I pay with cash?” I asked and handed him a 50 bill and waited for change.

I sat in an empty row and cried the whole bus ride until I eventually fell asleep.

At the airport, the Air Premia staff were doing pre-boarding check-ins down the waiting queue to help get everyone checked in faster. Even though I have a preference for English, I am always spoken to in Korean first and I assume it’s because I look like I speak Korean so I get it.

“Are you traveling by yourself?” she asked as she took my passport and flipped it open.

“Yes.”

“And what’s the reason for your visit to Korea?” she looked up at me.

“Family.”

I could feel the tears come again. God. Why does that word just carry such WEIGHT?! I tried to hold back the tears but I also got Botox 2 days ago so my face felt a little sore by doing this.

“Can you confirm there are no powders, lithium batteries…. or liquids… in your carryon? Are you okay?” Her eyes went back and forth between mine.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” I wiped my nose and let the tears flow. “I’m just sad to be here right now.”

Seoul was kind of like “home” when I was a child, having spent every summer running around the playgrounds in the apartment complex, going to the neighborhood bathhouse, and frequenting Lotte World in Jamsil. Even back then, I LOVED it as a city. It’s clean, easy to navigate, and of course, being half Korean and speaking the language helps.

I think these last few years seeing my grandma and uncle get older and older hits hard though. I just want to hug them closer. Seoul continues to be a place that I consider one of my homes because my grandma and uncle are some of my closest family after my father.

I will always have ties to Korea. The emotional connection I feel to the city is strong and I’m lucky to have an incredible community of people in Seoul whom I love. So, so lucky.

I miss it so much.