The Journey Home: That time when I got really good at sitting down.
- Dec 24, 2015
- 4 min read
It may or may not be know that I was born in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. I was adopted by my lovely parents Karen and Larry Weaver. (Just in case you're reading mom, I love you. There I said it. Anywho.) I was made aware from a very young age that I was adopted. Throughout the years I had expressed interest in returning to the city to experience my heritage and explore my culture. So, for Christmas, my gift was the trip of a lifetime.
The beginning winter break, we shipped of from our hometown of Chattanooga, TN to begin our long flight series to the motherland. We flew from Chattanooga to Charlotte. From there, we were supposed to board the flight to one LAX. However, at the previous airport, someone failed to tag our bags correctly. We had to go to the service center and track them down. Turns out, they were still sitting on the tarmac, waiting their poor little hearts out to be taken back to their owners. Several phone calls and ages of anxiety later, we managed to acquire the little devils and hurried off to the terminal. The time was nearing for our flight to leave, so we raced across the airport to hopefully not get left behind. Let me tell you. Nothing will wake you up like taking a frantic run through the airport to catch a cross country flight. Starbucks needs to step up their game. As much of a pain as it was, I knew that was a sign that the trip was going to be one heck of an adventure, and by heavens I was ready for it.
After our arrival in Los Angeles, we decided to pop a squat and die for a few moments. Once we collected ourselves, we hunted down some food (AKA nom noms) because we were both getting hangry. Nobody wants to experience our hangry. So we found a taco stand and bought the fool out of some tacos. Who knew California had some expensive food. Maybe it was airport price? I don't know. Regardless, I feel sorry for you Californians. Should I ever become president, I will lower taco prices for all.
By and by it came time to board the flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo. I was super excited because I've always wanted to see Tokyo. Once we boarded, the flight map flashed upon the back of the headrest. 12 hrs and change it said. Oh my gosh my body was not ready for that nonsense. Though I suppose it was better than rowing so I braced for the ride. I'm fairly sure I watched every darn movie on that flight. The scenery wasn't much for entertainment considering everything out the window was some shade of blue. It just so happens that the ocean doesn't vary much in color. Couldn't somebody in first class have paid for that to happen so I could've had more entertainment? I digress.
Finally it came time to land. My legs were basically falling off at that point, despite walking around our spacious 10 feet of walkway and doing awkward squats by the bathroom. Much to all of our dismay, the weather in Tokyo was not going to allow for us to land. I guess it just wasn't feeling visitors that day. So our flight was diverted south to Osaka. After mere couple hours more, we finally touched ground. I've never been so happy to see land in my life. To appease the tired and angry beasts we had all become, they shipped us off to a hotel to stay the night and we would resume our flights the next morning.
Once everyone had a pleasant rest and became human again (insert "We'll be Human Again" sound bit here for comedic effect), we traveled back to the Osaka airport to board the final flight to Ho Chi Minh City. Woo! By this time it had been a hot minute.
The plane flight was only 2 hours and change. Thank heavens. Unlike the other flights, the meal they served us was the most amazing sky munchies I've ever let my taste buds touch. It came out of the storage container in a metal tray, that's right, a metal tray, piping hot and steaming with goodness. I opened my glorious dish to reveal fresh rock fish, steamed rice, vegetables, miso soup, noodles, fruit that was most definitely not from America, a mochi ball and of course, green tea. Mmmmmmm. I slept the rest of the flight over.
When the captain sounded that we would be landing soon, I piped up and immediately took a peek out of the window. There before me were miles of flat, outstretched land. Yes there were rice patties in abundance, but there was also a massive up and coming city. Metal spears climbing higher and higher into the sky. We swirled around the expanding fingers of civilization to a nearby airport that appeared just large enough to land a few planes without killing anyone. We touched down.
At last we had arrived. I zipped as fast as I could of that little tin can of a plane. I tried to ease my way down the stairs without tripping over myself, not want to experience the forces of gravity at that particular time. I reached the bottom. All at once I stepped into the swimming pool of humidity and heat that was the sauna of Vietnam. I stopped. I looked. Everywhere around me were faces of strangers, new vegetation, new buildings, new everything. I soaked everything in. I was in another home. It felt so natural. It felt like I belonged. I stood and thought to myself in silence, not noticing my mother wander up beside me. A smile wider than the expanse of the pacific rolled up my cheeks. Half to her an half to myself I spoke,
"This is it."
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