Homecoming pt 4

h o m e c o m i n g

part 4
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ATTENTION!
Again, just to let you guys know that this post is slightly different from any other posts you'll find in this blog. It's rather writings-heavy. So if you're not really into long texts or can't stand of reading a great deal of writings, simply skip it and wait till I finish all the parts. But for those who are curious enough and will to read it, you are more than welcome to do so. Enjoy!

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When I got into the airplane, I plopped down to my seat. Much to my disappointment though, I forgot to request the window's seat. Instead, I was placed in the middle, between an Asian girl and a scrawny tall man with long blonde hair and fierce Harley-Davidson-rider-ish look. Also, although it was not a surprise anymore, the airplane provided no personal entertainment equipment usually installed in each seats. So I began to think what I was going to do for the next fourteen hours ahead. Well, reading a book and sleeping might be the best solution.

So there I was, sitting in my seat for as long as I could remember. I tried to make short conversation with especially the girl that sat next to me by the window. But it was very short because I believe she was also tired, and so was I. Sometimes I woke up a little bit just to watch what movie was played on the huge screen in front of the cabin section. I vividly remembered that they played Charlie St Cloud over and over again.

Since there was nothing much to do on the plane, I decided to spend the rest of the flight sleeping and only to be woken up by a flight attendant that notified me it was already time to breakfast and dinner. Whether it was breakfast or dinner, I couldn't tell the difference, because everytime I opened the window lit to see if it was bright or not, it was always dark. So dawn or evening, I could care less. Something strange happened to me on the plane.

The first meal served was dinner and I was literally woken up by the nice flight attendant, who meaningfully stared at me and threw me a question in Mandarin. Since I heard her mentioning “fan”, which means “rice”. When the flight attendant stopped with an expecting smile, I told her “Fan”. Then after asking the Harley-Davidson guy and the girl next to me, she put a meal set on my table and moved on to another row. It was inevitable for me to accept the fact that I did look like a Chinese.

At that moment, I thanked my mom for gradually implanting me with basic Mandarin words. I never had a formal background when it comes to Mandarin. My mom – who is of a Chinese descendant – speaks really fluent Mandarin. Therefore I instinctively picked up the words my mom often says and tries to ask her for translation. “Fan” is one of the words that I picked up, and at the moment I succeeded to convey my Mandarin sayings to the flight attendant, it brought a particular satisfaction to me.

Even though some people often said that airplane food was plain and tasteless, I found it quite delicious in some ways, maybe because of the humidity on the air. The humidity drew thirst and hunger to me, that's why when I was exposed to any kind of food onboard, I would be more than glad to receive it. No matter it was my favorite or not. Although the breakfast food was a bit weird. Not the food entirely, but the omelet in specific. I simply tasted nothing but a plain omelet before I decided to sprinkle loads of salt and pepper on it – something I rarely do.

t o b e c o n t i n u e d . . .