Levi Laungayan
Melinda Schroeder
English Composition 101
10 October 2016
Melinda Schroeder
English Composition 101
10 October 2016
In the middle of the winter just before the holiday season my family and I boarded a plane to cross international waters. I had never been on a plane before so I sat with white knuckles clenching the back of the seat that was too close for real comfort. For the first part of the trip we were well taken care of. We ate chicken drenched in gravy laid on top of wild rice just after take off. The seat in front of us provided each passenger with movies to choose from as well as safety instructions to prepare us for the flight.
As I gazed out the window watching the city disappear along with the Space Needle that always marked our coming home my excitement grew. I could hardly sleep waiting to veiw my father's homeland.
Hours drug on and excitement started wearing off as I tossed and turned rubbing my legs to try to regain circulation in the area that had now fallen asleep. If only I could sleep the time away like I use to when we would drive in the car as a young boy.
Ten hours after boarding the plane we arrived at our transfer point. We had 40 minutes to get off one plane and on another. Running through the airport just to stand in such a long line that seemed too long to pass through in time to make our plane woke me just long enough to exchange a little of our currency into Yen and get a drink settling again on another plane.
We got on the last plane and set in for another 6 hour journey. This time all the information we recorded was rained iffy in the languages. We were served ice cream and warned curve covered brownies. Meals are in abundance but I could barely eat you tired and too excited to venture into a land where jungles are a Normandy part of the scenery and drivers have no rules.
When we got off the plane it was 12pm, winter time, and it should have felt ice cold. It would have if we were home, but the air was hot and dry. In the middle of our Thanksgiving holiday we were standing in the midst of coconut, and mango trees and the night air was as warm as our summer air.
Hours later we arrived at my father's childhood home. It was 3 am yet we were greeted by family anxious to meet us. They prepared instant coffee for us and served us warm pandasol bread, with rice. The welcome was as warm as the food they served us and it tent like home to all of us.
Not long after we arrived we went out to the rice fields to see what they liked like in person. We were unprepared for what happened next. My father, who is always so serious at home demonstrated how they use to play in rice fields after the rice harvest. The ground was still slightly damp and dirt clumped in piles that were slightly hardened. He picked up the first clump and flung it towards my brothers and I. The fight began, and continued until we ran laughing into the stone house holding the spots that had been hit and were stinging with pain. The fun had been worth the momentary pain.
Inside this home there was no inside plumbing would eat together, laugh together, sing together for the next 10 days with no access to any technology or commitments that would interrupt us. We made so many memories during that trip, that we found it hard to return home and we can’t wait to return in 2017.