Asiana and Bibimbap
When we got to the airport, my carseat transformed into what I like to call my super-duty, range-rovin vehicle, or simply SRV -- my sweet first set of wheels. Quite frankly, it's a chick magnet. Grandma powered me along. As we entered the airport, I couldn't help but feel relieved. "Thank the Lord, I don't have to learn that language or that language or that language." The sounds coming over the loudspeakers were not at all familiar. But, I was in an airport again. Woo hoo! I love airports. First, there are lights EVERYWHERE. Second, there are lots of people, and if you thought Wal-Mart was the primo people-watching spot, you should try an aiport. Third, there are escalators and elevators.
As we made our way to security, I knew I was hungry. Mom simply wouldn't take the hint, and I was getting pretty darn irritated. Just as I was about to protest, we joined a long line of folks, and I completely forgot about my hunger for the moment. Interestingly, I felt out of place. Nobody quite looked like Mom or Dad at all. They all had black hair and "smiley" eyes. Furthermore, the ladies from the Orient must really dig strawberry-blonde dudes because they were certainly winking at me.
Security was typical. Once again, I was relieved that Mom didn't send me through the X-ray machine in the carseat. I listened as one of the TSA clerks condescendingly addressed my Dad, and I was impressed when Dad remained "cool as a cucumber."
Out of security and off to our gate.... Man, I was starving.....really starving..... Everything I saw looked like a "milkshake." "Cripes, Mom, please just pull over." Finally....
As we waited for our flight to board, Dad took me on the escalator. Someday, I'm going to stand on one of those things. Then, Mom took me to watch our airplane pull up to the gate. Whoa! It was an Asiana double-decker 747 jumbo jet. I was thoroughly impressed with its size. Other planes in the terminal were just as big. We watched Eastern China, Ana, and New Zealand Air pull their double-deckers to the gates.
It was time to board, and I was glad. The terminal was hot. Mom tried to keep me cool by unsnapping my shirt and pulling off my socks. But, I was burning up. We got on the plane, and it was still hot. Mom finally took drastic measures and got rid of my shirt. Phew! I was finally comfortable. She set up my carseat, and I conked out. When I woke up, we were flying.
I must admit that American stewardesses are downright slobs compared to their Asian counterparts. The oriental stewardesses flaunt feminity. They are all attractive, super-sweet, and dressed to kill. To put it bluntly, they were babes, and I flirted with every single one of them. Mom actually let them hold me. The entire time, I kept thinking, "Dang, I need to tell Uncle William about Asiana Airlines."
Mom and Dad ate dinner while I sat in my carseat. Dad had steak, but Mom decided to try the Korean dish: Bibimbap. Her meal came with an instruction booklet. I watched as she added steamed rice to a bowl of the strangest looking vegetables (sprouts, mushrooms, cucumbers...). Then, she squirted some sesame oil and hot pepper paste on the concoction. I guess she liked it because she ate the entire bowl and didn't offer me any. She had some weird-looking dehydrated minnows in another bowl. I nearly puked when I saw her grab a few and eat them. They looked like minnows from the ranch that had been left on a rock in the hot sun to rot. I guess they tasted like that too because she turned to Dad and crinkled her face after trying them. The kimchi must have been fair because she tried it a few times but left most of it. Dad liked his steak and cake. I wish he would have given me some of his cake.
By this time, Mom kept wiping my nose. I really dislike when people do that. To make matters worse, I realized that for the first time in my life, slimy stuff kept leaking out of my nostrils and wouldn't stop. Annoying! Plus, I couldn't breathe. Ugh.... Then, I just couldn't sleep or get comfortable. The only thing that would make me happy was seeing the stewardesses. They'd always come by and cheer me up. Seeing their smiles would make me forget about my nose.
Mom walked me around the airplane, and that's when I realized that American grandmothers are not as obsessed about me as Korean grandmothers. Whoa! It was like ants discovering a vanilla sundae. I was the sundae, of course. I liked all of the attention, but I was a little embarrassed about my runny nose.
As we continued flying, I realized that I simply didn't feel well at all. I finally fell asleep for a little while.
When I awoke, we had landed. The airport looked like many of the others I had seen. When we waited in line at customs, I felt like a super-star. Suddenly, I was surrounded by all of the oriental ladies. They gave up their places in line take a look at me. Man, I must really be something special. Unfortunately, I was feeling too crummy to muster a smile.
We got to the hotel at Osan, and I was pooped. Mom gave me a bath, dressed me in my warm pajamas, and put me in bed. It had been a LONG day.
And so, the adventure begins....
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