Start Again

Chapter Three

"Wo ist dann mein Gepäck?"

I didn't know what he was saying, but I extended my hand to take the suitcase from him. His gripped tightened. "Mein," I tried saying again. "Bitte. Ist mein."

"Nun, es ist gut, Sie haben bei Ihnen, aber wo ist mein Koffer?"

"I really don't understand what you're saying. But please give me my bag," I said to him.

He kept talking to me in German. There was nothing I could say to make him quiet. I had to grab it and run. But first I'd have to distract him. So I pointed my finger and shouted, "Look over there!" The moment he turned his head, I yanked the suitcase out of his hand and ran off in the other direction.

Once I thought I was far enough away, I came to a stop and doubled over. This was not a good start, but at least I hadn't lost my language. Who would have thought when coming to Korea I'd struggle with talking to a German. Just my luck.

It was time to find customs now. I wondered through the airport, looking at the signs on the way. As I rounded a corner, a very long line caught my attention. Following the mass of people to the front of the queue, I noticed a sign that read "customs". A sigh escaped my mouth. I noticed people who got off after me from my flight at the front of the queue. A whole plane had arrived whilst I was chasing down my luggage. I could have been out already if things when normally. This was going to take a while.

I finally made it through customs and was on my way out of the airport when someone bumped into me, knocking me to the ground.

"Oh shit! Hey!" I called out, but the guy had already started running. The contents of my handbag had scattered everywhere. This was not going to be a good day. My eyes started to sting. I wanted to curl up next to my mum and dad and cry about everything going wrong. But I immediately shook away the thought. I had to be strong. I decided to move here to get away from everything. I wanted to become strong and not depend on anyone. And that meant I'd have to deal with rude people on my own.

A figure appeared in front of me and started gathering my things. He handed them to me with a smile.

"Thank you," I mumbled, taking them from his hands.

"It is good," he replied.

It suddenly dawned on me that I spoke English to a Korean. "Oh! I mean, gamsahamnida!"

"You speak Hangukeo?" he asked in Korean.

"Ne. I just forgot momentarily that I am in Hanguk and should speak Hangukeo." I brushed my hair out of my face. This was turning out to be one hell of a day. Losing my luggage, caught at customs, and now I'm struggling to string sentences together in Korean. What if I couldn't do this? I put everything back in my bag.

"Where are you going? Can I help you bring your luggage to a taxi or where ever you're going?"

"Oh, that's okay. You don't have to." The offer warmed me slightly. Unlike the German guy, this person was being rather kind. But I couldn't be touched by this. I couldn't rely on people to help me.

"I insist." He got to his feet and put a hand in my eye sight.

Reluctantly, I looked the man in the eyes. My heart nearly skipped a beat. It was what I dreaded: meeting a man my age and being attracted to them. Every guy I knew back home was so familiar that my dead heart could not be swayed. Never mind that I had been so focused on Adam. Most men at home avoided hitting on me because I was Adam's girlfriend, Adam's ex, they had known me since primary school, or because they knew with everything that happened, I'd never be interested. I had become the talk of all my friends, and their friends. I was off limits. But something about being in this new country made me momentarily forget all that. For a moment, this guy's round face, clear complexion, and comforting deep brown eyes made me want to swoon. But the awe passed and was replaced by weariness. Who was this guy making my heart skip a beat? What type of person is he? Is he the type of guy who moves on as quickly as Adam? Would he too not show up at the hospital when I was about to go through a traumatic experience that women never want? Would he too eventually tire of me and get mad at me every time I cried because I had lost something from within me?