A Traveler

A Traveler

I honestly didn’t think that I would ever do this: Inviting a stranger to my home. After all, my home wasn’t anything to brag about, nor was I gifted with the attribute of hospitality to others. In fact, that title belonged to my older brother, who was currently in Amsterdam, Netherlands, studying for his master’s degree, in a university that was, as I heard, established by a former Prime Minister of that country, about 140ish years ago. 

When I was walking down the street, I heard some things clattering. It sounded like utensils and plates inside a backpack. If this was the normal me, I would merely go on my path, ignoring the person that I just passed by, but something was peculiar…

Usually, I don’t get curious, but something intrigued me, and I had to turn back to that person, and I saw that she was carrying an oversized backpack, and wearing little worn-out clothes, and I felt compelled to help her until,

‘No, no, Charlotte, remember the last time you did that… That person just spit out violent words to you…’ 

The last time somebody caught my eye, and when I tried to help him, he bellowed out nasty things, swear words and profanity that I’ve never heard of, and it stuck with me a bit. Due to that trauma, I decided to go my way until… 

That woman turned back at me… But when I looked back at her, I could see that she wasn’t an ordinary person. Even though on the outside, she was wearing worn-out clothes, and looked like she hadn’t had a bath in about a week, her smile was genuine. You don’t see that in the city a lot, and you’d be lucky to see at least one person that smiles on their way.

To be honest, and by common sense, it seems ridiculous to smile when you know you’re headed to the butcher, that is, your workplace, the office. 

Which I totally understand. But now, I was curious of this woman, and set off to ask her, if she would stay a day or two at my home, but she approached me. 

“Um, Miss?” She asked very politely. 

I mean, you can’t act cruel to that, right?

“Yes, ma’am, what’s the matter?” I asked with about the same amount of politeness. 

The woman sighed and with a bow asked me, “I know that I might be asking too much, but as you see, I am a person who travels. May I spend a night at your home if it’s possible? I promise I’ll make it up.” 

I pursed my lips and thought about it. What should I do? This strange woman, whom I just met, but on the other hand, my senses were telling me to invite her and welcome her, so that I serve her, and as I said at the outset, hospitality wasn’t my forte. But since I was already thinking of inviting her to my home, I accepted that voice that was telling me to do so, and decided at once, “Sure, ma’am. I am honored to invite you into my humble home.” 

We went to my car which was located in the parking lot of my workplace, and we headed for a 30 minute drive back home, in the suburbs of the city where I worked. 

We were silent on the way home, until something caught my eye: It was a copy of a music album from 1977. 

Curiously, I took a look when we were at a red light until… 

“Miss, the light changed.” 

I suddenly came to my senses and put the car on drive and accelerated, and when we came to my home, a very modest townhouse in the suburb with two rooms, I opened the garage and after parking, turned off the ignition. I went to the elderly woman, took her bag amid her protests and guided her to the living room. 

After I turned on the light to the living room, I grinned, “Well it’s not much, but welcome…Um….” 

The woman, who caught a whiff of things, took a hold of my hand, and shook it, “It’s a little late, but my name is Seong Gyeong.” 

I shook her hand and said basically, “My name’s Charlotte, ma’am. Charlotte Park.” 

We were in the same boat; I mean, I think we had the same experience. When you meet someone who looks Asian, and when you realize they have the same roots as you do, you feel a sense of home in your heart. 

But first things first, I led the elderly lady to the bathroom, with the comment, “Please be free to use everything in the bathroom, ma’am.”

She appreciated the gesture and nodded. I on the other hand, went to the bathroom with only the shower and made myself formidable. After a quick shower, I made my way to the living room and turned on the TV to see that I had left it on the retro music channel. A melancholy yet mellow tune was coming out from the speakers, and I realized this was that song… That song Ms. Seong Gyeong had a copy of in her bag. That song from 1977.

I went over to the kitchen to prepare a meal for the two of us. This time around, I went to my refrigerator to take out some red pepper paste, kimchi and some leftover side dishes that mom gave me back last week. Sigh… 

Even at this age? It looked like parents would be parents and children would be children. 

I giggled to myself until I heard Ms. Seong Gyeong say, “Miss Park, I think we’ll have a great meal tonight, but could you please let me use your kitchen to make some home-made dishes?” 

I suddenly felt some tears come to my eyes and nodded. Ms. Seong Kyeong seemed to catch sight of it, for she came to me and hugged me. Now, I had been hugged before by friends, family, and my boyfriends, but this felt different. The heat of this woman felt like it was penetrating me softly, gradually. It was comfortable, and after this elderly woman made me sit on my own chair, she went to work. I could hear the sounds of frying, and boiling. I could smell some bean-paste stew, something I haven’t even taken a whiff in about a year or so. That was a bit complicated to make, so I rarely made it, and when I do want to eat it, I would take an hour drive to the nearest Korean restaurant.

I tried to do something useful, until Ms. Seong Gyeong merely made me sit back down. It felt like I was being pampered, and I enjoyed it greatly. 

When the elderly woman set out the side dishes, the bean-paste stew and Korean pancakes, all hot and mouth-watering. Ms. Seong Gyeong chuckled. 

She sat down in front of me and looked like she was praying. Sigh… Typical church goers….(?) 

“Let’s dig in!” She cheered, and I couldn’t agree more. We went ahead with eating, and after some silence, Ms. Seong Gyeong said, “When I saw you on the sidewalk, I couldn’t wonder but help thinking: ‘Has this young lady gone through too much in her life?’ So that’s why, with some courage myself, I wanted to stay at your place and offer some help… That’s why I prepared some of my trademark dishes, please enjoy!”

I felt some more tears come down from my eyes… It was the first time in a long time where someone wanted to invite me to let out my heart to him/her. 

As I ate my dinner, Ms. Seong Gyeong and I started to talk over the meal, and she pointed out some things that could use some improving, but as a whole, she offered me comfort and rest that I sorely needed for the last fifteen years. 

Something that I asked myself while receiving all of this was, 

‘This isn’t by chance like they always say… How did all the situations align so well that I was able to receive such healing I needed?’

But… I knew what the answer was, and what to do next. I just hope that I have the faith and courage to do so. One thing was certain though, and that was that I had hope now. Hope that things would be better, and that I would have a true home to go back to. 

The elderly woman and I spent the night talking in Korean and English about issues, and that was the start of a great mentor friendship.