注：中文版本在此

It was the early summer of 2020, on the other side of the globe, in the dead of the night, when it wasn’t long before I should leave the small city of College Park. The journey back home was being covered by COVID-19 as far as the eye can see. Though knowing the assuring fact that our destination is our homeland, the thought of leaving our “safe harbour” still kept me awake.

Two hours of sleeplessness was spent, and the moment of the reluctant departure arrived with the merciless tick-toks of the clock. The several minutes we spent wearing masks and stuff were also the last few minutes we spent in this place which I’ve never had the chance to call “home.” Then, taking various bags and stuff, Dad and I locked the door of our apartment room for the last time.

We took the elevator. Time in even the elevator seemed so long at such a time of leaving, and the sound of friction, once noisy, seemed almost musical now. Several months ago when distance learning hadn’t started, I used the elevator to get down as well. How I wished that it could have sped up back then! But now also in the elevator, I just wanted to spend a few more minutes in it……

Walking out from the building, I felt breeze coming, cooling down the hot summer night. Street lights glowed gently, as if lighting the way for people away from home. Pastoral Simon turned up on time, taking us to the airport. Although I’m not a Christian, I found our situation somehow similar to a scene in Bible.

Baltimore, the largest city in Maryland, was still covered by darkness. Waving our old friend goodbye, we continued our long journey back home. Despite the fact that the morning hadn’t arrived yet, Baltimore-Washington Thurgood Marshall Airport still saw long queues of people waiting to pass the security check. Then we set off to Atlanta, another large city.

The dawn of a new day had already taken place of darkness upon our arrival. The sun rose, bringing vigor into everything. The scenery was awesome but none of us was quite in the mood for watching, as one of the longest air routes ever awaited. Several hours passed, and then we boarded the plane to Incheon.

Neither was I in the mood for watching the Boeing 747 we took although it is such a miracle in the history of aviation. This was because of the fact that we would undergo a suffering of 16 hours — a dark cabin, and time wasted within. Without anything to do, I could only stare into space with my pale eyes, killing the long time. A journey that was supposed to be relaxing turned into suffering.

Incheon, a name unfamiliar to me at the time, has the biggest airport on the Korean peninsula. Upon our arrival, all I saw were clouds, dying the sky a deep gray. Such a color also reflected our mood. A small room was what we stayed in. Upon entering we immediately disinfected several important things. The alcohol we sprayed vaporized quickly, giving a familiar scent. Then we set off to find food, but to our surprise, all the restaurants were closed despite the fact that it wasn’t so late, so we had to eat the snacks we bought. After another hour, it was time for bed. After turning off the lights, the room went pitch black. The electric alarm clock gave off a little light, and the air conditioner made some slight noise. All of this created a peaceful atmosphere which was nothing like the cabin which was filled with noise created by engines. Not knowing how much time had passed, I fell into a long sleep so valuable for me, who had gotten no more than half an hour of sleep for the past 25 hours.

The flight from Incheon to Xiamen was the only international flight in this long journey back home. It felt like that we already had a foot firmly stepped onto the land of our country upon boarding this Xiamen Airlines flight. The ride was merely longer than two hours, but another hour passed while waiting after we landed due to epidemic prevention policies. Soon night arrived again and we were taken to Huaixue Hotel for isolation.

After a 14-day isolation, we were merely more than an hour by air from our home, but an hour seemed just like a blink of the eye compared to all that rides and isolation before. It wasn’t so long before we were back home when my vision blurred upon seeing the familiar faces of Mom’s and my sister’s.

This long journey back home connected my home and College Park, a place I never had a chance to call “home”. Being a holder of my precious memories, I’ll never forget about this small city in Eastern US and those memories. What I also cannot take out of my mind is the summer of 2020, when I left her to have a long journey back home.