Love Me Once Again

Twenty-eight

We met up at the airport.

I was wondering how he was going to avoid the crowd and not being spotted by anybody.

When I saw him, I did not recognise him.

He wore a oversized tee and plain blue jeans. He had put on a cap to hide his bleached hair. Carrying just a simple backpack and wearing a face mask, he simply looked like any other passenger going on a trip, and not a celebrity.

When he walked up to me, then I realised who he was.

He let out a chuckle when he saw the look on my face.

We walked to the departure gate together, through the customs where he had to pull down his mask for verification.

If the lady at the counter recognised him, she did not show it.

We passed through easily.

Since it was still early, we stopped at a cafe in the transit area for a coffee. He kept his face mask on, though there was a couple of girls who kept checking him out. Either they suspect that he was an idol or he just looked good-looking with his features and physical appearance and they hoping he would remove his mask. But he didn't. He drank through the straw which he slipped under his mask into his mouth.

The flight was almost six hours. We arrived in Yangon two pm local time. Fortunately we had lunch onboard otherwise I would have fainted with hunger.

My mom had arranged for a local driver to pick us up. From the airport to the area where she was based, it would take another two hours of car ride so we would reach just before dinner, depending on the traffic and road conditions. Sometimes it was not so much about traffice but more of the road conditions especially if it had been raining. The roads would be wet and muddy and sometimes potholes. Vehicles get stuck for hours.

We waited for our driver at the entrance of the airport. It was crowded with many people waiting and moving in and out. There were also groups of tourists. One group got so close to us and kept hitting into us with their bags. Once, he pulled me closer to his side to avoid a burly man in his fifties as he was excitedly talking to his group and not noticing we were just behind him. If Jong Woon had not pulled me away, I would probably be bashed by his big backpack.

Our driver finally arrived and we hopped on gratefully. Halfway through, we both fell asleep. We woke up when the car honked loudly, waking us up with a jolt. I looked out of the window to see what had happened.. the driver was honking at a cow blocking the road.

The place that my mom stayed was the organisation's dormitory. It had been built specially for the missionaries and volunteers who came. Previously, they used to move around until they raised enough funds to build their own place.

My mom was waiting for our arrival. I saw her as soon as the car turned in.

"Is that your mom?" Jong Woon asked.

"Yup, that's her."

"She looks so young!" he gushed.

She gave me a big hug as soon as I alighted.

"This is Kim Jong Woon," I introduced them. Mom and I communicated in English mainly, though she could speak some Korean.

"Hello! Welcome!" she greeted him with a big smile. "You must be tired out! Come in, I'll show you your rooms."

She had given us two rooms right across from each other. Since this was a dormitory, the bathroom was shared and there was a curfew by eleven where all the electricity and water would be stopped until five am in the morning. People here wakes up early.