Black in Korea

First Day Out and Things Go Wrong

My arrival in this county should have told me that life here was going to be a pain.

First our plane was late. So we spent four hours at the airport in Wales as if Wales was trying to keep me here, cautioning me from going, giving me another chance.

It was either certainty or uncertainty. My mom got a new job and that certainty flew away.

I don't know what possessed her to become a model out in Korea as their beauty standards were something...

The pale faced asian women in the pictures were a stark contrast to my yellow skinned black Carribean mother.

I am on the darker side, however. A good cool coconut brown.

And yes, I already complained.

-- But mom, they won't have my foundation color.

--You can get it shipped to us.

-- But mom, all my friends are here.

-- You can make new friends and stay connected with your old ones.

-- But mom, the kids there won't like me.

-- But Dylan Jasmine Black, your mother is going for this chance regardless, and she will be making more money than now.

And that was the end of it.

I sit on the plane for about thirteen hours and boondoggle at the people for another hour at the airport as we get our big suitcases from off the coveyor. I am pretty sure they are staring back.

When we reach the taxi terminal, I am pretty sure the taxi driver we had overcharged us after failing to get a white couple into his taxi.

It was almost like he had to settle on us.

When we finally made it, we went inside to where we would spend a good long time inside.

Entering the code, the door stays locked...

Barring us from entering our new home.

"So now what do we do?" I ask my mother.

"Um, let me call the owners."

The owner says something in Korean, then walks up to my mother with a smile.

"Hello, nice to meet you."

"Hello." My mother greets. "This is my daughter Dylan."

I give a respectful but curt wave and then turn my head to focus on the rocks leading up to the gate and the driveway.

I don't even know how we are going to support this lifestyle.

The little old lady of an owner thanks us for buying the house and that no one has wanted to take it even if it was brand new and said she lives at the corner if we ever needed her.

"See, there are nice people here." My mother says, pinching my cheek.

"Fine." I groan. "But it is not like we understand the language."

"It's a change, of course, but I already got you a tutor for your classes."

I groan, but don't protest further.

My mother and I finally make it inside.

"Oh my goodness. It's even more spacious than I imagined!" My mother exclaims.

That is when a black cat proceeds to make itself known.

The cat hisses and arches its back, choosing its first victim it pounces on me and starts scratching and mewling angrily.