Unveiling beauty " Ambw"

If tomorrow rains

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Nani•2003 -2005

When I first met Ha-na. I was nine years old. Just as curious then as I was now. Maybe even more as I stepped off the plane into the expanse of LAX, tired and weary from the long flight from Ghana.

The terminal around me fled about with activity. I could hear the cacophony of announcements over the intercom, the shuffle of countless feet on the dirty tiles, and a symphony of different languages punctuating the air. The warm, artificial lights of the airport reflected off the glossy surfaces, creating a slightly surreal atmosphere that only accentuated my disorientation.

Toward the terminal exit, I spotted a small figure tucked behind the more substantial presence of a woman. It was Ha-na. She peered out timidly, her wide eyes taking me in as I walked towards her. The soft overhead light shadowed her in a soft highlight as it was highlighting her youthful features, somehow it was making her dark, curious eyes shimmer with excitement.

A board with my name scrawled across it was held aloft in Ha-na's aunt's hand, she was a middle-aged woman at the time, her hair wrapped up, she dressed in vibrant colors and had a habit of wearing a scent of welcome and ease within her aura like it was just who she was. She naturally gave an island of familiarity in what was a sea of strangeness.

As I approached, Peeking out from behind her aunt, the tiny figure appeared again, Ha-na smiled as she waved. She was dwarfed by the towering adults rushing around her, yet there was a defiant spirit in her stance like a small but resolute tree weathering a powerful storm. A colorful explosion amidst the dull grey and browns of the adult world, she sported a vivid Hannah Montana shirt - a testament to her love for the popular TV show. The graphic of the pop star, wielding her microphone like a sword, emblazoned the front of the shirt, sparkling under the harsh airport lights.

The shirt was complemented by a sparkly, pup role skirt, flaring out around her small waist. The skirt danced around her knees, twinkling with every movement she made. It wasn't just an outfit, it was a statement of her vibrant personality and youthful exuberance, a statement of color in a sea of monochrome.

Her hair, a dark chestnut brown, was neatly tied into pigtails, each swinging onto the side of her head like playful springs. What stood out were the bright pink extensions that were weaved into her pigtails. They lent an added splash of vibrancy to her overall appearance, making her look like a tiny pop star that had just stepped off the set of a music video.

With a shy, almost hesitant gesture, she extended her arm towards me. Not knowing what else to do, I stepped into her reach and found myself enveloped in a hug. Despite being only nine years old, the significance of this moment wasn't lost on us. The laughter bubbled up in both of us as we released each other, stepping back and drinking in our respective appearances, our nerves morphing into shared amusement.

Ha-na's aunt knelt, her eyes called me in with warmth and kindness. She hugged me tightly, her hands squeezing mine in a comforting grip. As she looked into my eyes, she said, "We are glad you got here safe." Her voice was soft, her English tinged with the melodic lilt of her Korean accent.

I could only manage a faint "Me too," in response, drowned out by the yelling of family greetings all around us. In my Jeans and simple green shirt with a rabbit on it. My box braids in a ponytail as I walked beside these new strangers into a car.

The weeks that followed my arrival were a blur of new experiences and lessons. Ha-na's aunt, Eun-Hye, and Hana became my stability amidst the chaos of my transition into American school life.

Every evening, after a long day of navigating unfamiliar classrooms and deciphering foreign customs, I would find solace in the Kim household. The scent of tteokbokki - spicy, chewy rice cakes - would greet me as I entered, a delicious aroma that permeated every corner of the house, wrapping around us like a comforting blanket.