Into the Unknown: My First Trip to America

Unlike China, America had always been a place I only knew from TV shows and movies. It felt like an unknown world on the other side of the planet, filled with people who looked completely different from me. I had always been curious about it, yet somehow I had never thought of it as a place that someone like me could actually go.

Then I was given a long vacation in October.

While thinking about where to travel, a friend told me that every year he treated himself to a trip somewhere in Europe. Laughing, he said he spoiled himself a little too often.

Then he asked me,

"Yewon, your English is good, you're single, and you're free to travel. Why not use this long vacation to visit somewhere you can only go when you have enough time?"

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

It was my favorite season of the year.

I had enough money to travel to America.

And my English was good enough to take care of myself there.

So why had I always assumed I couldn't go?

Perhaps it was finally the right time.

Maybe this would be the year I would finally visit America. If so, I wanted it to be California—the place everyone says is filled with sunshine.

Even after that, my mind kept changing.

Wars pushed airfares higher. Sometimes I wanted nothing more than to disappear into a meditation center for a while. Other times I thought I should simply save the money and reach my financial goals sooner.

The reasons not to go kept multiplying.

Whenever people asked about America, I simply replied, "I'm still thinking about it."

Then one day I watched Incoming Voice Message on Netflix.

The story was set in California.

The protagonist endured overwhelming grief and a world that seemed determined to stand in the way, yet continued moving forward one step at a time until dreams became reality.

It was a familiar story.

But this time, it reached me.

I wanted to sit on that bench and look at the Golden Gate Bridge at night.

More than that, I wanted to bring the ideas that had only existed inside my head into the real world.

Around the same time, I started taking driving lessons.

Oddly enough, I don't even own a car.

Part of the reason is simple: if I ever live abroad, public transportation may not be as convenient as it is in Korea.

I don't want to be trapped anywhere.

I want to be able to drive wherever I want, whenever I want.

One day, I hope to travel around the world as naturally as I travel from Sinchon to Gangnam.

That life starts with preparing today.

When the day finally comes that I rent a car and drive through California myself, I think I'll be amazed—not because I'll be driving well, but because I'll realize that so many limits I believed about myself were never real.

Holding that steering wheel will feel like holding a larger version of my own life.

Eventually, I decided to go.

Thankfully, I found reasonably priced tickets.

Strangely, when I clicked "Purchase," I didn't feel afraid.

Instead, it felt as ordinary as taking the subway from Sinchon to Gangnam.

The moment I took one step forward, America stopped being a fantasy.

It became somewhere real.

There's a line from Everyone Is Fighting Their Own Sense of Worthlessness that says,

"Everything my voice can reach belongs to me."

For me, it means something slightly different.

Everything my feet can reach.

Everything my eyes can see.

Every place I have truly lived becomes part of my world.

Since I'm fortunate enough to be alive, I'd like to keep expanding that world, one place at a time.