When I was in Seoul preparing to study abroad in America, I went through a list of universities. Out of all the schools, Adelphi University—which sat right at the top under the letter 'A'—instantly caught my eye. I learned that the school was located in Garden City, Long Island, which was the very setting of the movie The Great Gatsby starring Robert Redford and Mia Farrow. Just imagining myself living inside those beautiful, classic movie scenes made my heart race with excitement.
“Yes, I’m going to Garden City! I’ll start my brand new life there.”
However, when I finally arrived in Garden City with a fluttering heart, those grand, beautiful mansions from the movie were nowhere to be found. Instead, I was guided to a somewhat shabby, red-brick dorm building located on the edge of the campus to unpack my bags. To make things more surprising, my first roommate was not a blonde, blue-eyed American girl. She was the daughter of an African tribal chief, with very dark skin.
She showed me a world that was completely different from what I had vaguely imagined—which was barefoot African people dancing in minimal clothing. The wedding photos she showed me featured people dressed in elegant, beige gowns and tuxedos that contrasted beautifully with their dark skin, standing proudly in front of a palace-like mansion. She pointed to her husband in the photo and told me that he would be coming to America soon.
Starting my American life in New York—and in Garden City of all places, the stage of The Great Gatsby—with the daughter of an African chief! Seeing my life head in a completely unexpected direction, I felt a strange mixture of emotions.
At first, I was a bit scared. When I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom, my roommate's head, covered in pink hair rollers, looked bumpy and monstrous in the dark. Moreover, her white teeth flashing against her dark skin looked like a ghostly light in the shadows. On those nights, I would pull the blanket all the way over my head and stay awake until morning.
But during the day, she was a completely different person, making my nighttime fears feel silly. She was incredibly polite, intellectual, and above all, warm-hearted. She was the one who kindly helped me get my Social Security Number (SSN) and open a bank account in this strange new country. She always went with me to buy necessities and looked after me during my clumsy early days of studying abroad. Then one day, her husband from the photo actually showed up on campus wearing a beige suit. And just like that, we said our warm, sweet goodbyes.
After she left, a Thai student around my age became my new roommate. I was secretly happy to have a fellow Asian roommate who looked a bit like me, but that hope shattered in just one day. The culprit was the strong scent of cilantro, which she chopped and tossed into almost every dish like green onions. The smell was so overwhelming and nauseating to me that I couldn't bear to stay in the dorm room. I had to wander the streets every evening. I would sit blankly on a campus bench to pass the time, or walk the long distance between the school and the dorm—a route I usually took the school bus for—just waiting for her to finish dinner. In the end, without ever catching a glimpse of those beautiful scenes from The Great Gatsby, I had to pack up and leave for yet another place.
It seems that wandering spirit—the feeling of always needing to go somewhere new—is still with me today. Yesterday, I drank a bit too much, swept away by a silly but exciting daydream that I might cross the Atlantic and live there someday.
On days when my stomach feels empty after drinking, nothing beats Vietnamese pho for a hangover. Nowadays, I even take my husband’s share of cilantro and pile it generously into my bowl, adding plenty of spicy sauce as well. I blow on the hot noodles, take a big mouthful, and gulp down the spicy broth.
In that instant, the sharp, refreshing scent of cilantro fills my mouth and softly spreads through my whole body. Feeling this familiar aroma brush past my nose, a quiet smile comes to my face. I find myself remembering that old time when my heart fluttered just looking at the letter 'A' for Adelphi University—and I think of my own, beautiful Great Gatsby.