Good Luck!

'가도 되는 것일까? 꼭 가야 할까? 가는 것이 낫겠지.'

대학 졸업 후 자주 만나던 세 명의 친구 중 둘은 이미 결혼했다. 하나 남은 친구마저 결혼할 사람을 만나느라 바빴다. 친구들의 시간은 바삐 화기애애한 소리를 내고 흘렀지만, 나는 엘리베이터 안에 혼자 남아 어느 층의 버튼을 눌러야 할지 망설이는 듯, 정지된 시간 속에서 헤맸다.

누군가 가지 말라고 잡았다면 굳이 오라는 사람 없는 뉴욕행 비행기를 타지 않았을지도 모른다. 마지막 하나 남은 친구의 결혼식이 끝난 어느 화창한 늦여름 날, 나는 청치마에 하얀 블라우스를 입고 비행기에 올랐다. 엄마의 손을 꼭 잡고 김포공항까지 가는 내내 울던 울음은 비행기를 타고서도 그칠 줄 몰랐다.

차만 타면 멀미하는 나, 처음 타는 비행기는 차보다 멀미가 더 심할 것이라는 생각이 들자 울음을 뚝 멈췄다. 스튜어디스에게 멀미약을 달라고 하려니 노스웨스트 비행기를 탄 나는 ‘멀미’가 영어로 뭐지? 영어를 해야 한다는 생각에 정말로 멀미가 왔다.

한영사전을 뒤져보니 ‘feel vomit’. 스튜어디스에게 사전에서 찾은 대로 말했지만, 나의 말을 알아듣지 못했다. 사전의 영어 구절에 줄을 춰 줘서 간신히 약 한 알을 받았다. 약을 먹어야 하는데 ‘water’ 하니 알아듣지 못했다. 혹시나 해서 ‘orange juice’ 했다. 그러나 물도 오렌지 주스도 얻어 마시지 못했다. 또다시 사전에 줄을 그어 보여주기도 민망해서 멀미가 오기 전에 무작정 약을 입에 넣었다.

한잠 자고 나면 도착하겠지. 잠을 청하려는데 물이 없어 입안에서 씹어 먹은 약의 효능이 엉뚱하게 밀려올 줄이야! 혀가 마비되는 듯 감각이 없어지다 식도 주위까지 얼얼해져 왔다. 그야말로 환장할 지경이었다. 스튜어디스를 또다시 불러 그 긴 사연을 영어로 말할 수도 없고다 약 기운에 늘어질 대로 늘어져 마치 살기를 포기한 듯 눈을 감고 비몽사몽을 헤맸다.

부드러운 손이 나의 어깨를 두드려 눈을 떴다. 따라오라며 손짓했다. 일등칸으로 데려가는 게 아닌가. 그 자리에선 힘든 영어를 하지 않아도 신발도, 눈 가리게도 주스도 계속 가져다주며 편히 쉬란다. 가져다주는 대로 먹고 마시고 누워 시간이 지나니 마비되어 얼얼했던 입안의 감각이 되돌왔다.

비행기가 시에틀에 도착했다. 일어나 내리려는데 잠깐 앉아 기다리란다. 스튜어디스는 나를 입국 수속 하는 곳으로 데려갔다. 시에틀에서 입국 수속을 마치고 짐을 뉴욕 가는 비행기에 실어줬다. 비행기를 갈아타기 전 나를 의자에 앉혀 놓고 내 두 손을 꼭 잡고 기도해 줬다. 영어로 하는 기도라 알아들을 수는 없지만 ‘아멘’하는 소리는 알아듣고 나도 ‘아멘’ 했다.

헤어지기 전, 내 얼굴을 빤히 내려다보며 걱정하는 스튜어디스의 파란 눈엔 물기가 어른거렸다. 당황하는 나를 꼭 안아주며 “Good Luck.”하고는 가라며 손짓했다. 내가 미국에 와서 처음 알아들은 영어는 천사 같은 스튜어디스의 ‘Good Luck’ 이였다. 미국에 살며 무수히 많은 사람이 나를 도와주고 빌어준 ‘Good Luck’이 지금의 나를 있게 했다. 

My First 'Good Luck'

"Should I go? Do I really have to? Well, maybe it's for the best."

After graduating from college, two of the three close friends I used to hang out with got married. Even the last remaining friend became busy meeting someone to marry. While my friends' lives moved forward quickly with happy, cheerful sounds, I felt completely frozen in time. I felt like a person left alone in an elevator, staring at the panel, not knowing which floor button to press.

If anyone had held my hand and asked me to stay, I might not have gotten on that plane to New York—a place where no one was waiting for me. On a bright, late summer day, right after my last friend’s wedding, I finally boarded the plane wearing a denim skirt and a white blouse. I had cried the entire way to Gimpo Airport while holding my mother's hand tightly, and my tears wouldn’t stop even after I sat down in my seat.

I was the kind of person who got terrible motion sickness just from riding in a car. But suddenly, the thought struck me: “An airplane is my first time flying. What if the sickness is much worse than in a car?” Curiously, that thought made my tears stop instantly. I needed to ask the flight attendant for motion sickness medicine, but I was on an American airline (Northwest), and I couldn't remember the English word for "motion sickness." As the pressure to speak English hit me, my stomach actually started to turn, and I began to feel sick.

I quickly flipped through my Korean-English dictionary and found the words "feel vomit." I called the flight attendant over and said what I found, but she couldn't understand my accent. In the end, I pointed to the words in the dictionary and drew a line under them with my finger. Finally, she handed me a single pill. Now I needed water to swallow it, but when I said "Water," she looked confused again. Just in case, I tried saying "Orange juice," but I couldn't get water or juice. Feeling too embarrassed to point to the dictionary again, I just put the pill in my mouth and chewed it before the sickness got worse.

“I’ll just sleep, and I’ll be there when I wake up,” I thought. I tried to fall asleep, but the medicine I had chewed without water started to affect me in a completely strange way. My tongue began to feel numb, losing all sensation, and then my throat became painfully numb and tingly. It was absolutely terrible. I couldn't call the flight attendant back and explain this long story in English. Helpless and completely drained by the medicine, I closed my eyes and drifted in and out of consciousness.

Then, I woke up to a gentle tapping on my shoulder. The flight attendant was motioning for me to follow her. To my surprise, she led me all the way to First Class. In that space, I didn't have to force myself to speak difficult English anymore. She brought me soft slippers and an eye mask, and kept bringing me juice, gesturing for me to rest comfortably. After eating, drinking, and lying down for a while, the numbness in my mouth slowly disappeared.

Finally, the plane landed in Seattle for a layover. As I stood up to get off, the flight attendant came over and told me to wait for just a moment. Then, she personally walked me all the way through immigration. Thanks to her, I got through the complicated process smoothly, and she even made sure my luggage was safely transferred to my connecting flight to New York. Before I boarded my next plane, she sat me down on a chair in the waiting area, took both of my hands in hers, and began to pray. She prayed in fast English, so I couldn't understand the words, but I clearly heard the word "Amen" at the end. So, I softly whispered, "Amen," too.

Right before we said goodbye, she looked down at my face with deep worry, and I could see tears glistening in her blue eyes. As I stood there, deeply moved and overwhelmed, she pulled me into a tight hug. Then, with a warm wave, she said, "Good Luck."

The very first English phrase that truly touched my heart after arriving in America was that "Good Luck" from a stranger—a flight attendant who acted like an angel to a lonely international student. Looking back, during my long life in America, so many people have helped me and wished me well. It is all of those warm "Good Lucks" gathered together that made me who I am today.