Familiarity, like belching in public places, does indeed breed contempt. Familiarity breeds other things too, like dependence and comfort and relationships. Hilary, my college roommate, and I had no business being friends based on our perfectly contradictory Meyers-Brigg scores. After a year, however, neither of us gave a thought to finding someone else to live with. By year four, my favorite time of the day was coming home and hearing Hilary’s, “Well hey there, missy. How’s it going?”[1] The stress of the day—stress that’s unknown until the moment it’s gone—melts away with a greeting like that.
As I’ve mentioned before, familiarity is a hot commodity for travelers. We’ll pay top price for a real American-tasting hamburger over here, for instance, and this morning’s conversation with my parents on Skype was the best present of the holidays.
I’ve been a little stressed recently, what with my first Christmas away from home and a subsequent trip to Southeast Asia. Flights were cancelled and rescheduled; money was transferred and exchanged and so on and so forth; goodbyes were said and my bag was packed all of 2 minutes before I left for the airport.
I spent the hour and a half ride to Gimhae (possibly smaller than even Grand Rapids’ terminal) praying and playing calm music and trying to think of things I’d forgotten. I made all my transfers—from bus to subway line one to subway line two to airport shuttle train without a hitch and the only bump going through security was forgetting I had an Exacto knife in my backpack (30 cents down the drain).
I emerged into the terminal, and breathed a sigh of relief. The sun glared through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the uncomfortable landmarks of travel purgatory—rows of poorly-cushioned grey chairs, the Duty Free shop, numbered gates, and neon-numbered departure boards. “Well hey there, Gimhae. How’s it going?”
[1] That’s a Hilary-phrase that I probably didn’t hear until year three and a half, when we knew one another so well that our embarrassing colloquialisms rolled off the tongue like they do at home.
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