“Group B, please board the plane!” the flight attendant said over the intercom. I glanced at the bold words, “Group F” and “Economy” on my ticket. The ticket was heavy, pulling down my whole body as I held it in my hand. This was the same heaviness I felt purchasing it with the money from a loan I got a few hours ago.
On the paper, the name, “Shaanxi” resting under “place of departure,” pulled my heart towards home – I couldn’t stay there though. Even while it felt wrong to leave, I held a ticket in my hand reminding me of the decision I was about to commit to. So, I reluctantly looked away from it.
As I scanned the waiting area, a panda trying to calm her anxious child caught my gaze. Her voice was sweet and soft as she spoke to her son, “We’re um…” She hesitated, “We’re going on a vacation ok.” She mustered a small smile and wrapped her arms around the young panda. She hid her tears behind his head because she didn’t know if they’d be ok. It seemed no one knew.
I heard a reporter on a television nearby, questioning our safety. He announced, “Airports are becoming flooded with pandas as they are forced to leave their homes. The government advised their departure earlier this month, but the question lingers: Where will they go?” The rest of his words trailed off as my ears took in the flight attendant’s speech.
“Group F, please board the plane!” I rose from my seat. Within two steps, I drowned in the flood of pandas going to board. Walking down the long metal tunnel to the plane felt like a vacuum – pulling me away. This was supposed to be an escape to safety, but as I walked further into the tunnel, it felt wrong.
Nevertheless, I sat in my seat assuring myself that this decision was best. I knew I’d be leaving things behind; friends, possessions, and favorite places. I could find new things.
“Maybe in Malaysia, they’d be better.” I hoped.
Except I couldn’t replace my family. Their memory clung to me like tree sap.
Looking at the land below us in the plane reminded me of the day they were taken away. The bare land lay lifeless, littered with tree stumps and branches – a result of the Loggers. Images of children materialized on the ground. They climbed trees until their grandmothers told them it was time to eat. Those images faded away as the plane flew further from home. I went to sleep thinking about the beautiful forest that used to be there.
Eventually, I was snatched back to reality as the flight attendant’s cheerful voice came over the intercom, “Welcome to Greece!”
I walked off the plane, still tired, to my next flight’s waiting area. My heart beat like a drum as I looked around at all the different animals. I was overwhelmed by everything and I felt like I didn’t belong. I realized that I had never left my village before. The bamboo trees marked the end of my adventures as a child, never letting me go beyond them. As I sat down in the waiting area, I realized that this was all new to me.
Once my group was called to board the plane, my heart raced. I hoped the next flight would be quick as my realization set in.
“Even the air is different.”
Soon, a tiny Pangolin climbed into the seat beside me. He placed a large newspaper in his lap and then turned to me, noticing me watching.
“I’m Mr. Pang,” He said smiling.
His glasses seemed too big for his face while his smile took the rest of the space.
Startled, I hesitated then responded, “I’m Fu Bao.”
He adjusted his glasses and flipped the newspaper open to begin reading. I stared at the comedic scene of him and his newspaper. I wasn’t sure if the paper was too big or he was too small but he and the newspaper were the same height.
“Have you never seen a Pangolin before?” He asked, noticing my gaze, and placing the newspaper between us.
“No… I haven’t,” I stuttered, embarrassed.
“Well, you’ll be comforted to know,” he began “I’ve never seen a Giant panda before.” Then his voice quieted and continued “Even though you aren’t very giant.”
Curious about the Pangolin, I continued the conversation.
“Why are you going to Malaysia?”
“Well, little panda, I’m returning home.” His smile beamed as the words released from his mouth.
“You live in Malaysia?” I asked.
“I used to, a few years ago, until I was forced to leave.”
His words summoned the weight I held earlier in the first airport.
“I’m sorry,” were the only words I could say. I wanted to say “It’s ok” but I wasn’t sure if I’d be talking to him or myself.
“What about you little panda… Why are you going to Malaysia?”
I let the words slip through my lips like butter, not knowing their weight.
“To find a new home.”
His smile faded as he frowned, showing his confusion.
“Do you think you belong in Malaysia?” he asked.
A long silence fell upon us as the words hit me like a fallen tree and I realized there was only one place for me.
“No,” I said clearly, “I belong at home. I belong where the bamboo grows tall and the air is sweet. Where I can walk outside and see pandas like me, but now my home is gone forever.
The Pangolin turned and smiled,
“Home is not a place, but somewhere you can thrive! Where you are beloved and you won’t need to cry. Home is in your heart, in your soul, and in your ‘I.’ Just give it time, little panda, and home you will find.”
Written by Judah Bannarbie from Suffolk, VA
