Growing up with two older brothers and a mom that loves the ocean, it is safe to say that I had a very active childhood, spending the summers at pools and beaches, running around playing with my brothers and being challenged to pick up sand from the bottom of the ocean to be able to get ice cream. We would split our time between Rocky Neck State Park in Niantic, CT, a family friend’s pool in Montville, CT, the town pools in West Hartford, CT, and East Beach in Watch Hill, RI. While I would spend countless hours running around having the time of my life at those places, my most vivid memory of water comes from the Courtyard Marriot pool in Albany, NY.

 

       Every summer for a few years I would make the long journey up to Albany to attend Camp Mujigae, a camp for Korean adoptees. We would hop into long days of learning about Korean culture, making Korean food, learning traditional Korean fan dances, and eating all the mandu and kimchi we wanted. For those few days in the summer, the younger campers would stay with their families in the Marriot while the older kids were able to sleep in the dorms at the Sage College of Albany. When I was 7, I made the trip up for my second year of camp. My entire family went, including my older brothers who would spend the days at the pool or exploring Albany while I was at camp.

 

       When my dad picked me up from the second to last day of camp, all I asked for was to swim in the pool. For the first few years of camp, the pool had been the highlight. It was this inside pool, not too big, heated to a comfortable temperature with a tile dolphin at the bottom. I begged my parents to bring us down to the pool, despite being exhausted from playing traditional Korean drums all day. After a few minutes, they finally agreed. My mom and I spent the afternoon at the pool along with about a dozen other campers and their parents. My mom sat on the pool deck reading a magazine while I challenged one of my camp friends to touch the dolphin at the bottom. The deck was made of hard, tan tiles, the room enclosed by glass. The room was full of screams and chatter, our voices bouncing off the walls. There was a large rack of fresh towels and a bin for dirty ones, as well as a few pool toys such as some rings and two noodles. Behind the towels was an oddly placed garden, including a raised bed of tropical-looking plants and trees as well as a few annual flowers. The water of the pool was this light shade of turquoise with underwater lights shining bright, causing the tiles of the dolphin to sparkle. The water was thick from chlorine, giving off that classic hotel pool smell and rolling off my skin slowly and leaving a slight slimy feeling. I was young, so none of this bothered me too much. 

 

       After a while of swimming around and pretending I was a mermaid on a secret mission, a wave of exhaustion hit me. I had been running on pure adrenaline and excitement from the fun day I had earlier at camp. I told my mom I would be getting out, a dry, white hotel towel with a singular blue stripe waiting for me. As I climbed up the ladder to get out, I moved too fast and my foot slipped, causing me to fall on my face in a blink of an eye. When I was younger, I had a very high pain tolerance, so I didn’t feel anything but a big ache in my mouth. I saw the look of horror on everyone’s faces, my mom rushing over to me with a few other parents while others grabbed towels. I looked down in pain and embarrassment, slowly realizing I was surrounded by a red pool on the pool deck, only it was blood, my blood. Once my mom and some nice parents got me seated in a chair, tears began to fall down my face as the pain caught up with me. One of the nice parents ended up being a dentist and took a look at my mouth. I ended up knocking out my two top front teeth, leaving me with a big cut on my lip and a very funny smile. 

 

       Most of the kids had left, leaving myself, my mom, the dentist, as well as a few other concerned parents left. A hotel worker came with more towels, some for me and some to begin cleaning up the mess I had left on the pool deck. Being quite talented, I was smart enough to fall on the pool deck and avoided getting blood in the pool, which would have caused a true nightmare. We remained at the pool for around 30 minutes after the fall until I was okay and able to walk back to our hotel room on the third floor. Exhausted from the busy day and the upsetting fall, I fell asleep right away, being in too much pain to eat the pizza my dad had got for us. 

 

       The year after my unfortunate fall, I returned to Mujigae and, once again, asked to go to the pool. It was different this time, I walked with caution and slowly got in and out of the water. I still went down and touched the dolphin, and I still used the ladder to get out. The fall was my first true memory of water. I am not sure why, maybe it is because I would visit the same pool every year, that I was surrounded by people that look like me, or that my fall was a traumatizing experience that left me smiling with a wide toothy grin at all of the closing ceremony pictures. Regardless, I wouldn't trade this memory for anything. Looking back at the pictures from the closing ceremony with the very noticeable gap from my front teeth, I am reminded of Mujigae and of happiness. Throughout the summers I attended Mujigae, I was truly happy, being able to learn about my culture with people who could relate to me rather than criticize and judge. The fall and that pool reminds me of Mujigae, family, and the kindness of strangers, and I will never forget that.