Snow for someone from a tropical country

Snow means winter and winter means one of the four seasons for countries located in south and north hemispheres. For a person like me, coming from a tropical country like Indonesia, snow is impossibility. No, we don't have winter in the equator. We only have two seasons, dry and rainy. The temperature is the same throughout the year, around 20-33 Celcius degree. I can tell you a million of good things about Indonesia, but not winter. Somehow, the distance from winter and snow is crystalized in my unconsciousness and then I became obsessed with snow. I know that I prefer cold than hot. Then I started viewing snow like... a treasure.

I opened this chest of treasure when I decided to travel to South Korea. I got a promo ticket and was bound to reach there in January. My Korean friends, when I asked them about the country, all said "It will be very cold. It will be the coldest". Yeah. It's as if they could read my mind. I thought, that's exactly what I want. Although there was a flash that what if I could not handle it? What if I fall sick, in a foreign country whose language I speak not? But those negative thinkings didn't stop me from packing and preparing my trip. I brought jackets, monkey cap, socks, inner clothes and all. I was ready.

And then there I was, in Seoul, when the temperature was around -10 to -3. There was snow, the white treasure. I really had to take care of myself: my skin, my lips became so dry. I couldn't wear my canvas shoes as the roads were very slippery and my toes were frozen, so I had to buy boots (so costly for my budget, and I wondered when will I have the chance to wear them again). I had my maps and guide book in my hands, and I love walking, but it's a challenge to stay on the ground and face the wind and the cold. So I had to entered some buildings or go underground to the subway in the middle of my exploration of the city.

Snow, snow, snow everywhere. On the roads, the rooftops, between the rails, on the plants, on bus stops, even moustaches. Everything was glowing. Everything was pure.

But it was amazing. I remember when I went to N Seoul Tower. My disappointment of being unable to see the city from above due to fog quickly receded because snow started falling. It was like a miracle. I took a picture of myself, for memory, not wanting the snow to stop falling. Suddenly I forgot about the sun, about colors and all brouhahas.

And even the snow (or Seoul?) didn't seem to want me to leave. When I was on the plane, I was lucky to have the window seat. I was collecting, storing my memories of my journey when it started snowing again. It was like dust, gushed by the wind. Snow fell silently, gracefully. So light, so harmless. Then I was stunned by a speck of snow that sticked on the window. It was like a diamond. Only then I understood snowflake, the symetrical shape, the beauty of it. Such a treasure. Such a memorable experience.