The Things They Carried

We booked our flights in August. We got out vaccinations in November. Last week, we crammed our belongings into Scott’s parents’ truck and handed over the keys to our apartment. None of it felt real until today, sitting on my bedroom floor, surrounded by small stacks of clothing, film canisters filled with medications, a travel towel of dubious absorbency. They are the only familiar things I’ll have for the next six months -- no home made dinners, no weekend paper, no iMac, no 20-minute hot showers, no jeans.

My approach to packing was simple: seek out other people’s lists, highlight good ideas, toss out bad ones (like ‘wristband wallet’ and ‘ridiculously overzealous med kit’). After all the fun I had writing my three-part series on budgeting advice, I’m almost tempted to give a blow-by-blow of the final packing list, but I think it’s best I refrain. Most of the clothes I’m packing came from the Gap end-of-summer sale or a free box in Victoria. Most of my other travel implements came wrapped in holiday paper and as far as I know, came from the North Pole in a sleigh. None of this is particularly helpful.

The one thing I will endorse here is the same thing everyone who’s ever done any backpacking will tell you: pack light. I think this becomes all the more important the less developed the countries you are visiting are, and the more you want to move around them. Given that we’re headed for sub-Saharan Africa, and plan to be on the move more days than not, it’s vital to our shoulders and our sanity that we keep the size and weight of our packs down.

Initially, we’d hoped to have only carry-on, but after the underwear bomber incident and ensuing (bat shit crazy) security policy review, it seems unlikely that we’ll be living out that particular dream. Meaning, at 11:30pm Cape Town time a week from now, you’ll find me buzzing around the carousel, praying aloud with my boyfriend that an opportunistic baggage handler didn’t slice through our nylon packs and steal my rainbow button-up from 1980 or his ratty grey hoodie.

Perhaps it will turn out to be a good thing that our packing list in no way reminiscent of an REI shopping spree -- no one’s going to want to steal our stuff, and if it weren't for the freckles and blonde hair, we just might succeed in blending in with the locals sporting their second-hand t-shirts.

Don't mess with TEXAS!