Packing

One of the best things about traveling, something I would never have experienced if not for this trip, is the feeling you get when you're packed. Oh sure, packing itself is a chore. But I don't have much with me, and it only takes an hour.

When everything I own is zipped into a backpack, all organized and small: there is something phenomenal about that. The simplicity of life is very apparant.

There are only three posessions I really care about: my wallet, my camera, and my iPod. Everything else is less important. I could live without it, or if I lose it, it's easily replaceable.  I usually carry one or two books, some writing materials, and then other essentials: sweater, jacket, touque, two pairs of jeans, one pair of shorts, seven shirts, one cotton dress. I also carry a towel, a pillow case, and some powder laundry soap in a little ziplock bag. I use the pillow case as a stuff-sack and sleep on my dirty laundry if I'm not in a hostel. In a ziplock bag I carry my underwear, socks, bathing suit and sports bra; in another ziplock I carry my toiletries: soap, shampoo, deoderant, toothpaste, toothbrush, hairbrush, razor... nail clippers, mascara, band-aids, and ibuprophen.

That's it. Everything I own. Everything I need.

Sometimes I miss my other clothes, my eyeliner, books, art supplies... in a way, I miss my bed and my pillows, you know, my comfy chair. The dishes I bought in Chinatown. It's silly, but those things made me feel at home.

It's so worthwhile to own almost nothing, but at the same time, I will be happy to come home to my stuff.