Anytime I travel – even if it’s within the US for just a short time – I always marvel at how well I get along with so little stuff. I’ve travelled enough that I know how little to pack to get along, and I always do. Usually I’m not as strict with myself as I should be, and I end up slightly over-packing.
Usually though, I pack the right stuff, just not as smartly as I could have – of course, hindsight is 20/20 whenever one travels. I probably only needed one sarong on this trip (not two), but I wish I had brought one more t-shirt (I brought four). I don’t think I should have a problem bringing home all my stuff – I still want to buy some more souvenirs for people back home – I’ve bought most of what I want for myself. Our art teacher supposedly sells her art, I’m thinking of buying something for Mom’s wedding.
Naturally, thinking about my consumption styles when travelling versus at home comes up a lot. Here I’ve bought a lot of snacks, but all our meals are provided so my food buying has been pretty limited. I think the biggest thing I have noticed about consumption is China is the clothing – a lot of people seem to wear the same shirt or outfit several times a week. I think it must be that most Chinese people, even students, have far fewer clothes than their American counterparts. It makes me wonder if the average Chinese person has a wardrobe not much bigger than what I brought in my luggage. And then I think about how many clothes I have back home…
Travelling definitely triggers my periodic moods of “Oh my God, I have too much stuff, I need to get rid of it all!” I had to move all my shit (with the gracious help of Sara and Avril) into Mom’s house right before coming to China. Her front room was filled with boxes for a couple of days. I imagine if I were to try to write down all the stuff I have in storage, I couldn’t manage to list even a third of it. Which makes you wonder, how necessary is the two-thirds you can’t remember?
I definitely need to deal with some of it – when I move again (hopefully by September, possibly with Rose). I do not want to move all that ridiculousness. Further, it’s not really fair to take up all of Mom’s storage space as well.
I used to be obsessed with this idea that maybe I could get rid of enough stuff so that I could fit it all into a car. And not to get too Freudian on myself, but I wonder if that desire stems from how much I moved as a kid. I hate moving to this day, and if I owned a lot less crap, it would be easier to move it all. I guess I always feel like I should be ready to pick up and move, since the longest I’ve ever lived in one place was in Delhi, for about seven years. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the concept of putting down roots and living in one place for several years. I suppose being so familiar with mobility is both a blessing and a curse.
Anyway, when I get home, I am fully committing myself to Team More Fun-Less Stuff.
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