Packing

I just finished up a “dry run” at packing for my trip to Guatemala. Most would think this is a bit OCD of me but you try fitting the next two years of your life into a duffel bag that weighs 50 lbs and has accumulative dimensions no greater than 62 inches. Trust me, its no easy feat. Especially since I had to purchased enough gear for an arctic expedition- minus the parka. I spent so much time at the Thousand Oaks Sports Chalet that they now know me by name. I even promised Mike in the outdoors section a post card. No Joke. Ok, so, back to packing. Today I spent a good few hours in my room shoving the Peace Corps packing list into my suitcase: sleeping bag, sleeping mat, flashlight, pocketknife, duct tape (duct tape? really? I’m still trying to imagine what I’ll need that for aside from taping up my obese duffel bag in hopes that all its contents don’t burst from its seams), agriculture boots, Nalgene water bottle (cause even the Peace Corps has its lovemarks), your favorite board game… yeah, board game- sadly I had to reason with myself and leave Sorry in my parents game drawer. Plus, how could I take a board game when that space could be used for personal necessities. Necessities like my gold flip-flops, which I’m really not planning on wearing, I’m just taking to look at. And a quart size bag full of individually wrapped Wet Ones, because towelletes could come in handy when stuck in a place with no soap, running water or toilet paper (never thought toilet paper was a luxury huh?). I must confess, nowhere on the list was a laptop but I’m taking one anyway. They say 20% of volunteers in Guatemala have wireless internet and I am not afraid to bribe myself into that demographic. Hmm, I wonder if they’ll accept Wet Ones as collateral. Now you see where my spatial capacity anxiety is coming from? As I sat wondering which of my perfumes would fit snug in my toiletry kit and be least likely to attract mosquitoes my dad popped into my room. I could tell by the look on his face that he had a purpose. He stood in my doorway and quite abruptly said, “Anna, promise me this, you’ll think long and hard, without making any irrational decisions about starting any relationships with a Guatemalan man and bringing him back with you to The States to get married. And be careful when you’re down there. The last thing you want is to contract some sort of STD,” Yes, this was all a bit awkward but entertaining nonetheless so I let him continue, “Do you need me to get you any condoms because I’d be happy to get you some to take down with you?” Coming from the man who on Mother’s Day told me, “ Anna, promise me you’ll let your mom and I meet your husband before you get married” this spiel was standard procedure. I told him that he honestly has nothing to worry about and that there is no need to send me down with condoms because they practically shower you with them as you disembark the plane. Which at the time I thought was a reassuring statement but now I think it makes it sound like I’m joining an orgy instead of the Peace Corps, which was not my intention. Regardless, I knew he needed to speak his peace and I needed to promise him that I wouldn’t do anything foolish. I guess it was reassurance enough because he walked back upstairs as I sat thinking, “If I did have to pack condoms, I guess I could shove them in my empty Nalgene.”