Monthly Archives: November 2011

11/26/11

Do I own all this stuff? Or does it own me?

Now that I’m officially in Travel-Packing-Logistics Mode, it’s difficult to look at everything I own. I used to say that I LOVED the idea of just having my passport and a suitcase full of the barest of necessities to set off on an adventure around the world. Pure romanticism, I know. My real feelings are sadly, another story.

Maybe it’s easy for some people, but for me, it’s difficult trying to limit myself to a few handful of tops and bottoms that will last me almost a year abroad. The first half of my exchange is fine: I’ll be stationary in a dorm room up in Norway from January to June. But once July hits, I’ll be essentially living out of a backpack for 4 months. I consider myself to be a pretty light packer when it comes to shorter trips, but I haven’t the faintest idea how to pack for both hot and cold climates, pack light and pack within flight luggage restricts for such a long period of time. It reminds me just how much I’m leaving behind. Which, for the most part, I take to be a good thing.

The decision to leave behind everything I know in my life – everyone I know, my job, my school, my beloved Vancouver – to take my first step in becoming a globetrotter hasn’t been an easy one. I still have mornings when I wake up terrified by the whole ordeal. What this packing challenge presents to me is this decision in the context of my relationship to my possessions. Material goods. Stuff. It’s testing me to figure out for myself just what is most important to me and what doesn’t.

To put it bluntly: what can I live without truly?

In terms of possessions, clothes pose the biggest dilemma for me, actually. I never used to care much for clothes, but in recent years, I’ve become comfortable with dressing myself with confidence – as yet another outlet for my self-identity. This is all fine and dandy, and I am so glad I managed to get over my earlier fear of clothes and self-esteem. But here is an opportunity to test the waters of who I am, stripped (figuratively, of course) of this outlet.

As for other things I could probably do without, but in the context of what I will be doing abroad that I will be bringing with me:

1. Laptop: for school classes in Norway/Tanzania as well as for independent research in the field. If it weren’t for the academic factor, I probably wouldn’t lean towards bringing the hassle that comes with it.

Although the fact that I can stay connected via Skype, Facebook, and blog on my WordPress and Tumblr still is an added plus.

Current plans for an Ultrabook… expensive, but light, powerful, and durable. After much debate with my mom, I’ve decided to go with the security risk.

2. Kindle E-Book Reader: I love reading, but bringing 50 books with me travelling is just not feasible. With the Kindle, I have access to thousands of books in the palm of my hand.

3. Ipod Touch: I need my music! Long hours of transit time will most likely bore me to death.

4. Cell Phone: just a cheap one – nothing fancy. It’s mostly for security measures more than anything else.

What can I say? I like to stay connected, even if I’m on the move. If I’ve learned anything about myself, it’s that these connections are very important to me and it just so happens that technology serves as a convenient means for me to do that. I’ve researched the most light-weight and space-saving ways of doing so because of this. As for toiletries: toothbrush, soap, small brush… maybe a little thing of hand lotion because I get dry skin. For my 4 months out of a backpack at least, I’ll be giving up on cosmetics and hair care (wouldn’t miss ‘em too much anyway).

This packing process is definitely teaching me more about myself. I can’t wait to see how I change once I actually depart.

(I do see the irony in buying packing/travelling gear in this resolve though.)

11/18/11

Signed my housing contract…

…after about 5 badgering emails later. It had already been at least 3 weeks since I sent out my housing application and I was getting a little worried that they would never get around to sending me my contract. UMB housing is done separately from the school itself so I was pretty much fighting with the housing department to get them to send me the contract that I needed so I wouldn’t be homeless in the New Year. But it’s here today (along with the first fall of snow in Vancouver!) and I’ve read, signed, scanned and sent it back their way. Now all I have to do is wire 6 months worth of rent before January 1st and I should be well on my way! 😀

Now that I’ve almost got housing out of the way, I can finally start applying for my student VISA. Thank goodness.

Things left to do for Exchange Planning (from the top of my head… I have an actual list somewhere):

-apply for Student VISA

-get immunizations for Africa as well as info about malaria tablets, etc.

-talk to my bank about wiring money among other things

-talk to credit card people

-get my cell phone sorted out

-figure out what I’m bringing in terms of clothes (need a nice pair of warm sturdy boots and some actual thermal pants)

About 2 months left ’til I depart! Time is flying by! :O

11/6/11

Home, yet homesick.

Nowadays, I wake up in one of two ways: I wake up wanting to hop on a plane to Norway that very morning or wake up being utterly terrified of leaving. Today, I was more of the latter.
I had my eyes closed, even though I had been awake for awhile, just listening to the sounds of the house: my mom washing dishes downstairs, my dad and brother chatting in the kitchen, the bell-like jingling of my dog’s collar as she explored the house – I realized in that very instant that in a little over two months, I wouldn’t wake to these familiar sounds. Suddenly, images of myself alone on the plane landing into Oslo crept into my head. At that moment, the mere thought of stepping away from everything I’ve ever known into cold, wide abyss called the unknown terrified me. I was reminded just how precious every day at home was to me; the thought never leaves my mind with my flight date drawing nearer.
When my mom fusses or nags over me, I let her without grumbling. And when I do get annoyed, I say it out loud and we end up laughing over it. I savour every bite of homecooked food, feeling my mother’s love inch down my throat to my stomach.
When my brother barges into the room like Kramer from Seinfeld, I let him babble. I retort back with amused comments and keeps going on and on about what he loves most: talking about things he’s read or heard about online (mostly to do along the lines of video games, movies, and technology).
When my dad asks the rare question or comment to me, I answer and make small talk. We never talk about anything and he’s never been a man of showing his affections in words. But on the days he picks me up from the skytrain station or when he asks me if I’m back after I’ve come back from work for a good hour, I dig deeply into what made him say these things to me. Small talk, routine greetings, and a willingness to fix anything that breaks on me – it’s through these actions that I feel that my dad cares about me. That and what I hear from my mother.
When I hear my bedroom door quietly open and hear the pitter patter of muffled little footsteps on the carpet, I shuffle over in my bed and let my dog snuggle up next to me. I give my dog a big smile when she comes running to the door to greet me when I come home, and balance her on my lap when I’m sitting in front of the computer.
There will be other little things I miss at home: from just sitting silently in the living room on my own with a cup of tea to walking around my neighbourhood to take in the fresh air. So here I am – at home but yet already homesick – before I’ve even said my good-byes.
One year is a long time.