Getting your luggage back, when you haven’t changed your clothes in a week, is like indulging in a shopping spree without spending a dime. Is it true? I really have two more pairs of shoes? I have…scarves? Skirts in so many colors I’m not sure I remember the names of them all! Yoga pants! (And, nod to Jess, a yoga mat even! I can….yoga!)
Then there’s the toiletries section. First to get my admiration is Deodorant, a good and noble invention I was pretending not to miss. Next, DEET-filled bug spray, so that I can stop being paranoid. After that, it’s all as good as candy. Calcium tablets in rainbow colors! Sudafed, tylenol, a spare toothbrush!! (Packed when I recalled that on my last day in Rwanda, after 29 days of NOT having done this, I rinsed my toothbrush in the sink.) And…wait…no, it can’t be. Ginger moisturizer AND body scrub (nod to Nicola). History has not seen a greater pairing since Ferdinand and Isabella.*
But I have to say, perhaps the thing I am most grateful to see is my body scrub. I’ve been using the same soap in the shower for like 10 years or something, so there’s a certain level of comfort to see its peachy pearls staring at me.
Yesterday, I got a home. Today, I got my luggage. I think things might just work out.
* you know, minus the whole Inquisition thing. And if you can’t do that, then just sub in “Porgy and Bess.”
Ah, whiny white people; the seasoning of my existence. (But seriously Jina, I know exactly what you mean. Everytime I’m in Jamaica for more than 2 weeks at my grandma’s house, afterwards electricity and hot water strike me as proof of the existence of unicorns.)