At the Airport

A rare Sunday blog entry—I’m at the gate as I type, and don’t know when I’ll be online again. I just spoke to my father on the phone, and he asked me if I thought I had everything I need. I said I thought so, but that if I didn’t, there wouldn’t have been room for it anyway. I packed densely, but not lightly. Everything fit in a small internal frame pack that doubles as a duffel bag, and a smaller day-pack. Which is good news, except that each weighs about 30 pounds. Luckily, a lot of it is made up of some pretty impractical gifts I’ve brought for ex-pats I’m going to impose upon along the way. Gifts include a bottle of champagne, four pounds of lentils (seriously; apparently these are hard to find in Japan), two pounds of coffee beans, and a ceramic jug of maple syrup.

The next time I travel, everyone’s getting gift certificates.

Interestingly, everyone keeps asking me what I’m packing. I find this odd, since I think I’ve pretty clearly demonstrated a complete obliviousness to what constitutes normal clothing choices. Whenever I am in Europe, for example, I am invariably addressed first in German, no matter what country I’m actually in. I’d like to think it’s my blue eyes and pink cheeks. But I know it isn’t. I know it’s my choice in footwear.

So asking me for packing advice is a little bit like asking a guy sleeping in a doorway wearing three hats what vintage you should take to a dinner party. But since people seem to want to know:

• 2 pairs of long pants
  
• 1 pair of ez-wash shorts
  
• 5 solid-colored t-shirts
  
• 1 workout t-shirt
  
• 1 button-down short-sleeved shirt
  
• 1 sweatshirt
  
• 10 pairs of socks, assorted black and white
  
• 1 bathing suit
  
• pjs
  
• gym shorts
  
• sneakers
  
• casual walking shoes
  
• Tevas
  
• 10 pairs unmentionables
  
• Laptop
  
• camera
  
• cellphone
  
• chargers
  
• cables
  
• 6 months worth of backlogged magazines
  
• 4 guidebooks (2 Trans-Siberian, 1 Shanghai, one Japan)
  
• The Kite Runner
  
• An absurd amount of toiletries (six week’s worth) so I am not reduced to having to buy Darkie toothpaste while I’m away.
• Also a jar of Woolite
  
• Assorted other gifts and trinkets, which I will be glad to be rid of. Sometimes giving really does feel good.