The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Peace Corps - Don't Panic

by Jim

Apologies to Douglas Adams, but I have always felt a little like Arthur Dent, kind of a hapless character who just reacts to the big events of life. And, only when they are impossible to ignore. That approach has worked quite well for me for 58 years, thank you very much.

Now it feels as if there really is an intergalactic freeway coming through my planet and it is time to go. (I wonder if this feeling has anything to do with the reopening of the Sherman Minton Bridge). The weirdest thing is that, as I want to do nothing more than lie in the road in a futile attempt to stop the destruction, Vickie keeps talking to me about towels.

I fear I may be married to a female version of Ford Prefect, the intergalactic traveler.  Evidence:  Vickie insisted that I buy an “extra-large” travel towel, ostensibly so I won’t try to steal hers. I did as instructed and shoved it deep in my duffle. I just noticed that she has hers, which is large and fluffy, strapped to the outside of her backpack in easy reach in case she needs it when the Vogons appear.

So, we are packing. We are only allowed 80 pounds each, but the real limit is, how much can you carry? This is so unfair! Do you have any idea how much a pair of size 13 shoes weighs? Or, a pair of men’s Levis? I know exactly; I bought a scale. I’m taking three pairs of shoes, sandals, and three pairs of jeans. This has to last for over two years!! Now my bags weigh 79 lbs. and 15 oz.  Vickie, on the other hand, has somehow managed to pack something like 57 pairs of shoes (size teeny-tiny) and an ultra-lite weight wardrobe, suitable for all occasions and in a variety of colors. And, she has room for MORE stuff. 

The movers come next week to put the second half of all of our worldly possessions into storage (the first half has been there for almost a year now) so things are turned upside down here, boxes stacked everywhere. Most of the kitchen is packed so we cannot cook anymore. I never thought I would tire of eating out,  what with all of the great restaurants in the Highlands, but I find myself hopefully anticipating the beans and rice of the Dominican Republic. We’ll see how I feel about that in a few months.

The big thing is how little all of our stuff means to me. I know I will miss playing my wonderful guitar and mandolin, and I am sure going cold-turkey in regards to my iPhone will be difficult, but other than that, it is the people that I will miss.