Packing the Luggage

Ricky asked, since we returned the keys of our rented apartment, whether we were living in the streets now. Not yet: we are at my parents' house today and tomorrow night. Then we're off to Africa. Today, we spent the morning packing our luggage. We are taking three carry-on backpacks and one small bag. We will not check luggage, except as a last resort. Two of the backpacks have wheels.

The backpack without wheels contains: a large mosquito net, three sleeping sacks, a travel towel, insect repellant, a steripen, batteries, a flashlight, two clothing lines (they are small), binoculars, a sink stopper, a sleeping bag, flip-flops for us and Crocs for Ricky, one sleeping bag, one bag with a first-aid kit and another bag of toiletries.  

The first-aid kit is stuffed full. We packed: band-aids, antibiotic ointment, hydrocortisone cream, antiseptic wipes, a thermometer, ibuprofen and acetaminophen (regular and pediatric), pediatric cough suppressant, pediatric amoxicillin and azithromyocin, cipro, Pepto-Bismol pills, hydration powder envelopes (pediatric), a laxative, eye drops, ear drops, nasal decongestant (regular and pediatric), an antihistamine, Dramamine, Malarone (as a prophylactic treatment for malaria), asthma inhaler.

The toiletries we are taking are: shampoo, conditioner, a small bar of soap, a nail clipper, a brush, a comb, children’s shampoo, three toothbrushes, toothpaste, lip balm with sun protection, two bottles of sunscreen, a razor, blades, shaving cream, feminine products, baby wipes, tweezers, two travel-size deodorants, q-tips, dental floss, hand cream, a small mirror, contact lens stuff.

The other two backpacks have our clothing. One of them has Bryan and Ricky’s things and the other one has mine (plus I will stuff some books into mine). For Ricky, we are taking: two and a half pairs of pajamas (odd, I know), socks and underwear, two sweatpants, one sun hat, six short-sleeved shirts, two long-sleeved shirts, two bathing suits, goggles, cap for the pool, four pairs of shorts, two khaki pants (thin, quick-drying), a rain jacket. He will wear jeans, a sweatshirt, a jacket and sneakers.

Bryan has packed a bunch of shirts, both long and short sleeved, and pants and pajamas. I’m not sure exactly what else. For me, I’ve packed nine tops (women’s tops take up no room), one bathing suit, two skirts, one dress, one pair of thin pants from REI, socks and underwear, a rain jacket, a hat, and a pair of sneakers. I will wear jeans and black shoes and a jacket on the plane. I may pack a sweater for me and another for Ricky. I should also pack some detergent, because we’re going to be doing a lot of laundry by hand, all over the world.

On How Moving Smashes You in the Head

As I take a break after clearing Ricky’s room, I’m thinking about how much it shakes me to move. Even this move, which is easier than previous ones, is starting to really sting. Suddenly, we’ve reached a point where chaos has shown its ugly head. You know what I mean if you’ve ever moved: the bags of stuff in the hallway, the piles of linens in the living room, nothing good to eat in the fridge, furniture missing, things you need in unlikely places, a feeling of uncertainty.  In three days, we’ll be out of this apartment and in one week we’ll be chilling in Morocco, so I try to think about that so I don’t panic.

As a child, I moved with my family from Argentina to Spain. We brought very little with us on the plane, and shipped nothing. I have blocked out most of the preparations that led to our moving to Spain. That enormous shift gave me a feeling of extreme loss, of things and people and places. Plus, five years before the relocation to Spain we had gone from Buenos Aires to Tandil, from the big city to the middle of nowhere, where we knew no one. It was a wonderful place, our house in Tandil, with forests and dogs and cats and clean air. The move from the city to the country I’ve mostly forgotten, fortunately. I just remember the fear, the excitement.

I just asked my dad, who was here to bring us supplies to paint Ricky’s room, what the moves were like for him. He said he liked moving from Buenos Aires to the country with two big trucks of stuff, but did not like leaving Argentina five years later with six suitcases. I asked what we did with all the stuff we did not take with us. “We sold some, we gave away most, we threw away a lot, we burned a little,” he said. Minus the burning, it’s similar to our current and previous experience moving.

I went to college in the US, lightly, with a couple of suitcases. When Bryan and I moved in together, we just accumulated things. Our first move from one apartment to another, we did not get rid of much. We just rented a u-haul truck and transported our second hand furniture. That was hard, physically, but not a move which made us think.

When we moved out of Tivoli’s School House right after college, we suffered. My sister lived with us that year, and the three of us (Bryan, my sister and me) stayed up all night cleaning the apartment and putting things into boxes. We got rid of a lot of books, which we put outside our building for people to take. It felt good to give away books so others could read them, to liberate them into the world.

We left almost all our things in storage then, and took off for California with the trunk full with suitcases, and more stuff in the back seat. Our friend Andrew who came with us on the trip had to sit in our Mazda with a blender between his feet. We lived in Los Angeles for twelve years, eleven and a half of those years in the same place.

In 2009, we moved out of Los Angeles. It was not fun. It took weeks of sorting and going to Goodwill to donate items and cleaning and finally, just leaving a mountain of furniture and assorted items in front on the sidewalk in front of our house for people to take. As if finding a home for all our things was not enough, we had forest fires and awful air quality during our last days in Hollywood. Our friend Tracy took Ricky out during the day for the last couple of days, so he would not have to see us emptying it all. Jeff, our friend and next door neighbor, also helped by entertaining Ricky in the yard and in his house with long pachinko games while we discarded almost everything we owned.

A real move breaks and strengthens you both. You suffer, you make decisions, you move on. You emerge a slightly different individual.

Part of what makes moving so hard is that we get attached to things and don’t want to let go, even though we have little use for a lot of what we store. But afterward, it feels good: once the things are gone to a friend’s house or to the curb, I feel for the most part a huge sense of relief. I feel lighter, freer. And the best part of moving: soon it’s over and most of the trauma will be forgotten. The brain does that to protect you. Cheers to that thought.

Plans For Our Last Week and Thoughts of Valencia

We are now one week from leaving.  There are only a few things that we must accomplish in that time.  Among the most urgent of those are:

• Finish clearing our apartment.  We've made great progress here.  There is not much furniture left to worry about, and the only room that really has a lot of stuff left in it is the kitchen, which I think we'll really be attacking tomorrow.  Today we'll be finishing up Ricky's room.
• Unpack and repack the things we are actually taking, so that we know what we've got and have got what we need.

I wish that, instead, we were already traveling and did not need to think about these things.

Spain has been a lot of fun.  We have spent a lot of time traveling within the country, seeing cities that we were not really familiar with previously.  The biggest and most pleasant surprise for us inside Spain was Valencia.  The third largest city in the country, we had only passed through it previously.  We went for the first time at the end of 2009, when my sister was visiting with her family.  We all took the train out there, and had a great time.  We had so much fun, that Ana and Ricky and I returned several more times during the year.

One of the highlights of the city, especially for those traveling with children, is the City of Arts and Sciences.  This futuristic-looking museum complex includes Europe's largest aquarium, a science museum, an IMAX theater, a garden, and a performing arts center.  It is stunning to see, and has plenty of interesting features for the children and the parents.  Another wonderful location in the city is the Bioparc, which is a large, modern zoo, in which you can walk through the exhibition spaces, and have animals literally all around. 

Of course, there are wonderful things to eat.  There is the paella valenciana, the saffron and rice dish which originates in the region, and which is still made best here.  There are also many other traditional seafood dishes, as the city sits right upon the Mediterranean.  We visited the rice growing region of the Valencia province, and had a great meal at a restaurant called La Primitiva.  The restaurant was located between rice fields, had a very friendly staff, and took a bit of driving to find.   Once we did, we were very happy.  We had an eel stew that was rich and flavorful and delicious.

The old city of Valencia is another facet of this wonderful city which we enjoyed.  With ancient, narrow, winding streets, it reflects the Moorish heritage of the city in its construction and the lively population there today.

A final great point about Valencia is the traditional drink of the region, Horchata.  This sweet white beverage is made from the tiger nut, which is actually a kind of legume.  It can be found in both everyday bars and in specialized locations which produce it themselves and brag of its quality.  It is a wonderful treat, worth going to the city for all by itself.

But that's Valencia, and today I am in Madrid, and I need to get to work on the apartment.  Seven days until Morocco!

Move Update #3: Progress, Progress, Progress

New Year's Day was not taken as slowly as I might have liked, but there was the compensation of actually getting some work done on the apartment.  The day started poorly, as Ana was not feeling well.  We were supposed to have lunch with her parents, but now she was not going.  I loaded two suitcases into the car, added a little stool, Ricky's scooter, and a box of plants, and went off with Ricky. 

Ricky loves spending time with his grandparents.  He is in a special place when he is there, where the normal rules don't exactly apply.  The other day, while we were there, he said he wanted a second helping of ice cream.  When I told him he had eaten enough ice cream, he told me that his grandma always lets him have more ice cream, and he intended to have more ice cream.  At that moment she came up and asked if he wanted more ice cream.  The rules are different there, and he understands that.

Ana's mother made raviolis - she is from an Italian family and she makes homemade pasta several times a month - stuffed with ham and chard.  It was very good.  We talked about their upcoming trip to the southern part of Argentina, and then I put the suitcases away on some shelves.  Ana's father gave me paint so that we can give the apartment a farewell coat once we get it emptied, and I went back to Madrid, where Ana was feeling a bit better.

Then I attacked Ricky's room.  We have been leaving Ricky's room mostly alone in the packing process, trying to minimize the disorientation he feels.  Now, though, he is out, likely not to return to the apartment.  I took on his desk, a large piece of furniture which was stuffed with his various treasures.  I went through it with a big box for garbage next to me, and nearly filled it with stuff before the desk was emptied.  Then I took the desk outside to the trash.  I don't mind getting rid of my own stuff at all, because I have learned that I don't miss many things once they're gone.  Getting rid of Ricky's stuff was harder, because I was nagged by the knowledge that he would definitely not want to see his stuff getting thrown out (even though most of the stuff we are talking about consists of things like empty egg cartons and old toilet paper rolls, plus various papers he has found and saved).  So I felt like a mean old Daddy.  But his room is looking good!  It'll be empty today, I hope!

In the evening, we had two people coming to look at our furniture.  The guy who was coming to look at the table and chairs arrived prepared, with a large van.  He came up, took five minutes to look it over, and bought it.  He took the legs off, and I helped him carry everything into the van, and he was gone.  It was great.  Now we have a big open spot in the living room, and it feels like we're actually going to be done with this place soon.  The guy who came to look at the couch was not serious.  He had no idea how he was going to move it, he wasn't sure he liked it, since it wasn't new.  He left without saying yes or no, but I doubt we'll be hearing from him again. 

And now, another day of transition!

Move Update #2

Accomplishments of the day:

• We brought Ricky to my parents’ house, giving us more freedom to pack and discard stuff as needed.

• We brought the following to my parents’: a cardboard box full of plants, a bag with odd and ends to return, Ricky’s cash register (so he can play with it there), one shelf, one box of books. The idea is to make room in my room/guest room so the books can be left there.

• We emptied our closet and finished packing two suitcases full of clothing (which will stay with my parents).

• I exchanged e-mails with two Italian men (who I don’t believe know each other) about the sofa bed we’re selling.

• I re-listed the stroller on a different site and listed a car seat.

• Bryan disassembled our coffee table, which belongs to my sister and is going to my parents’ house.

• A set of weights and a planter were taken out of our room.

• A bag of clothing we are donating is full now and has to be taken to the box down the street.

The fun continues.

Move Update #1

We will be on a plane to Morocco on January 10, so we have exactly twelve days until we have shaken off all the stuff that sticks to us (furniture, kitchen things, books, clothing, bathroom items – all we own except for three carry-ons).

I’ve listed the sofa bed and the table and chairs, as well as Ricky’s stroller. I have not placed ads for the beds yet. I’ll do that tomorrow. I’ve received a few responses to my ads. Some promising, others insane. One man wanted to know if the table was in perfect condition, otherwise he was not interested, plus he wanted me to ship it to him in Burgos. Another guy said he wanted the sofa bed, but that because he was going out of town, he wanted to pick it up tomorrow between 12 and 2 pm, and that he assumed the couch was disassembled.

I’ve packed one and a half suitcases of clothing that we’re not taking with us on the trip.

I started packing a suitcase with small kitchen things I love: a few small bowls, four Japanese plates, an apron I bought in Rome when I went there with Satomi. She used it as a shawl when we went into Saint Peter’s in the Vatican (to satisfy the covered shoulders rule). I will also pack the bottle opener that makes wine bottles pop like they are champagne (Sharon gave it to me as a present for my birthday last year), a cutting board I bought in Argentina, a mortar and pestle made out of olive wood.

There’s a full suitcase with papers and photos and Ricky’s drawings.

Another suitcase will be packed with Ricky’s toys and books.

By January 7 at the latest, we will be done emptying our apartment. We’re meeting the landlord that day to give him back the keys. Our lease expires January 15, but we bought the tickets for the 10th because we are eager to be on the road and we’re really looking forward to warmer climates. We’d like a couple of days to rest before the trip, so that’s why we’re meeting the landlord on the 7th. Before that, we’ll paint Ricky’s room, because it needs it and we want to get our deposit back.

Bryan and I will stay in my parents’ house in Guadalajara for a few days starting sometime around January 5, sooner if we sell our bed right away (if we sold our bed and still needed to clean the place, we could sleep on an inflatable bed we have for a day or two). Ricky is going to my parents’ tomorrow and he’ll stay there most likely until we leave town. It is hard for us to get things in order here with Ricky around, because the move is very disorienting for him and he doesn’t want to lose anything. When we throw things into big plastic bags and he sees us, he often takes whatever we threw away out and decides he is keeping it. Old travel magazines, for example. Or boxes.

So tomorrow we’re going to my parents’ for some lunch (gnocci) and Ricky will stay there. We’ll work more productively then, hopefully. We’re probably not renting a storage area after all, although we always can at the last minute, if it gets to that. If all we have is six suitcases to leave at my parents’, then there’s room. So we’re trying to trim it down to that. It’s daunting work. Wish us luck.

Travel With Ricky

Preparing for travel in the old days meant, for me, throwing some clothes into a paper bag and filling the car with gas, making sure that my trusty road atlas was beside me. When Ana and I started traveling together, it was not very different. There were simply more clothes, and she didn't like when I stuffed her clothes into a paper bag, so we would have some sort of a duffel bag instead. She also introduced the notion of bringing along things like toothbrushes and other items normally kept in the bathroom. I don't mean she introduced the idea to the general public, but just to my own personal travel habits. Over the years we adjusted the way we packed, noticing what we had forgotten and what we kept bringing and never using. By the time we had Ricky, we felt like pretty professional voyagers, with a good sense of how much we needed and how to carry it easily.

Ricky changed all that. Ricky changed everything.

Our first trips with Ricky were desperate attempts to escape the house. We were trapped in the early, sleepless months, with the baby needing to be fed throughout the night, with no discernible sleep pattern for him or ourselves beyond collapsing. Outings to the supermarket were an extreme endeavor. So we left town and went to Las Vegas. It meant packing up a huge bag of baby supplies, together with the co-sleeper, putting the baby into the carseat / carrier, and bringing it all into the hotel. We went out for a steak dinner, and, mercifully, Ricky slept the entire time, sitting in his carrier, in the dim lights and loud noise of the restaurant.

After that, we all began to travel again. There were many mis-steps, and moments of difficulty. On Ricky's first trip to Spain, we flew from Los Angeles to New York, and from New York to Madrid. The first flight we thought was rough, we periodic crying and hushing and changing. The second flight was torture. He cried the entire flight, calming only when he was taken into the bathroom of the plane, soothed by the ambient noise and the terrible bright light and the giant mirror. We literally walked across the Atlantic with him.

Now, though, he is the veteran of many, many transcontinental and transatlantic flights, and he enjoys the experience of flying, and the airports. As he has gotten older, we have been able to shed the most cumbersome gear which we have carried at one time or another. There is no more pack and play to carry, no giant bag of diapers, no suitcase full of Hot Wheels cars. We don't drag a giant car seat to the gate, or stand outside the door of the plane waiting for our stroller to be retrieved when we land. The physical requirements of traveling with Ricky have never been easier.