Beware of Baggage

Lindsey Smith, Angie Booher, Taren Manley, Steven Novotny




Seth, Steve, and Katie sporting their huge bags
Photo:  Steven Novotny


    Arriving at the Cleveland airport at seven in the morning on the day we left, everyone looked around – sizing up each other’s luggage.  Every student had baggage that could probably fit a small person inside, and we were each wishing we could have more and wondering if we would miss those items we left behind.  The luggage was easily transported through Alaska and Hawai’i, where travel standards for oversized bags were the norm, allowing us to be unbelieving of the many warnings we got about future travel hazards. 

            We thought, with our two pairs of pants and five shirts, toiletries and other travel necessities, we were already traveling light.  Then came Bangkok.  The first time we tried to cram into a tuk-tuk, though humorous, we realized how wrong we were.  These glorified motorcycles could fit seven locals, whereas we could fit no more than three with our luggage (that is with heavy bags in laps and other items precariously strapped to the back)! 

            Our realization, unfortunately, was only beginning.  Traveling by rail in Thailand, we found ourselves cramped into a single rail car with three hundred other people, not even having standing room.  By the end of the four hours of stepping on toes, personal bubbles having been burst in the first five minutes, we got off with a resolve to put our luggage on diets.  Instead of collecting items like Alexander von Humboldt was on his journey, we were looking for every possible way to lose them. 

            Even with our downsized luggage, we arrived in India looking like rich bureaucrats.  As we wheeled our bags through the streets we walked past people whose worldly possessions were less than each of us continued to carry.  Regardless, we tended to upset our luggage’s’ diets by collecting several souvenirs as we trekked through several cities. Then we realized despairingly that our luggage might not make it through an Indian airline’s weight standards. We would have to give up our beloved possessions to be able to leave India.

            That’s when our mindset on the importance of all our stuff really changed, at least by force. We started leaving small things behind where we could, and post offices became our new desired locations as well as our last hope of holding onto our materialism while still being able to make weight.  With great difficulty we found one, but the prices were outrageous and the possibility of our stuff making it back was small.

            Needless to say we have learned our baggage lesson, realized the worst side of our materialism, and gained a different perspective from our travels. When we get back it might be easy to fall into our previous concept of being middle class Americans, but we will always have this experience lingering in our minds, telling us that we have so many things that we really don’t need. Perhaps we might be able to realign our priorities.

 

Angie Booher
BooherA at hiram.edu 
Last updated 22 March 2008