I said, "Do you speak-a my language?" He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich -Men At Work
06/24/2014 - 06/25/2014
I stood over my bed and lovingly gazed down at the disheveled piece of baggage I would be bringing with me. The small, black, backpackers bag had straps and pockets littering its cushioned sides. It was used, loved, sold and signified my freedom. I first saw it in a second-hand travel store in the ocean port of Ballard. In its small outer pocket I found a crumpled ticket for the Euro Rail. It made me smile to think that this bag had traveled around the world and found itself in the same part of town as me. In fact, in the exact same spot as me. With the help of someone in the store, I lifted it from the shelf and shuffled it onto my back. It fit my height-challenged frame of 5 foot 3 perfectly, so I bought it. In September it will house everything I own. But not yet. Now, it will follow me to the Land Down Under.
Tomorrow morning I will be heading off to the Seattle International Airport to meet 43 anxious 5th and 6th graders. Together, we will be embarking on a whirlwind tour of Australia's east coast. I am full of nerves at this tremendous responsibility (how do these parents all trust me to do this?!) and am extremely excited for the adventure.
My bag was packed, unpacked, repacked, tossed, turned, emptied and stuffed. I removed pants, shirts, shorts and dresses. I replaced them with rolled-up tank tops, coats, t-shirts and skirts. Converters, check. Chargers, check. Band aids, check. Wish me luck!