“You’re going to kill me,” my sister told me. “I found the best birthday present for Pierre, but you’re going to kill me.”
It was the day before Pierre’s 5th birthday, and we had a surprise party planned for him.
“It’s hiding in the car,” she told me. “I can’t wait to give it to him.”
I didn’t want to disappoint my sister who was obviously very excited about the perfect birthday gift that she had found for her nephew. However, I was a bit concerned.
She carried it inside the house from the car. It was slightly larger than her.
“Oh My Goodness!”
“Oh my goodness!” I said when I saw it.
It was pretty amazing, I had to admit, but what in the world would we do with it? The giant-sized, stuffed, brown monkey was adorable, and Pierre would love it. Vincent, on the other hand, about died when he saw the size of the birthday present.
“How in the world are we going to get it home?” he asked.
We were at my mother’s for Christmas in Missouri, and we had a 13-hour drive back to Pennsylvania.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said.
Pierre fell madly in love with “Monkey” when he woke up on his birthday morning. He discovered his new jumbo-sized friend sitting in a large wicker chair.
“You’re Going to Kill Me!”
“Sorry,” my sister said. “You’re going to kill me.”
A week later, much to Vincent’s dismay, we managed to stuff “Monkey” into the already-full van. I sat in the back seat next to Pierre and laid the gigantic stuffed animal on top of us. “Monkey” was actually great for snuggling in the car while sleeping during our long car ride. I tried not to complain about the lack of room in the car and my inability to breathe through his thick, brown fur.
Pierre quickly adopted “Monkey” as his best friend, strapping him into the car seat next to him whenever we went on road trips. He also fed him, slept with him, regularly brushed his teeth, sat him on the “potty,” put him in his swing and stroller, had after-school snacks with him, and bandaged up his “open sores” and “wounds” with silver duck tape when his seams burst open.
“Monkey” became a much-needed piece of Pierre’s transition puzzle in his “Land Between.”
Pierre was strongly attached to “Monkey,” and we were in big trouble.
What in the World Would We Do?
What in the world would we do when it was time to leave America to move to Europe—when it was time to get out our suitcases and leave our “Land of the Familiar”? We couldn’t possibly take “Monkey” with us. He would never fit in a suitcase. He was twice as big as Pierre.
I could hear my sister’s words echoing in my ears. “You’re going to kill me.”
Eventually, the time came to get out our suitcases. The time came for our family to leave “The Land of the Familiar.”
“We are going to have to take ‘Monkey’ with us,” I told Vincent.
“No, we cannot take ‘Monkey’ with us,” he replied.
“Pierre needs him to transition. ‘Monkey’ is his best friend,” I said convincingly.
Transition Cues
I had just recently read an article from the Department of State on “re-entry” and “reverse culture shock.” It talked about “transition cues” and the importance of having familiar toys, books, pictures, decor, music, etc. to help family members transition from one place to another—especially kids.
“Monkey” was Pierre’s primary “transition cue,” and we had to find a way to take him with us.
I began exploring creative ideas about how we could transport our son’s monstrous jungle friend in the airplane.
Perhaps we could carry “Monkey” on the plane with us as an “extra-large” piece of hand baggage. He could sit on Pierre’s lap.
Perhaps I could sit “Monkey” in the stroller in place of Pierre and stroll him to the door of the plane. Maybe no one would notice.
Perhaps we could take out “Monkey’s” stuffing and just transport his fur “shell” with us. Then, I could buy stuffing in Spain and fill him again.
Perhaps we could try one of those vacuum bags and reduce him enough to fit him into one of our extra-large duffle bags.
Surely, we could find a solution.
Not an Option
We had to take “Monkey.” It wasn’t an option.
The vacuum bag idea seemed the easiest, so I bought a set of jumbo-sized bags online.
One day, while Pierre was at school, we stuffed “Monkey” into the largest vacuum bag in the package and “sucked” him down as much as we could. It was an impressive size reduction.
I then pulled out my largest and longest duffle bag and shoved the vacuum-sealed package inside.
Woo hoo! It fit! It was a miracle!
“Monkey” looked like he was in a body bag. You couldn’t even tell that it was “Monkey.”
It didn’t matter. He fit!
What We Won’t Do For Our Children!
“Oh, what we won’t do for our children,” I said to Vincent, laughing.
We were allowed 12 pieces of luggage, and “Monkey” would occupy one entire duffle bag. It didn’t matter. He fit!
As soon as Pierre arrived home from school that day, he walked into his bedroom.
“Where’s ‘Monkey’?” he asked.
I looked at Vincent. “I told you. He needs ‘Monkey.’”
“We packed him up safely in the duffle bag,” I told Pierre. “He is ready to travel to Spain with us. He is going to sleep in the bag for a couple of days until we leave.”
“Ok,” Pierre said, seemingly reassured.
“Monkey” miraculously made it to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. I was a bit concerned that the vacuum-sealed bag might explode during the flight, busting open the plastic bag and breaking the duffle bag’s zipper.
“What if we lost “Monkey” en route?” I thought to myself. I almost had nightmares about it.
Amazingly, “Monkey” was still vacuum-sealed when we unpacked the bag—safe and sound. He survived the trip, and he didn’t explode out of the duffle bag.
“Monkey” is now sitting on Pierre’s bed in Spain. He is the perfect “transition cue” as our family enters another “Land Between.”
“You’re going to kill me,” my sister said.
“No, I won’t. Thank you for giving Pierre one of the greatest gifts ever—a world-traveling friend for life!” I yelled across the ocean to my sister with a smile.
—The Cultural Story-Weaver
Let’s Weave Cultures!
Have you ever had an item that you wanted to take with you during your travels or a move, but it was too big or too heavy? What did you do?
If you have ever moved, what are some of the “transition cues” that have helped you and your children to “transition” well to your new home and new location?
We invite you to tell us your own cultural stories and global adventures . . . as you engage with the world, breaking down barriers, building bridges, and “weaving cultures!” Write about them in the comment box below.
