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Whew! I just unpacked my bags.
It’s been almost three months of non-stop traveling around the U.S. like a herd of camels—staying with family, with friends, with strangers, in hotels, in dorms, in cabins, in airbnbs.
Each time we stopped for the night, or a few, even a week, I asked myself if I should unload my suitcase into the provided dressers and closets. I almost forgot what those furniture pieces were used for—beyond decor.
And each time, I convinced myself that it wasn’t worth the time and trouble. Why unpack if I have to repack in just a few days? My husband and four boys felt the same way.
So, we have all been living out of suitcases for three months.
Last week, after landing in a place that I will call “home” for the next few weeks, I decided to finally do it.
Unpack.
It feels good, even if I will have to repack shortly to head back to Spain.
The “suitcase life” is only fun for a short period of time.
As I thought about it today, I remembered a story I posted two years ago . . . feels like déja-vu.
June 15, 2019
We have started a new life . . . “the suitcase life,” as I call it.
It’s not always fun. Have you been there before? The life of living out of suitcases?
We have been here before—“been there, done that.”
Traveling, vacation . . . it all sounds glamorous . . . for a period of time. Maybe a week on a tropical beach? A weekend camping trip in the mountainous forest? A 3-day trek in the Sahara Desert? A Caribbean cruise?
Short-Term or Long-Term?
But long-term?
Why have we chosen this nomadic lifestyle once again?
In an odd sort of way, we must like it. We must thrive in the chaos, the messiness, the mystery, the hunting, the scramble.
As determined as we were to be organized in our packing of 6 extra-large suitcases, 6 jumbo-sized duffle bags, 4 over-stuffed backpacks, 4 carry-on suitcases, and a dog kennel . . . chaos hit hard in the final hours before our departure from the U.S.
Our family was leaving the “Land Between” to move back to Europe. We had our entire lives packed in these 20 pieces of luggage!
In the frantic moments before leaving EARLY for the airport, we started throwing things in every bag—attempting to even out the “over” weight as much as possible. A toothbrush here, toothpaste there, pajamas here, a favorite pillow there . . .
Where Did I Put That?
The result? Upon arriving at our friends’ house in Spain, we couldn’t find anything. Which bag has Pierre’s toothbrush? Where’s my pillow that I can’t sleep without? Do I have another pair of pajamas somewhere? Do I have any clean underwear and socks? Did I pack away all my jewelry—I can’t even find one pair of earrings?
I finally gave up and borrowed some toothpaste from my friend. I chickened out about asking her for a pair of underwear. Earrings? I can live without for the next month.
The day after we arrived, David was invited for a soccer try-out. Oh my! Where in the WORLD are his cleats, shin guards, soccer socks, shorts, and jersey? This was unexpected!
More Hunting
After an hour of “hunting” and pulling out clothes from every suitcase, I managed to round up all of David’s soccer gear. Whew!
That night, it was time to pack up again to head to France and Germany. We were leaving the next morning.
Our 12 over-sized bags lay strewn across our friends’ garage floor.
We had each packed one suitcase to live out of for the next month, but there were still a few things that we needed from the other bags.
Where were they? Where do we begin to hunt for all the items we need to pack in our suitcase for our next road trip?
For several hours, Vincent and I rummaged through all 12 bags, pulling things out that we needed—medicines, shoes, swimsuits, books, Pierre’s favorite blankets and tigers . . .
Scambling Through Suitcases
We drove to our first stop with our friends in the south of France. One night there . . . scramble through suitcases.
The next stop was with Vincent’s parents in Paris. One night there . . . scramble through suitcases.
Germany for Timothee’s graduation was the next stop. Three nights there . . . should we unpack our suitcases and put things in the closets and dressers? No, not worth the effort. Suitcases remained open on the bedroom and living room floors of the apartment we had rented.
This is the life we have chosen—“the suitcase life.”
We then headed back to Paris. One night . . . scramble through suitcases. I quickly shuffled some things around as we were now headed to a warmer climate. Sunshine typically means lighter suitcases—removing the heavier winter items.
Not Worth Unpacking
The next day, we flew to Spain for a work conference. Four nights . . . should we unpack our suitcases at the hotel? No, not worth the effort. Our suitcases would lay open on the hotel floor.
After that, we would stay at Vincent’s parents for five nights again. There’s no room to unpack in their tiny Parisian apartment. No room in their closets. During our entire stay, our family’s suitcases would remain lined up vertically in the hallway—opened only once or twice a day to remove needed items.
The “suitcase life” continues.
We will then head back to the south of France to stay with our friends again for 10 days. That’s the longest stop in our current whirlwind European adventure. Should we unpack there? It’s probably not worth it.
Our suitcase has become the most permanent part of our nomadic journey. It has become a “home box” in some sort . . . all of our personal belongings safely contained in one place.
Oddly Comforting
There’s something oddly comforting about “the suitcase life.”
It must be comforting to our dog, Bernie, too. Every time I get out a suitcase to begin packing or “re” packing, he crawls right in. He feels safe there. He is a nomadic, traveling dog who has lived on three continents with us.
Bernie is also screaming, “Please don’t leave me! Take me with you!”
I may actually be sad when I finally sit down my suitcases to unpack them and to settle in my new “home.”
It will have been a long and hard journey, carrying our many suitcases.
It’s our choice . . . “the suitcase life.”
In an odd sort of way, we must like it. We must thrive in the chaos, the messiness, the mystery, the hunting, the scramble.
Most likely, we will settle for awhile in one place. Then, we will become bored again with the order, the structure, the organization of our life.
That day will come again soon when we will know . . . it’s “time to get out our suitcases.”
—The Cultural Story-Weaver
Let’s Weave Cultures!
Have you ever lived the “suitcase life”? What was that season of life like for you?
If you have never experienced “the suitcase life,” you should try it. But, only for a few days!
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.
