you should always listen to what you’re parents say…
My dad said this thing once when I bought my 
korg keyboard that is at home waiting for my return, stands almost as tall as me on it’s side and weight 80lbs, “if you’re going to buy it, you need to be able to carry it. You can’t always rely on help to come because there will be moments you have to do it on your own.”
And as his wisdom resounds in my head, I’ve developed one of my packing convictions. YOU CAN PACK AS MUCH AS YOU WANT AND HAVE AS HEAVY A BAG AS YOU WANT AS LONG AS YOU CAN CARRY IT.
Most of the time, this isn’t put to the test. Carrying a bag outside someplace we’re staying and into a pile for the bus doesn’t require much effort no matter how large or heavy the bag. Kyiv was different, however. We took the metro from our place by Kontraktova Ploshcha to the main train station. I have my large backpack strapped on, my camera backpack on the front, a bag on the side that holds my projector (yes, I’m now traveling with a projector, long story – but it’s awesome) and a didgeridoo that I’ve been holding onto since Australia back in February. One transfer, 25 minutes of standing and balancing between a car jam packed with people and the abrupt starts and stops on the line made it more than your run of the mill metro ride.
You know that moment when you have been exercising for a while and then your muscles get put to the test by something as simple as walking down stairs. This is the moment when I think to my self, ‘pull it together, if you collapse now your going to look like such a pansy!’ And this has become my reality at this point, but I’m determined. I was week in my legs and sort of felt like throwing up from all the weight on my body and being a bit dehydrated. A few readjustments and belabored moments, soon we would be at the station. We arrive and I’m a little sweaty under my clothes despite the 48f degree weather. An understated feel of accomplishment rushes through me – I carried everything!
We made some great friends in Ukraine and many of them came to the station to see us off. It was one of our best months and one of the few I can very practically see going back to some day. Our friends made a sign, hugs and last minute goodbyes on the train and a woman yelling at them to get off was our last view of Kyiv. As a few ran with the train as we departed from the city, I was sad but so satisfied in my heart.
Leaving is a part of this trip. It’s a part of life. Sometimes it’s harder than others.
