As I have said before, putting your whole life into one
hiking backpack for a year is no simple task.
Each month it can take hours to pack it before travel days: one must
ensure that everything fits, and that the weight is distributed evenly (so as
to not end up as a stranded turtle on the ground, flailing ones legs about in
the air).There is the constant concern for airline weight limits. Oh, and let’s
not forget the actual carrying of half one’s body weight. Needless to say, at
this point, everyone on the squad is getting into purge mode. Like serious
weight loss. My friend Logan probably threw out 30 articles of clothing and is
surviving off of 5 shirts, 1 skirt, and two pants. It’s really quite amazing. I
on the other hand, have been on the opposite end of spectrum. I started the
trip with 35 shirts, and at least 15 bottoms. And though I give things away each
month, my stash never seems to dwindle. So frustrating. (It didn’t help that we worked at a homeless
shelter in Ireland
that practically begged us to take some women’s clothing off their hands). My pack came into Africa
weighing 28 Kg, or almost 62 pounds. I started at 46 pounds. Until now I have
only bought earrings as souvenirs!! Where is all this weight coming from??
I have not helped my cause in Tanzania. Casey,
Brittany, and I all have knee length skirts
that have worked just fine in Kenya
and Uganda. But after a few days in Tanzania, the
pastor said to us, “women look very beautiful in long skirts. Verrry beautiful
indeed.”
Now one might be quick to be offended at this attempt to
diplomatically say to us, hey, umm, you guys look like immodest hussies. Put
some more clothes on. But we actually
could not agree with him more. The women here look absolutely gorgeous in long
skirts. They wear these bright, beautifully colored fabrics, that from the
moment we got here, I have not been able to stop staring at. They take a four
by six foot piece of fabric, use it as a tie wrap, baby on your back holder,
head dress, halter dress, coat, long dress tube top. The possibilities are
endless! And we were more than
delighted to ditch our hussy skirts to join the color splash party.
would like to purchase some skirts. After a long hike and adventure through the
market, we came to a stall covered in the fabrics. Our original intentions were
to just buy one or two each, but we couldn’t stop ourselves. We went nuts in
there. After much deliberation, some hemming, and the six poor men who
accompanied us twiddling their thumbs for and hour and a half, we each walked
away with 4-6 khangas for next to nothing.
mother, a wife, 6 daughters, and 2 grandgirls living with him, we were
surrounded with squeals of delight. They wrapped us and unwrapped us, strapped
babies to our backs, tucked our hair, and spun us around. In their eyes, next
to knowing how to make decent Ugali, wearing khangas and becoming skillful with
them, is the only way for us to truly become African-mzungu women.
Yet in all my haste and shopping spree adrenaline, I forgot
about my poor little hiking backpack. I failed to bare in mind my poor
shoulders who would have to carry her. And most importantly of all that we are
about to fly into Asia, which reportedly has
the lowest weight limits of all airlines. Eeek. So buying 8 pounds of fabric wasn’t
such a hot idea??
My only hope is that I am able to find a shipping company in
Nairobi that
can (cheaply) get my khangas home.
Otherwise, it seems, that I may have to get down to 4 shirts and 1 pair
of pants. Which, sigh, is unthinkable and not a level of abandonment I am ready
to undertake.
