packing up and parting

I hate packing. I hate moving. I hate packing and I hate moving. I hate packing, I hate moving and I hate living out of a suitcase. It is kind of incredible how much stuff I seem to have accumulated over the past two years. I didn't think that I had that much stuff, and I think that compared to some other volunteers, I don't, but it still seems like a lot when I have to go through it all. I have started to separate everything out into different boxes: one for things going home, one for things I'm packing, one for things to leave here for other PCVs and of course trash. Whenever I am packing or moving, a big bit om my mom's pack-rat gene comes out. I have some pretty random stuff (some of it sent to me, some of it acquired who knows how) that I just don't know what to do with. Do I really need this? No, probably not, but it doesn't need to end up in a landfill either (or in this case in a burning trash pile). I have some clothes that are completely falling apart that I just can't seem to part with and also some clothes that are perfectly fine . . . except the fact that they don't really fit me well anymore (and I haven't worn more than a few times in two years). Getting rid of this kind of stuff is a bit of a struggle for me, but it will have to be done. The only saving grace for me right now is the fact the my dad will be taking a suitcase (or two?) home for me.

Part of the problem right now is of course the fact that as soon as I start packing, and I mean really packing, then it means that I am really leaving. Every day I get closer to the end here and I have to say goodbye to someone else. It may not seem as important as saying goodbye to my friends and coworkers, but I also sort of have to say goodbye to my house and stuff. Over the past two years, my house became a bit of a sanctuary for me in times of stress and loneliness. It was a place that I could invite friends into, but also a place where I could just be by myself and just be myself, away from the sometimes staring eyes of the people in my community. My house had it's problems, but in the end I love it and I will miss it. Even the frozen pipes and weird noise that my toilet makes . . .