At 8am, Mike the neighbor with the truck, the muscles and the know-how was knocking at my door. At 8:30, six neighbors and I were scurrying back and forth across the street, like excited ants transferring our prize from one nest to another. My too-beautiful-to-part-with bedroom set was going to the home across the street for some extended TLC. This seems like a win-win - teen-ager gets new bedroom set an d I don't have to sell it.
The next job for "Saint Mike" was to load and transfer my very large and heavy dining set to friend and new owner. She is thrilled and I am thrilled that she is thrilled. Next, newly annointed "Savior Mike" is loading up all the left-overs from my "estate sale" - turning it over to people who love yard sales and gleaning through stuff. Blessed are the hoarders and gatherers for they shall inherit my stuff.
The estate sale itself was a combination of overwhelming, fascinating, annoying, gratifying and fun. I was fascinated by what people were interested in of my stuff. Hey what's the story with the guy who is looking at my old violin music? That must be a cool lady who loved my big basket from Bali! I bonded with a new neighbor who recognized the Burning Man dust on my tent. I had stories for so many items - the basket from Kenya, the scarf from Egypt, the etching from Switzerland, the needlepoint my mother made, the flowers my aunt painted. It just seemed right and important that the new owners knew a little piece of these stories. As a friend said, it is just energy moving out into the world. Bye-Bye I am now shocked that all of my worldly belongings can fit into a corner of my brother's garage.
After saying good-by, crying, hugging, laughing, crying, dog Bodhi and I jammed the car completely buldgingly full and made the 9 hour drive to San Diego -v-e-r-r-r-y c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-l-y-y. Please God, no silly accidents or injuries at this stage! Arriving, and dumping out all of the stuff I haphazardly threw from the house into the car, I must face the big test. Can I really squeeze all this stuff into my 2 bags? Unloaded, unorganized and scattered all over my brother's living room, I begin the final sorting, consolidating and cramming.
Bodhi is content in his mostly familiar San Diego surroundings with rabbits to chase and beaches to romp upon. I have eaten several years worth of scones, carrot cake, cheese cake, salmon, pizza and ice cream. This needs to hold me for 27 months! And talk about indulgence, my sis-in-law drew me the most luxurious bubble bath I have ever seen - complete with candles and soft music. Ahhh - this takes me to my new favorite Peace Corps joke - one-half glass of water: pessimist sees it half empty; optimist sees it half full; Peace Corps volunteer says Gee, I could take a bath with that!
On June 6th, picture me arriving in my new home in the southern hemisphere - land of unfamiliar starry nights, land of King Moshoeshoe and the Basotho's, land of music and song.
To my villaage -you know who you are- I am in deepest gratitude for all the love, physical and emotional support, time and energy you have offered. You have made this journey possible.