Still Unpacking, and I'm Old(er)

First let me say that it was not lost on me that when I gave the first update on unpacking our stuff, I posted an Amazon ad for a book on leading a minimalist lifestyle. I'm curious how it ends. When you are done reading this book, throw it away; you don't need things, remember.

The unpacking process is a bear of a task. But by the second day, I had achieved a couple of small victories such as finishing the kitchen (about one-third of our stuff goes in the kitchen) and all of my clothes.

I decided that this was a good time to get rid of clothing that is in tatters, out of fashion (Natalie might say they were never in fashion) or just never worn. I did a little of this pre-pack-out, but you don't really appreciate how much garbage you own until it is paraded through your front door by a bunch of Mexicans.

This is one of the youngest shirts to get tossed out; I'd estimate it to be circa October 2005. It was part of a Halloween costume in which I donned a Bill Clinton mask (Natalie was Hillary; in no way did we have any idea that she would be working for Hillary for the State Department five years later.) By the way, now that Hillary is the chief diplomat, does that mean Bill is the chief EFM? Anyway, I was never really that picky. I think Tiffy might be a closet Republican, and she sleeps with us all of the time.

Moving right along, you might think this T-shirt is from 2003, but it is actually from the class of 2003, which means this one is circa the Summer of 1999. This was my first "free" college T, which was courtesy of a bookstore for spending way too much money on books. I later learned that I could buy the book, copy the chapters we would cover, and return the book for full value. The copies only cost maybe $10 to $20 as opposed to the $150 or whatever for a new textbook (which I also still have somewhere, speaking of collecting garbage.)

Reaching still further into history is this high school football state championship T-shirt, circa December 1996. I'm proud to say that not only was I a member of that team (I kept the bench very warm), but that 14 years later, the shirt still fits. This wasn't the oldest high school football T to get tossed out this time around either, but they were all pretty close to each other. These shirts had a little sentimental value, but not to the new minimalist version of me that can do with out.

I can't confirm it, but I'm fairly certain this was the oldest shirt I could dig up. The front of it says Kentucky Wildcats Basketball 1995 (or is that 1945?), so I would estimate it to be a birthday or Christmas gift from 1995; the only times I really got new clothes other than right before starting a new school year. That would make this sweatshirt 15 years old (still fits), and in a somewhat unrelated note, I turned 30 today. I'm no mathematician, but by my estimations, I have been wearing this shirt for half of my life.

In all, I filled a box with about two dozen shirts, many of which were at least 10 years old. I guess I'll see what the local flea shops will take, but many are probably too tattered even for a Mexican flea shop. But at least I lightened the load for future moves.

Air Freight Nightmares

Before I delve too deep into our lessons learned about packing air freight, let me first call your attention to a new page to EF'M. It has a permanent link in the left column with the disclaimers, but it essentially is a list of hated, and thus replaced, State acronyms and phrases. Instead of typing out "air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes the use of UAB)" every time, I'll just link back to this page.

Moving on, we failed miserably in packing our air freight. Which is doubly embarrassing considering we drove to post meaning we should have had amble space for bringing necessities to Hermosillo.

Part of the problem stems from the fact that we made too many assumptions about the welcome kit. For example, we left behind our toaster and coffee maker thinking those would have to be in a welcome kit. I'm also wishing we would have brought a cookie sheet or two as well become some frozen food just doesn't microwave well.

Alas, we are toaster, coffee and baked goods-less for the next month or so. In fact, our kitchen is quite bare and makes cooking a dreadful, unfulfilling task. I didn't realize how much I love my gadgets and seasonings until I've been asked to cook without them.

"But you guys had 450 pounds and a car load. What did you pack?" you might ask. And a good question. Also by not knowing our welcome kit, we've doubled (and tripled) up on some items. For example, our government-issued bed came with bedding. So did we. Two sets of bedding, actually. But wanting to use government bedding is understandable, I suppose.

The welcome kit also came with towels. So did we. Almost our entire linen closet made it here, actually. This was part of the problem with our pack-out plan. Natalie was in charge of the air freight while I kept an eye on everything else. And we didn't really do a good job of prioritizing our possessions.

That, and Natalie really likes clothes. And she brought everything except her dead-of-winter wardrobe. The good news is that she has her Emmitt Smith Cowboys jersey I haven't seen her wear ever. And at least two bath robes, including the heavy one, which is so necessary in the desert in the summer. She also really likes hangers. I'd estimate that we packed about 30 pounds of hangers. (The welcome kit also had about 20 of those.)

I shouldn't pick on her too much, though, because I probably went a little over board on the clothes as well. I brought all of my dress pants because it is important to be dressed while sweeping sand and doing dishes.

We also had to take care of Tiffy by packing a 50 pound bag of dog food in our air freight even though we were driving with about 30 pounds or so in the car. Better safe than sorry, I suppose, but I highly doubt we'll be opening another 50-pound bag of dog food before our ground/surface/sea freight arrives.

There are a few success stories, however. We had our desktop computer and printer sent in the air freight. For anyone else shipping a printer, it is a good idea to remove the ink cartridges before it is sealed because I guess those tend to leak when jostled about.

I also smuggled one frying pan, spatula and pizza cutter without Natalie knowing. When I told her, she was a bit annoyed, until we started using it. The welcome kit does come with some pots and pans, but I would hate to rely on these for much more than boiling water. They are on the thin side, and I couldn't imagine trying to cook anything like a chicken breast on it because the outside would get crispy well before the inside would be done.

The major lessons learned are this. You don't need nearly as much clothes as you think you do. You'll have a washer and dryer after all. And get to know your welcome kit. I wouldn't ask the post what is in it, because it is a pretty long list. Rather, ask specific questions, such as, "Is there a coffee maker in the welcome kit?" That should not take the people working at the post quite as long to determine.

Good luck to those of you who have pack-out day on the horizon, and please learn from our mistakes.

Our Luggage is Here...So Where Are We?

NOGALES, Ariz. - So I lied yesterday. You get one more scintillating posting before we find ourselves on foreign soil.

Natalie is spending the morning doing some consultation work with the Nogales Border Control while I use my remaining hours in our motel room in this bustling city. Well, by bustling, I mean deserted. Last night, we represented half of the rooms booked in this motel. It is kind of depressing.

Though they still served us a free hot breakfast this morning. A woman arrived to work for one hour (for $6) and as we approached the lobby, she asked if we wanted ham or sausage with our eggs. Meat and eggs? I was expecting an old toaster and individually wrapped bagels like at the La Quintas.

We said yes to the ham, and then she surprised us with eggs, ham, sausage, hash browns and toast to go with our coffee and juice. That was all free, though given the fact that we are on a per diem, which we've been way under, and she was nice and working for so little, we felt obliged to leave a generous tip with her.

When I found out we were crossing at Nogales, they might as well have told me we were crossing at La-La Land, as I have never heard of this place and had no idea what to expect. My impressions was this city's last economic "boom" occurred in the 1970s, maybe earlier. There are several vacant buildings with for rent signs including a neighboring motel, the Bud Get Inn (I assume it was the Budget Inn, but who knows), that didn't make it and a gas station across the street that is vacant as well. I think the only thing keeping this city going is the one-night guests that don't want to traverse Mexico at night. So they drive to border, stay the night, maybe get dinner, and cross the next morning leaving Nogales behind.

Anyway, the big news of the day is that while I was using time to catch up on some blog reading, I received a phone call from our regional security officer letting me know that if we need any last minute items (as if our car could hold anything more) that I could stop by the Wal Mart. Then he also added that our air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes UAB) has arrived already!

Other than for the obvious reasons of having more of our stuff here already, this also is a huge bonus for me as it will give me a lot to do in these earliest days of adjusting. Unloading our car and sorting those items is a small task that I figured I could knock out before today is over.

Unloading and sorting our air freight will keep me busy most of the day tomorrow, I imagine, as that also has our desktop computer and printer in it.

At this rate, it shouldn't take much time at all before our Hermosillian (?) home starts to feel like our home.

EFM: Exit without Final Meal

Reading other blogs, many writers talk about eating from their favorite restaurant one last time before leaving for post or for home, or enjoying their favorite dish one more time without knowing when the next opportunity might present itself.

Hell, one of my favorite reads is named for this phenomenon, For Lack of Tacos.

I don't have such a restaurant or cuisine in Crystal City or the D.C. area that has climbed to that status.

There are a couple of places I like, such as the Kabob Palace on S. Eads St. I highly recommend getting take out from there at least once for anyone living in Crystal City. That is the restaurant Natalie and I would frequent most often, though that just means we went there about a half dozen times or so per year.

Unrelated note, but I've only known if this place post-Sept. 11, and I'm quite amused by their prominent use of American flags on their to-go containers, but as a Pakistani restaurant, I can understand why they do. I'm not questioning their American patriotism; after all, they've done quite well here, but I'd be curious to find out if they've always had those containers.

Anyway, you know it is good food and probably pretty darn close to authentic due to the fact that there are always many cabs parked outside.

We also like Pizzaiolo, which is almost catty-corner from the Kabob Palace, but if I never eat there again, it would hardly be categorized as a tragedy. And we used to like Jaleo a lot, but then they went and changed one of my favorite tapas - apples manchego.

Part of this lack of restaurant loyalty stems from the fact that I'm no longer a picky eater as I was growing up, and I want to try something new if we are eating out. Another reason is that we just didn't eat out that much while living here. It's too expensive and too unhealthy, and I enjoy cooking.

And the desire to try something new has continued to play out as we say our "see ya laters" to our D.C. friends. We are hitting up new restaurants instead of turning all nostalgic about a few of our favorites.

For three years, this posed only a small problem when we had visitors who would come and ask us to take them to our favorite restaurants while they were in town, but now that we are leaving and getting ready to embark on a lifestyle that favors those who don't let their roots grow too deep, I'm more excited about the new restaurants and cuisines we'll get to try than I am worried or disappointed about missing out on what I already know.

The Trooper

Apparently, I've underestimated my dog.

For the nearly three years we've had Tiffy, we've always lived in the same apartment. Sure, there have been trips during which she's stayed in hotels or other homes, but those were in different neighborhoods.

I wasn't sure what to expect out of Tiffy after moving to a new residence in the same neighborhood, though I figured there would be some awkward moments in which she would try to take me to the old building during walks.

Hasn't happened. In fact, after being out for 20 minutes or so, she starts dragging me to the hotel as if this has been our routine the whole time.

In our old place, as soon as we got into the hallway, she knew where to go to get to our door. She isn't quite there yet here, but as we approach our door, she picks up the scent.

Obviously this place is much smaller than our apartment, but I think she might actually prefer the hotel. All of our windows were too high from the ground and had too much crap around them for her to be able to look out. Our hotel's windows stretch to the floor, and she loves to sit my the window and look out.

I can't help but wonder if she realizes she is looking down on the neighborhood. Does she recognize anything? How far can she see? When one of us leave, she runs to the window to look for us. Any chance she can actually find us?

Leading into the move, I was worried how she'd react to everything. And while she knew something was amiss, she has adapted with apparent ease. She is more resilient than I gave her credit. Perhaps she'll thrive in Mexico, too.

Pack-out Diaries, Epilogue

Dear Pack-out Diary,

After 15 hours total, the movers/packers wiped their hands clean of dealing with us. All of our possessions, save for those we can carry in our car, are in some remote location, hopefully starting the 2,500 mile journey to Mexico.

I've got a few leftover items that didn't make it into yesterday's post, and a few other observations from our experience to wrap this series up.

First, someone who knows a lot more about etiquette than I needs to put together a comprehensive book on the rules of tipping. I'm at a loss on this topic. There really isn't rhyme or reason to what is a good tip and who you tip.

For example, the first time a gas station attendant pumped my gas, I felt obligated to tip him, so I gave him $2. He looked surprised. I told my dad the story, and he said that is because you don't tip gas station attendants. Why not? We tip bell hops for flagging down a cab or moving our bags on a rolling luggage rack.

So, yesterday morning as the movers/packers were finishing the job, Natalie called Free Studies Inside (FSI) to get their advice (Natalie edit: actually, it was the travel office), because we felt like tipping here seemed appropriate. Plus, as I mentioned yesterday, we liked these guys; even the schmuck was a nice guy. (Though our opinion is subject to change depending on the status of stuff when we get it.)

The word that came down from FSI is that the government doesn't cover tipping the workers, and that often times, people provide food and drink for the workers. That would have been good to know during the first day of packing, but not so helpful during the second day. (And to add insult to injury, not only did we not buy them lunch, we ate our lunch in front of them...we aren't bad people, just ignorant on these matters.)

So we tipped each of the three movers $40 at the end of day yesterday. I have no idea if that what was cheap or overly generous, but I say that compares pretty favorably to a $10 lunch. Though they probably didn't feel that way on the first day of packing.

Also during the first day of packing we had lots of visitors. The State Department sent over an inspector, which was surprising because we didn't ask for one. He was a very nice guy and gave us one good piece of advice. Buy a guest book for our travels. The moving/packing company also sent an inspector.

I don't really have tips for how to prepare for pack-out other than it seems that unless you dedicate an absurd amount of time sorting through every thing, you won't ever be 100% ready. We were ready enough that our air freight shipment (I now consider UAB obsolete) has most of our necessities. Though the ratio ended up something like this: Natalie - 350 pounds; Tiffy - 60 pounds; EF'M - 40 pounds. I guess this was my penance for poorly overseeing Al's pack-out.

If we had this move to do all over again, I suppose I'd spend more time preparing our air freight. That is probably the only good, over-arching piece of advice I can offer.

The thing is is that every one's situation is different. For us, about 80% of our items were going ground/surface/sea (so long to HHE, too). For non-local hires, I'm guessing there is a lot more going into storage.

Pack-out Diaries, Chapter 3

Dear Pack-out Diary,

This morning marks Day 2 of the pack-out, and I'm waiting for the call that the mover/packers are here to finish the job.

Before I get any further, I apologize in advance if I come across particularly caustic this morning as I didn't sleep well two nights ago - nervous about the pack-out, I presume - nor did I sleep well last night either - our alarm clock went off in our super-secret hidden bunker that will be our home for the next week. Mind you, we didn't set; rather the previous guests did. But I'll save my complaints for a later post, and to be fair, I'll wait a little longer than one night to give my impressions of this place.

Instead, I'll turn my Righteous Laser Beam of Justice (patent pending) toward yesterday's events as well as previous events that led to yesterday's results.

First, I liked our movers/packers, which is good because we spent 12 hours together. There were three of them, and one was very nice and helpful. The second was quiet, but he appeared to be working very hard. The third was a bit of schmuck, but he was helpful in the beginning in explaining to Natalie that she had about 2,000 pounds of stuff marked for UAB.

Second, I've heard several stories about over-aggressive packers that wrap up everything from garbage to cats quicker than the foreign service family can keep up with them. This definitely was not our experience. We began with the Post-its system, but after our UAB was ready, which happened quickly, it essentially morphed into a pile system. All of our storage stuff, which wasn't much, was piled on one of the couches going to storage. That, and large furniture items in the bedroom and living room were for storage. Everything else must go! And the bathroom was off limits for packing.

After several hours of packing and loading, Natalie and I started finding several items that had not been packed. Most of them were in the bedroom where the schmuck was working, but there were a few items all over the place. But we did get everything we wanted packed eventually.

Third, I raised a question before about pack-out privacy, which wasn't a problem for us, but many comments pointed out that these guys have seen everything during their careers so there isn't any judging. In fact, while talking with the guy working the kitchen, he said he often gets asked about the strangest things he packed. Well, we added something new to that list. That is all I'm going to say about said item; it was in the kitchen.

Fourth, during about the eighth hour of pack-out, I asked our kitchen guy how many pack-outs he does a week. They work five days a week, which is shocking considering they were in the midst of 12-hour day. He explained that they receive a worksheet every day they start a new job describing the estimated weight, number of workers and how many days the job is.

As I described earlier, the guy with the magic calculator estimated it was a two-day job. By the time that information filtered down to our three packers/movers, it morphed into a one-day job. Well, at some point during the day, they called to say one day was impossible. Typically in jobs like the one we had, they would arrive and pack one day, and move everything the next.

Finally, one of my continuing complaints is stupid acronyms. I've been a part of two pack-outs now, and during the pack-out, I've never heard anyone say "UAB" or "HHE." The movers don't use these expressions. I'm not entirely sure they even know what HHE means.

Why does the State Department instill this vocabulary into its employees when at the time it matters most - pack-out - the people packing stuff don't use these terms.

UAB = "air freight" or "air"
HHE = "ground freight," "sea" and/or "surface"

There are probably more terms the movers use, but these are the ones I've heard in two pack-outs. State, please stop using UAB and HHE! It only confuses things. If you must use acronyms, which I don't think you do in this case, let the movers pick them.

Recalibrating Normal

The past week, well, the past few months, have been all sorts of different.

It seems as though we always are coming or going, or going and coming, hosting guests or parties, or being guests somewhere or the guests of honor at a party. Non-stop since Natalie passed her Spanish test.

I found myself doing some dishes in the midst of the pandemonium , warn out, and thinking to myself, "I can't wait until things finally settle down some and return to normal."

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, it quickly was replaced with the thought that my old sense of normal is probably obsolete. I need to recalibrate my sense of normal.

Between now and June 30, when the movers come, we will be busy preparing for the pack out as well as tying up a few loose ends.

After June 30, life definitely won't be normal because all of our things will be gone, and we'll be living out of suitcases in a hotel within view of our old apartment, which will be empty save for a few cleaning and painting supplies.

Then there is the six-day drive to Mexico.

And then a new life awaits south of the border in a land in which I won't be able to talk to the vast majority of the people and the temperature will be flirting with 120 degrees F. And that will be as close to my old version of normal as I will come for the next two years, so in order to avoid depression and the fear of the unknown, I'll be needing to rethink normal.

At least I am conscious of all of these changes. Poor Tiffy is about to go through all of these changes without any concept of what the hell is going on.

EFM: Extricating Floral Memento

As a continuation to yesterday's less-than-serious ponderings of relocating (and massive consumption) of alcohol, I do have one lingering concern about what migration means for my possessions.

For the most part, we don't own much of value. Other than electronics, I think our most valuable possession in monetary terms is our bed set, so it isn't like we have a lot of hard decisions as we prepare for pack out day. Cheap furniture, books and a lot of winter clothes go into storage. Most everything else is coming with us because there isn't that much more. One of the benefits of never owning a home is that we got pretty good about limiting our possessions. Space, or lack there of, dictated that.

But we do have personal items that while limited or entirely lacking monetary value hold a great deal of sentimental value. How many family photos do we want to take to Mexico to make Hermosillo feel like home? All? Doubtful, because there always is the lingering risk that something happens to our shipments or our new home. Fortunately, many of our photos are backed up on the Internet and hard drives as they have been taken on digital cameras.

Some possessions do have some monetary value, but the sentimental or personal value greatly outweigh that. For example, Natalie has some of her mother's jewelry, and she would be just sick of anything happened to it. I have a basketball signed by the 1996 University of Kentucky championship basketball team that I didn't even want to bring to D.C. with me. I have no idea what the ball is worth (several of those players went on to the NBA probably increasing its value), but it remains one of my most prized possessions and I would never think of selling it.

All of those items, however, store pretty well. They're relatively small, and they don't need any care. The same can't be said for my brother's tree.

In 2004, my younger 22-year-old brother died. My parent's home turned into a greenhouse over the next couple of days as friends and family had potted plants sent there. A tradition I really don't understand.

I was living in southeast Ohio at the time, and to lighten the load (and save one more plant from being disposed...there is only so much room for plants in one household), I decided to take one small plant with me back home. It probably was no taller than six inches at the time.

The plant moved from Ohio to D.C. with me in 2005, still a smallish shrub, but it was growing to maybe a foot and a half. In D.C., with a little help from Miracle Gro, it shot up several feet. And when we left D.C. for northern Virginia in 2007, the plant barely made the move with us. As it only had to travel a few miles and we needed to rent a moving van for our furniture anyway, the plant was able to move with us.

Now towering at probably 10 feet (it is hard to gauge, and it already has hit the ceiling and is now growing horizontally), I know the plant can't come to Mexico with us. At least in its current state. My mom, who knows much more about plants than I do, thinks I can lop off the top portions to make it more mover friendly. Then new limbs will start to grow, she said.

Truth is, I'm not overly concerned about the tree being able to move to Mexico with us. I have other, more meaningful objects that remind me of my brother. But I don't want the thing to be merely discarded. I'll look into trimming it and seeing if that makes it movable, but otherwise, the only other solution I can think of is trying to find some place to plant it. (Though Mom thinks it will die in the winter if I do that.)

I've moved on that I don't need this plant sentimentally, but it would bring some piece of mind to know that the plant will live on.

A Hodge Podge Kind of Day

Too much going on these days that I'm going to have to bust out some bullet points to cover events. But I'll lead off with some highlights from last night's Fatiguing, Self-Inflicted (FSI) course on the logistics of moving overseas.

First, let me say that I did learn some good pointers about preparing for the movers. Piles, people. From anecdotal evidence, the movers pack everything in site, so you're best off creating piles of things you want packed together. Some examples included the movers packing a family's garbage, which they received with their second shipment*. Another funny story was about a cat getting packed. Fortunately, depending on your perspective, they realized the cat was packed before boxes left the building and were able to get it out**.

*I plan on addressing this more later, but the State Department uses the expressions (and acronyms) unaccompanied baggage (UAB) and household effects (HHE) to denote the two shipments of luggage you receive after arriving at your post. Wouldn't be a lot easier just to call them the first and second shipment? That seems less confusing.

**I like animals, even cats. But cats make terrible pets. Sorry, it's just how it is. If a house cat weighed 90 pounds instead of 9 pounds, it would eat you. Even at 9 pounds, cats spend most of the day thinking if they could fit you in their mouth. As an historical side note to this, cats are last animal that have been domesticated (dogs were the first), so maybe in another 50,000 years, they'll make for better pets.

So while the class had some good stuff, the main pitfall was that it was too general to be applicable. And I noted as much on my evaluation. Maybe start with the general stuff and then break into groups that will have similar pack-out day experiences. For example, the people moving to China will have a different experience - and therefore need different information - than those of us driving to Canada or Mexico. Or maybe create courses called The Logistics of Moving Overseas...in (X Country).

To wrap up, so far I haven't had great FSI experiences, but I'll keep going if for no other reason than to get more material to write about. That's right, I'll keep sacrificing my own time for you, the readers. Now let's tackle some bullets:

• First a shout-out to my local in-laws, and regular EF'M readers, Eric and Mindy, for taking Natalie and me to a Wizards game Monday night. I'm not much into the NBA, but seeing a game in person is an entirely different and more enjoyable experience than watching it on TV. Secondly, as bad as the Wizards have been the past two years, when I attend the game, they've gone something like 5-1. (Wizards, you should treat me to every game, and maybe you'd win more.) We plan on returning the favor by taking Eric and Mindy to a Naranjeros baseball game when they come to Hermosillo (2010 Mexican Pacific League Campeones! That is number 15, baby!)

• A member of our Hermosillo contingent had a baby boy earlier this week, so congratulations are in order.

• You probably won't be getting any weekend updates because Natalie and I are going to Charlottesville, Va., to hit up some wineries and Monticello with another couple. We created a list of things we wanted to do while living in Virginia, and this has been on there for a long time. And we realize this is not the last time we'll be living in this area, but this is kind of a farewell-see-ya-later tour that we are doing because we are foreign service rookies, and this is the kind of things rookies do.

• And finally, there is a new, unofficial countdown as Natalie received word from the Hermosillo Consulate that they would like her first day to be June 28. This moving thing keeps becoming more real every day.