"Home" for us and others in this line of work is more of a state of mind than a physical place. All of our "homes" have a part of our heart. And Bangladesh is now very high on that prestigious list. America is absolutely the land of opportunity, but while we look forward to the conveniences, cleanliness and beauty of her, the rat race and keeping up with the Jones parts are dreaded. I enjoy our slow pace of life. I see that going away... too soon.
About 2 weeks ago, we packed up our HHE (ocean transit, household effects). It was a smooth 3 days. The Homebound movers were BEYOND wonderful, so careful and courteous. I think it unlikely that we will ever again have such a helpful group in this career, though maybe we'll be happily surprised.
When we arrived, we were overweight. Ouch on the finances and a mental note to not do that again. We planned to junk our king mattress, lots and lots of clothes, papers and junk. But we also had a baby here with all the layette to go along, purchased new china and acquired new furniture. And don't even get me started about the intimate relationship we have with Amazon and www.buythecase.net.
We've also said goodbye to our beloved car and in a few weeks we'll adios our last bit of air freight. The empty suitcases beckon our handful of clothes and trinkets to take home for our IL family visit before we make our way to Texas and our new home, which we have yet to find.
It's a regular saying here that people cry when they learn they're being posted to Dhaka and cry again when they leave. Everything is pretty ready, except my mental conception of leaving this crazy place we call home. I should contact the Kleenex folks now to see if they'd like to film a new commercial. Airport day is going to be wet.