From Thailand

I've been back in Nakhon for almost half as long as the time it takes to get here (consider that my photography equipment, computer [and backup files], and emergency cash would--in isolation--more than offset the price of the airline tickets). My farang boss offered to pack and ship everything, but considering that I've accumulated a trunkload of trinkets to teach Thai tots and have no vision of how such things could experience practical utility outside of this country, the ease with which something might disappear, or the probability of something being broken in the process of negotiating out of Thailand's post office to it's American peer and to my house unscathed, it seemed worth the trip.
Still, it's been tough getting packed. I didn't realize how much I've accumulated. A lot of it is getting jettisoned, but there's also a lot I'd like to bring home and incorporate in a future life. My speakers/subwoofer are large and important, and while they didn't cost that much, a replacement would. Likewise the pens/colored pencils/pigmenting supplies and the running shoes I brought over. It'd be one thing to abandon a wardrobe of $5 dress shirts and a pair of $20 shoes if I were returning to a lucrative job, but that's just not the case. Which is compounded by "excess baggage" charges.
United charges $70 for a second checked bag, Air Asia charges about $15, and each gets astronomic if a bag is over 20 kilos. I'm already shipping some books, and I'll ship enough clothes to keep the bags to weight specs. So while it seems unlikely that I'll be needing another pair of running shoes, a greater variety of neckties, or shiny spider-weight dress shirts in the next month or so, it seems foolish to abandon them in the face of triple-digit-dollar charges when I can ship them via the rough road for something around $10.

It's a melancholy sort of packing: on the one hand, dozens of pirated kids/comedy DVDs are a reminder of the escapism from the daily grind. Looking at it, most of what I have is a way to get away from daily life. On the one hand, it's sad to see the detritus of so much desperation and discontent. On the other, it's affirming to realize that I've made it through and developed defense mechanisms in case a similar situation ever happens again.
What I hope more than anything is that I'm smart enough to avoid similar eventualities.

It's also been affirming to see the people: without exception, those whom I respect have assumed I'm here to teach, or will resume my post soon. The rest cackle "HARRY POTTER!" or point and stare.
We won't get into the necessity of carrying tissue and sanitizer.

On the one hand, it's sad to leave a place where the living has such potential to be easy. But on the other, Mr Wizard, beam me the fuck out.