Dona E. Bowens

I landed in Barcelona nearly 20 years ago with everything I owned in a large duffle bag. I could have fit Kevin Hart in that duffle and I’ve been a diehard duffle bag traveler ever since. Can you overstuff one of those hardbody suitcases like I can with a duffle? When I came to the US back in 2022, I got everything I owned into my 3rd generation duffle and four boxes. The latter I mailed back using an international moving service that promptly lost one of the boxes containing, among other things, every shoe I owned. I arrived in Ohio wearing a pair of flip flops and I had one pair of chucks in my trusty duffle bag. When’s the last time you owned just two pairs of shoes? The lost box is something I put out of my head rather quickly. When you travel light, you have to be ruthless when you cull your belongings. I ain’t gonna lie, there’s been moments over the last few years when I’ve mourned something from that lost box, but mostly I’ve replaced stuff, especially the shoes.

I really replaced the shoes…a lot.

And now that I’m in ruthless-mode again, how about I just threw out an entire garbage bag of shoes? Some I only wore a couple of times. No sooner than my barely clad feet hit American soil than I started consuming like a mofo. Well, I had to have more than a pair of flip flops and chucks if I was hoping to get a job in the outside world, right? Then I became an Amazonaholic. I’m on step $2—denying there’s a problem. Now, we had Amazon in Barcelona but it was more pain than pleasure. I used it a handful of times, if ever. There were no porches on which to leave packages and if you weren’t home to buzz in the delivery guy when he rang, he’d tape an illegible note to the door telling you where you might pick up your package—on the other side of town. So Amazon wasn’t my jam…until I moved back to America and had my whole house come out of the back of an Amazon delivery truck. Bed and frame, TV, my first couch and 3 armchairs all landed on my porch courtesy of Jeff Bezos…that sweatshop owning, oligarchical billionaire out here making my life so fucking convenient. Bastard, I can’t hate you like I ought to because I still have packages arriving tomorrow.

Yeah, that’s right. I have packages arriving tomorrow. Especially since I’ve been told that there’s no Amazon in Uruguay. How are these poor bastardos getting by? Are they actually going to stores and buying shit and carrying it home themselves? The horror!! To avoid further horror, I’m having Jeff’s minions deliver a few things that will find space in my big ass duffle bag. The same duffle that came with me from Barcelona. Bitch has been itching for another adventure before her zippers give out. I’m packing some things that I know will be in short supply down Uruguay way. I know they love meats, but have they tried steak sprinkled with a little Lawry’s Seasoned Salt? Yassssss, I’m that ghetto. I’m so ghetto that, not only am I stocking up on Lawry’s but Olde Bay and Frank’s Hot Sauce, too. No shame in my game. If I’m going to get gout from being perpetually belly up to the parrilla, might as well make it tasty.

I’ve checked and triple checked and Uruguay seems to have a substantial population with hair like mine. Black folks. And where there’s Black folk, there’s Black Folk’s hair product stores. However, until I find one of those stores, it’s Amazon to the rescue of my coiffure. Plus, my girl on the ground (Hey, Dana!), told me that these things can get pricey comparably. So, I’m stocking up on coconut oil and panty liners until my cheap ass finds a cheaper way to get these essentials where I’m going. And any woman over 42 years-old, who happens to cough, sneeze or laugh, knows how essential panty-liners are at this stage in the game. #Realtalk

The ruthless culling of the unnecessary isn’t for the weak. I take breaks when it gets too hard and remind myself that it’s only stuff. They will have more stuff where I’m going. Surprising stuff I never imagined. Maybe even better stuff than the stuff I’m throwing on the dust heap. I’m about to find out.