Hopefully, this will be my last mention of the “suitcase” — packing was made to be a big deal for us participants of the RIAS journalist exchange. And as I have mentioned – I’m a casual (at best) packer. 

I found myself comparing luggage on my flight to Berlin from America. Is his bigger than mine, I thought more than once. A man in the row across from me desperately trie to cram in a suitcase double the height of the overhead bin — squeezing, pushing, zippering. Removing minuscule things like papers and documents. It’s too damn big, dude! I wanted to yell. After 10 minutes, well seven at least, he gave up. And then returned to his damn seat. He wasn’t even IN that row — he was encroaching on someone else’s space. Not mine, of course, because I had already tucked my blue jewel of a valigia snug into its place. 

I connected with another journalist from our group when I got off the plane. Hale, stranger, well met. Or whatever that expression is.  We cabbed it together to the hotel, then later trekked off for a little explore. It was then that he admitted: “your suitcase is smaller than mine.”

Time to shut off all further chatter about the *L-word. Promise. 

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