This afternoon I said a silent goodbye to my passport as a FedEx employee unceremoniously slid it into an envelope along with a stack of papers needed to apply for my Indian student visa for this fall. I never thought I’d be sad to be without that little blue book. It’s silly really, I’ll only be traveling within the United States for the next month…I don’t need it, what could I possibly do with it anyway?
But after spending two weeks in Nepal with my passport forming a defined silhouette within the confines of a pink pouch against my chest, I can’t help but feel naked without it.
For two weeks I never took my passport off for more than two minutes when I needed to change my clothes. It was safely confined underneath my shirt, pressed against my heart: through a shower I took in a sink and while I slept in bed at night, not to mention through the rain and sweat of our trek. The edges faded from the water exposure, but the shape and form of the book remained the same.
It feels wrong now to be without my travel companion. We go everywhere together. That little blue book has never been anywhere without me until now. I imagine she is en route to Chicago as I type–hopefully she’s got a good seat and a fun seat mate. Maybe she’ll see the sights, explore the windy city and make her way back to Boston.
I’ll look forward to the day she’ll return to me in the mail and we can set off for our next adventure together.