, , , , , ,

I received a package from my sister today. She is always asking me if I need anything and telling me she wants to send me things so, about two months ago, I told her that I needed new iPhone headphones. This is her way of being “supportive.” She said she would send me a pair because they are much cheaper in the US than they are here and today…two months later… they finally arrived in a box filled with other stuff.

In this box was the following:
* my headphones
* one pair of lime green socks with a pompom
* 6 Body Shop tea tree oil sticks
* a bag of bite-size Twix bars
* a bag of peanut M&Ms (for Ben – whom I’m still not dating, before you get confused)
* a new dish-drying mat
* 6 individually packaged Rice Crispy Treats
* 74 sandwich-size empty Ziplock bags

Receiving this box gave me a glimpse into how my sister views my living here. She basically sent me a goodie-box akin to the kind you would send your child at camp for the summer. With one or two important and useful items mixed in with useless or luxury items she must not believe I can get here. While I certainly appreciate the gesture, and I know it comes with nothing but love from her, it still feels somewhat underhanded. As if she was saying “Here is a box of First-world items you can’t buy for yourself out there in the wilderness.” Meanwhile she misspelled the name of my street so badly I’m surprised the box made it to me at all.

But, tell me, what am I going to do with 74 sandwich size Ziplock bags? She brought me a handful of these bags when she came to visit in August and I haven’t used a single one yet… and now I have close to 100.

I suppose it’s the thought that counts.