If you had to live out of a backpack, what would you bring? I’ve had to ask myself that question quite a few times in my wandering life. Recently, I found myself asking it again, as I sifted through photos and stories of Syrian refugees and the few belongings they carried from home.
A carrier of memories
I am a little obsessed with my backpack. It’s one of those early generation Mountain Equipment Co-op Pika packs, the kind every college girl had about five years ago. Everyone else seems to have moved on to the uber-cool Herschel or the tried-and-true Jansport, but not me. I’m still rocking my cobalt blue, threadbare MEC pack.
There’s a reason I’m holding on to it, though. We’ve been through a lot together. I bought my backpack six months after I finished university. I was about to move back to Senegal to live with my family. Soon after that, it came with me to my very first job as a writer at a news organization in Tunisia. I can still remember packing it with my Moleskine notebook, my favourite pens and a very loud whistle in case I should run into trouble.Read other posts from The Voice.