My lost luggage and other things that I'm not bringing to Joburg

I really wanted my first ever post to be a positive "new year, new me" about all the things I fell in love with about my new home the first week I arrived. However, at the time of writing this I am fuming because the universe had other ideas and my suitcase didn't make it with me. I've already told every man and his dog what happened. But one thing to know about me is how much I love to beat a dead horse so here's the story again:

Al and I had two checked in five suitcases in total. I'm not sure if that's too much luggage to take with you on the flight when you move country (even by gay standards) rather than ship more luggage separately but there is no guide book with practical tips on how to emigrate (if there is or if somebody knows something about anything please let me know).

11 hours later we land at OR Tambo International Airport - welcomed by beautiful Johannesburg weather. After a gentle interrogation at passport control, we headed to the luggage carousel where we picked up 4 out of 5 of our suitcases, swiftly. I picked up what I thought was the last one (the one with all my clothes) but it was an identical suitcase belonging to another passenger. The carousel stopped churning out luggage and we soon realised that the other passenger likely picked up my suitcase by mistake.

I've almost lost hope that I will be reunited with it again as its been days now since we arrived and there's no word from the airline and no trace of my suitcase. My theory is that whoever has my suitcase has cleverly managed to crack the code to get into it (it's 000), loves all my excellent fashion choices so decided to keep it and is likely dripping from head to toe in my garments as you read this now.

I know its only "stuff" and of course it's all replaceable but it's really irked me. Moving to another country is hard enough as it is - I've left my home, job, friends and family and on top of all that I now barely even have a pair of pants to call my own. Maybe I'm being a little dramatic but I felt stripped of everything of my own for our first few days in an unfamiliar city.

Anyway, I am slowly moving on from this traumatic event and it has made me think about all the other things that I'm leaving behind in London (beyond my material possessions), which is the inspiration for my first post. This list is non-exhaustive and as follows:

The grind as the default setting

Looking for work out here is something that has been causing me continuous low level anxiety since I made the decision to quit my London job. I had only just passed my probation when I had the audacity to ask my manager if I could work remotely in South Africa. Being as deluded as I am I was genuinely quite shocked that my request was declined and so I handed in my resignation without any future job opportunity lined up in SA. It felt reckless of me to do so and I think its because in London, so much of are identities are entwined into our careers and, for me, I often measured by self-worth by my professional success. And while I still consider myself to be an ambitious person, I'm going to try my best not to feel guilty about taking a pause out of corporate life (and recognise that I am very privileged to be able to do so) while I settle into the relocation.

The pressure to always be progressing

As I take a temporary break from the rat race, I also shake off the feeling like I'm slightly behind where I should be in life. I could achieve one thing but then soon after want the next best thing. I think that's part of the reason why Al and I wanted to live abroad - constantly had itchy feet and needed to be elsewhere. This mindset meant that I was always living slightly in the future. Planning the next version of my life instead of sitting in the current one and truly believing I'll reach fulfilment if I just get 'X' - it could be a better job, a bigger flat or pricier post code or planning the next trip. Moving to South Africa has already forced me to take each day as it comes to avoid being completely overwhelmed and I'm going to aim to appreciate the day-to-day a little bit more.

Mistaking proximity for connection

I'm so lucky to have some beautiful friends in the UK who I will miss everyday. But I do also love meeting new people and believe your social circle should partially evolve as you progress through life. Moving to a new place where I have zero mates is going to force me to find new ones. I'm actually not concerned about this part due to my sparkling personality and it gives me the opportunity to make new friends as I am today, rather than who I was, say, 10 years ago. There have been some (rare) occasions in London where I could be surrounded by people but still feel oddly separate, busy or distracted. Partly because its easy to fall into the same social routines or habits where sometimes these should change. Moving country is a like being given a clean break where I can curate a new social circle from scratch. One advantage of this do-over is that I am also free of my over-optimised social life in London where some catch ups had to be booked weeks in advanced or squeezed between hectic lives. I'm going to take advantage of the fact that my spare time can be filled with spontaneous plans depending on my mood.

So glad you could make it

If you've gotten this far thank you for reading to my ramblings. I'm still not sure what shape this blog will take but for now I'm envisioning it'll be part moving diary, part figuring-things-out-in-real-time. And some posts will just be my observations - things in Joburg that surprise me, confuse me or make me laugh. I'm not expecting to reach any grand life conclusions so there will be no "I've found myself" and someone please slap me if that happens.

Please hold my luggage in your thoughts and prayers.

Notes from 26° South.