Expired Condoms

 

In Colombia, I met a Scot. We bonded over Mojitos as we watched the sun set in the ocean just beyond our little table in the thatch roofed bar.  We got to talking about travel as travelers often do, and the conversation turned to how one prepares for a big trip.  I said the planning is all part of the fun for me, and the anticipation of the trip is nearly as great as the trip itself. I liked imagining what it all would be like, who I would meet, what I would see, how my plans would change to go in this or that direction once I got to talking to locals and travelers.  It is as though before the trip happens, it can be anything you want it to be, and is.

She agreed, but she took the planning, and especially the packing, a bit further as I noted when she showed me an Excel spreadsheet documenting everything, and I mean everything, she was taking on her one month trip to Colombia.  There was a color to show that she had packed it and a different color to show that it still needed to be packed

As I looked through the list I laughed a little at how ridiculously detailed it was. She counted out the amount of tampons she was bringing- 27. A number she admitted was much too high for a trip that would only involve one menstrual cycle, and who can count on that when one is traveling anyway. A few spaces below, I noticed another equally humorous addition to the list of things to pack. Condoms- 14. At least she’d need the tampons.

I asked about the condoms. Oh yeah, she laughed. I didn’t have to actually pack those, they were in there from the last trip to Thailand I took. All 14 of them. We both laughed, and then I had to admit, mine were too. And perhaps not even left over from the last trip, but from the last two or three trips I’d taken, all however many of them were in there to begin with.

I had to check and see if they were expired. I don’t know how long they’ve been in my bag, she continued. Me either, I agreed and made a mental note to check mine when I returned to my hostel later that night.

They were not, in fact, expired, but nearing the date nonetheless. And I made another mental note to stock back up on condoms upon my return to be prepared for the next trip I take.

All of the talk about condoms, expired or not, got me thinking about hope. Isn’t that why we packed them, ever so faithfully, each time we left the country? In the great hope that that fantasy we planned in our head in the weeks leading up to our departure, would this time work out.  We might meet the man of our dreams, the man we may one day marry and have an incredible story to tell about how we met in such and such far away place. Or, at the very least, we might have one magical night with an exotic foreigner we met in a bar and made love to on the beach under a full moon.  Bragging rights to those we left back home. And even if it was only that one night, the condom came in handy. And my friend the Scot would have to add one more condom to her toiletries to get her number back up to 14 and satisfy her spread sheet.

I haven’t yet bought the condoms. I’ve been back in the states nearly a month now. It makes me wonder if hope has an expiration date too.  Maybe not buying the condoms means I’m giving up.  Is it possible to use up all your hope and be left with none when you need it most?  

I do not think there is a store we can run into, heads bowed in embarrassment as we reach the counter to pay. It’s just me, buying more hope.

Maybe I’ll buy the condoms.

 

Expired Condoms

 

In Colombia, I met a Scot. We bonded over Mojitos as we watched the sun set in the ocean just beyond our little table in the thatch roofed bar.  We got to talking about travel as travelers often do, and the conversation turned to how one prepares for a big trip.  I said the planning is all part of the fun for me, and the anticipation of the trip is nearly as great as the trip itself. I liked imagining what it all would be like, who I would meet, what I would see, how my plans would change to go in this or that direction once I got to talking to locals and travelers.  It is as though before the trip happens, it can be anything you want it to be, and is.

She agreed, but she took the planning, and especially the packing, a bit further as I noted when she showed me an Excel spreadsheet documenting everything, and I mean everything, she was taking on her one month trip to Colombia.  There was a color to show that she had packed it and a different color to show that it still needed to be packed

As I looked through the list I laughed a little at how ridiculously detailed it was. She counted out the amount of tampons she was bringing- 27. A number she admitted was much too high for a trip that would only involve one menstrual cycle, and who can count on that when one is traveling anyway. A few spaces below, I noticed another equally humorous addition to the list of things to pack. Condoms- 14. At least she’d need the tampons.

I asked about the condoms. Oh yeah, she laughed. I didn’t have to actually pack those, they were in there from the last trip to Thailand I took. All 14 of them. We both laughed, and then I had to admit, mine were too. And perhaps not even left over from the last trip, but from the last two or three trips I’d taken, all however many of them were in there to begin with.

I had to check and see if they were expired. I don’t know how long they’ve been in my bag, she continued. Me either, I agreed and made a mental note to check mine when I returned to my hostel later that night.

They were not, in fact, expired, but nearing the date nonetheless. And I made another mental note to stock back up on condoms upon my return to be prepared for the next trip I take.

All of the talk about condoms, expired or not, got me thinking about hope. Isn’t that why we packed them, ever so faithfully, each time we left the country? In the great hope that that fantasy we planned in our head in the weeks leading up to our departure, would this time work out.  We might meet the man of our dreams, the man we may one day marry and have an incredible story to tell about how we met in such and such far away place. Or, at the very least, we might have one magical night with an exotic foreigner we met in a bar and made love to on the beach under a full moon.  Bragging rights to those we left back home. And even if it was only that one night, the condom came in handy. And my friend the Scot would have to add one more condom to her toiletries to get her number back up to 14 and satisfy her spread sheet.

I haven’t yet bought the condoms. I’ve been back in the states nearly a month now. It makes me wonder if hope has an expiration date too.  Maybe not buying the condoms means I’m giving up.  Is it possible to use up all your hope and be left with none when you need it most?  

I do not think there is a store we can run into, heads bowed in embarrassment as we reach the counter to pay. It’s just me, buying more hope.

Maybe I’ll buy the condoms.