During my recent drive at house-cleaning, I look with dismay at the amount of stuffs that savagingly attack my sanity — clothes, books, my favorite electronic collections (cameras, camcorders, radios, cassestte players, audio+video recorders, CD players, CDs and tapes, MP3+ MP4 players, gamers, computers, laptops, kindle, cellphones, ipad, tablet), documents (legal, medical, and financial documents), tons of them, that have followed me from Texas to Ohio, to Indiana, to Virginia and finally found their way to Kansas.
I thought of my sister’s son. I was like him when I first entered the States 27 years ago, with only two luggages, not even as big as his. Over these years, stuffs seem to have mushroomed and multiplied beyond control.
I also thought of thousands of immigrants like me. They must have seen the same exponential increase of material possessions and must be deeply buried by their “wealth,” though I am not sure one can enjoy it.
To be continued…