Things We Own

Last night or early this morning someone stole my iPod.  I've looked everywhere and it's simply gone, somewhere else, possibly already sold, newly decked out in its "Guernica Skin" which was sent to me as part of my Christmas gift.  I'm disturbed by the ramifications of this loss, mainly those pertaining to people who once appeared trustworthy and who now I question, "Could he have taken it?"  Several people had opportunity and, although one stands out, I'm not sure enough of the time line to even tell myself that I know it's him, much less make an accusation.

This loss stings.  It was new.  I made the difficult decision to buy it back in Dubai, feeling that I would value the company that music can offer during those times when I'm alone.  I've enjoyed it during the past five weeks but now it looks like I will not continue to enjoy it.  I tell myself, and even believe somewhat, that it's only a silly little possession, that when you're traveling like this you must be prepared to lose anything you bring with you and you must strap those things to your body that you can't afford to lose.  I tell myself that I'm a rich man in a place filled with poverty, where people can't imagine owning a device so expensive and any temptation to take it from me that the average citizen of Kathmandu might have felt is wholly justified.  My loss is not tragic or even particularly sad in light of what I see on the street every day.  I tell myself that it's one less thing to worry about, that I'm lighter now, free of one more thing I owned that maybe ended up owning me just a little.   But still, it stings.