The airlines lost my luggage. I have never had to deal with lost luggage before. After a long flight, there is no worse feeling than watching the conveyor belt turn and turn and turn with no sign of your things. Slowly you see all the people from your flight walk away with their treasures. You stare despondently at the empty luggage cart for which you just wasted 3 lira and have nothing to put on. Then you try with your crap Turkish to find the customer service people.
Perhaps it is a good thing I was alone because I would probably have found some way to blame Feraz for losing the luggage had we been together. I had to wait two hours in the customer service room before they even talked to me. When they refused to do anything to help find my suitcases, I pleaded “Please, you have to find them. My whole life is in there.“
On the Saturday night before I came, I was talking to a friend who asked how I planned to pack for going away for over one year. I replied, I am about to find out. I am not a great packer in the best of times. I recall one trip to Switzerland where all my friends showed up with carry-ons and I came with a massive full size suitcase. I didn’t hear the end of that for the rest of the trip. (But people did borrow the many warm clothes I brought along!!) Feraz always groans when we go somewhere because somehow I always manage to convince myself that there is a ton of crap that I have to have with me. Eighty percent of it usually goes untouched or unworn.
Before I left the US Feraz and I were driving and I said to him, “I can tell you the story about every piece of clothing and jewelery I am wearing. I can tell you who gave it to me or the thought process I had when I got it, who I was with and what price I got it for.”
I guess my point was that although I have more clothes than any human should, almost everything I own has sentimental value of some sort. I love shopping because I am materialistic but I also love shopping because I like hunting for a good deal, making plans with friends, walking around seeing all the colors and sparkles, finding a fabric that feels like magic against my skin, putting outfits together like an art project and then finally sitting down completely exhausted and spent from shopping and eating a big meal that almost always includes a chicken burger, fries and coke. It is an experience. In some ways it is even like a sport. In other ways, it is just really sad.
But how do I look at my masses of clothes and decide what I will take with me? At one point when I was deciding to pack a shirt I thought, this is too hippie-ish, you don’t really dress like this anymore. Then I thought, but think of all the hippies you will meet this year. Who knows, you might need it come next year. Eventually, I sorted out all the best of the best. I picked my very favorite things and packed them up into two suitcases with a dismal 50 pound weight allowance for each.
Then the airlines lost it all. My life. Gone.
It seems appropriate that as I am back in Istanbul, my magical place of discovery and self-improvement that God sends this challenge to me. Lately, I have been spending a great deal of time reflecting about materialism. I am a materialistic person and I am a recovering shopaholic. (Feraz may disagree with the recovering bit.) I love things. I especially love nice things. I have no shame in saying that I hope to one day have a full Burberry wardrobe. It is classic and timeless. It is fashion perfection. Those silks and cashmeres, the perfect cuts, the fact that you can never put a price on a dress that makes you look ten pounds thinner.
But as I try to become more socially aware and more sensitive of my role in the world, I have to acknowledge the realities of consumerism, capitalism and superficiality.
Islamically I feel there are conflicting views sent about materialism or wanting the ‘good life.’ There are various accounts that stress that we should ask for the best of this world and the best of the hereafter. The Believer does not take an oath of poverty, and in fact one of the most famous and respected imams was said to wear a new garment each day. On the other hand our own Prophet lived by very humble means. Was he applauded because as a leader, it was more relevant for him to live humbly so as not to alienate himself from his followers? That he had to sacrifice first because he was asking others to sacrifice so much for this new religion? Or was the humility in his lifestyle the lesson itself?
Allah says in the Quran, “If it be that your fathers, your sons, your brothers, your mates, or your kindred; the wealth that ye have gained; the commerce in which ye fear a decline: or the dwellings in which ye delight – are dearer to you than Allah, or His Messenger, or the striving in His cause, then wait until Allah brings about His decision: and Allah guides not the rebellious.”
It is the most holy of months, the most blessed of days. And so I lost my things. But I have my life. I have my lips with which to worship Allah, to ask for His mercy and for His help. Blessed are we who get to see another Ramadan. Who are given another chance at redemption. It is ok for us to want the best of this world, to want that which is material. But when things happen that take away some of our wealth or health or happiness we must strive to remember that nothing can be more dear to us than Allah, that we should cherish nothing more than guidance and truth and with that knowledge we must find peace.
Surely, we are only travelers in this world. We are bound to lose things along the way. I am grateful that it is only luggage that I have lost this Ramadan.