It was the dry season and everything was covered in dust - the seat I was sitting in, the bus window I was looking out of, the air outside. And there, on the dirt covered ground of a Malawian bus station stood a mother with her two children. All their belongings were wrapped in a single bed sheet. What voyage lay ahead of them, what dangers, what uncertainties? What circumstances drove this family to pack up and move?

Sometimes journeys are planned and expected, sometimes they are simply necessary, and sometimes they are forced upon us. As I pack for California, for grad school, I think of this unknown family making their way to a new destination. My souvenirs from Rwanda take up just as much space as all their belongings.