Kathleen's Adventure Artifact

When my sister and I set off to see the world a year ago, my daughter gave me a silly parting gift, a fuzzy stuffed yellow creature meant to represent a giant platelet. With eyes.

“It’s to keep you healthy,” Annie explained. Well, it’s done a good job of that, but it’s done other things too. The platelet soon acquired a name, Xícara, which means teacup in Portuguese. And as we traveled through the developing world, Xícara developed a personality as well. Sometimes enthusiastic, sometimes cantankerous, always self-absorbed, she sent Annie regular travel updates with photos that featured her sliding down a scree-covered hillside in Chile or in front of such sights as Machu Picchu and the Taj Mahal.

Xícara became an alter-ego, an ongoing joke with Annie, and—because she was always with me in hostel rooms, train berths and grass huts—a constant reminder of home. She also became a way for me to connect, however fleetingly, with strangers in other countries. People would see me taking pictures of her, laugh, and help. People I traveled with but could barely talk to would hold her up and smile. So Xícara became a double souvenir—a reminder of my daughter’s affection and sense of humor, and also a fuzzy yellow memento of people I encountered on the journey.