If a woman goes on a trip, she probably will spend the night before packing. I am one who writes a list of all the stuff I need and found myself preoccupied with packing as soon as the TV news program ended at 7:30 pm.

Top priority goes to underwear. Because we'll be staying in different hotels each night, I can't wash my clothes. I need to have a new set, including socks, each day.

For meetings, I need formal dress. For evening banquets, something more elaborate. As for the brief sightseeing tours, I feel better in sports gear.

Then there are the medicines. Bandages in case I cut my hands; berberine tablets for my stomach if it rejects the new food and antiphlogistic pills in case I catch a cold. Also I need cosmetics, sunglasses, hat, camera and batteries. And of course my diary, just in case I can't fall asleep on an alien bed. It rains a lot over there, so I need my favorite umbrella.

What if my leather shoes get wet?

So in go a pair of sandals.

I finally retired but jumped out of the bed again: Swim suits! Goggles! And cap! As I paced the room counting fingers, my husband asked: "Hey, are you going to the desert? You are like an ant moving to a new home."

"Don't interrupt me. I should have a pack of cards to play with my colleagues."

Women are like ants diligently enjoying their lives. And men seem to rejoice over simplification.

"Hey there, my button came off. Do you have a needle and thread?"

"Sure, white or black?"

At a fruit stand, men will pause: "There's nowhere to wash them."

"I've got disinfected paper," I'd reply, turning out a small pack like a magician.

"You've got a treasure bowl," the men would praise, and I would be flattered, forgetting my heavy load.

Before a trip, a woman would concern herself with the weather and the souvenirs of the destination.

I will spend all the leisure time shopping. When I come home, I will carry the year's fresh tea for our parents, exotic candies and cute toys for the children, cigarettes for my husband and dried fruits for my colleagues.

How different it is when a man goes on a trip. My husband leaves for the airport at 10 am, but he is watching football games at 9.

"Aren't you packing?" I ask. "What to pack? Ticket, passport, money. I've got what I need."

He wears the suit, has two shirts with long and short sleeves. An overcoat if it's cold. At the most, he carries a laptop.

"Don't you need more clothes?" "All the hotels do the laundry and iron the clothes well."

From the airport, he goes straight to the hotel and conference hall.

He gives no time to shopping. When he looks up occasionally to find palm trees and sandy beach outside the taxi, he might ask: "What's this place called?"

The only souvenir he ever brought me was a dark, hand-made bag.

"Ha ha, this is so old. Give it to grandma," said our daughter.

"I should have known better," grumbled my husband.

The article first appeared on Beijing Youth Daily

(China Daily 07/22/2008 page20)