So Here’s the Thing…: Notes on Growing Up, Getting Older, and Trusting Your Gut(18)

1 Something similar, but with a little more slapstick verve, happened in Russia: Our first trip there—also during our first year—coincided with Michael Jackson’s funeral, and Mel Winter and I asked if we could skip the Moscow event to watch the memorial service on TV. POTUS and FLOTUS didn’t get it, but they also didn’t care, so they said sure. We were in the middle of watching Mariah Carey belt “I’ll Be There” when the door to the room opened and in walked a set of FSB agents looking…exactly like FSB agents. They must have assumed everyone was at the event, but if they were surprised by our presence in the room, they didn’t look it. In fact they didn’t acknowledge our presence at all; instead they just made a casual loop and walked out.





SEVEN THINGS THAT ARE ALWAYS IN MY SUITCASE





Lint roller because, well, cats.

A lounge outfit—as close to pajamas as I can get and still be acceptable in public—to debut in the hotel dining room at breakfast.

Shower cap: Though this used to be standard along with shampoo, lotion, and bar soap (why is it only bar soap?!), lots of hotels don’t put them in rooms anymore.

Round brush in case I need to fix my hair. I usually blow it out hoping it will last the whole trip and it never does.

SO MANY TAMPONS. Because you never know.

Acetone nail polish remover wipes in case my nail polish chips. Chipped nail polish is like nails on a chalkboard to me.

ZzzQuil to help get my sleeping back on track.





Why You Should Always Listen to Michelle Obama



At a state dinner in Tanzania, I found myself in oldest-child mode. I wanted to be the foreign ministers’ favorite. The way to accomplish this, I figured, was to eat everything placed in front of me, with gusto. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Not another IBS story! Just wait. This meal was very meat-heavy, which can be a red flag, but after a couple of tentative bites I thought everything they were bringing out was safe. Actually, not just safe—good. The goodness of the meats lulled me into a false sense of security. I was chowing down, gesticulating wildly at the person next to me, one of the most interesting people I met on our travels, Dr. Asha-Rose Migiro, who had just returned from a post at the UN and was the first woman in Tanzania to be sworn in as minister of foreign affairs. Then I happened to glance across the table and see FLOTUS with a grave and foreboding look on her face. Directed at me. I paused my treatise on the Great Migration in the Serengeti to try to figure out what was going on. Squinting a little, frowning subtly so that she’d see I was trying to communicate telepathically with her without letting my confusion alarm any of the foreign ministers, I mouthed the word “What?” She began shaking her head.

When Michelle Obama is discreetly shaking her head at you, stop whatever you’re doing. It doesn’t matter if you have no idea what she’s referring to; she’s always right. But I thought she was talking about the meat. And unfortunately I became a little defensive. There was nothing wrong with the meat. By that point I was an expert at determining if food was bad, and this meat was not bad. This meat was delicious! As I was performing this cross-table pantomime, trying to defend the succulent lamb I’d just devoured, a waiter presented me with a warm towel that I used to wipe the succulent lamb juice off my hands. And, possibly, that I dabbed daintily around the edges of my mouth. As I tossed the used towel to the side and resumed eating, I thought I noticed a look of disappointment flicker across the First Lady’s features. She had given up on me.

Well, it turns out the Secret Service had informed FLOTUS that the warm towels we’d been using to freshen up between courses were not, actually, fresh. I got giardia.

Also known as “beaver fever”—after hikers at Banff National Park became ill from drinking stream water contaminated with giardia from beavers—giardia is a parasite. Symptoms usually appear one to three weeks after you’ve encountered it. I was in so much pain I genuinely thought I had appendicitis or a rupturing ovary, and I spent most of that time sprawled out on the floor of our house in Georgetown like one of those chalk outlines at a crime scene on Law & Order. Now I’m always conscious of what unexpected items might be carrying contaminants and how travel disaster can strike when you least expect it.





Dan Pfeiffer on How Platonic Life Partners Help You Avoid Catastrophe




In addition to his long list of professional accomplishments, Pfeiffer holds one of the most esteemed honors in politics: being my platonic life partner (PLP). Since I’ve benefited from his advice and companionship for years—he introduced me to Angry Birds—I asked him to dispense some wisdom on friendship (aw!) for my book.

As the custodian of my IBS secret during our trips with POTUS, you were perhaps too aware of all my digestive crises. Was there ever a time you really didn’t think I was going to make it?

There is no human walking the planet in whom I have more confidence. I always knew you had a plan for all situations, including and especially emergency access to the toilet. I was a LITTLE worried your long-awaited meeting with the pope might have been a little too long awaited…if you know what I mean.

Be honest: What’s the most annoying thing I’ve done on a trip, foreign or domestic?

This question is a trap, and I will not fall into it.

What’s the closest you’ve ever come to causing an international incident on a foreign trip?