Mama Laundry

(view out my window this evening)



There are five washing machines in this student complex. Five washing machines for 400 students. And one of them is broken. I'm no math student (and even when I was, I wasn't....really. I was reading my book in my lap while 8th grade teacher droned on about parabolas and algorithms.), but that is just BAD PLANNING. And what does it all equal? Waiting an hour and a half just to be able to put my laundry in the &^()%$* washer. So many kids juanted into the room with their enormous bags full of disgusting clothes and stopped short, mouths agape, to see ten of us packed into this tiny, sweaty room, miserably waiting for a shot at the washing machine. They turned on their heels, muttering "Well, I guess I'll do my washing tomorrow then..."

Somehow, in all the hubbub, I became the expert at laundry. 18-year old freshmen boys are asking me,

"Right, so...um...do you know what permanent press means?"

"What temperature should I do my shirts? 30C? 40C?" (Why they were asking me that question, I have no clue, as I'm STILL unclear about the celsius/fahrenheit formula (see above: math class))

"Can I wash these two things together?"

"What do you mean, I can't dry jeans??"

"What do you mean, I can't put this red jumper in with my white t-shirts?? WHY NOT? Come on, please??"

And as I'm trying to read Watching the English in the heat of the tumble dryers, an anthropological study on the personality of the English, an anthropological study is happening right before my very eyes. The Polish guy in line for the washer behind me notices that one of the washers isn't ticking the minutes down anymore, it's finished.
"Someone's clothes are ready!" he announces.

"Right, yeah, actually, I saw that, er, but, whoever it is isn't here..." mumbles a sweet young Brit.

Me: "Wait a second. This washer has been sitting here, unused, this whole time? And you knew that? I thought your stuff was in there. How come you didn't just put their stuff in a dryer?"

Brit boy: "I CAN'T DO THAT! It'd be...RUDE! I don't want to be...RUDE!" His friend nodded eagerly, concurring with the sentiment.

The English will go to painful lengths to avoid the discomfort of being impolite. To an American like me, this is outrageous. Just because one person hasn't thought to come back and fetch their wet laundry doesn't mean that the other 397 students should have to suffer through the remaining THREE WASHING MACHINES. I speak my mind, and everyone around me looks hesitant, and shifty-eyed. One boy ventures, "Well, when the beef is cooking..."

"What the hell does that mean?" I ask. "Consensus here is...?" cue shifty eyes.
"Allright, I'LL JUST DO IT." I shove the three t-shirts and few pairs of fancy underwear into a dryer and allow the next person queued ahead of me to put their stuff in the machine. About a half hour later, the girl came back and apologized profusely for forgetting that her stuff was in the machine. She didn't seem to mind that I moved her items to the dryer, although that might have been the English in her, avoiding being impolite by showing me that she was peeved that I touched her laundry. I guess I'll never know.

In other news, I cooked an entire meal for myself tonight. Quite a feat for me, because, you know, that's what cereal is for!!! And boyfriends!! It was the first time I've ever made rice (granted, with my roommate's rice cooker, but still).
Behold: sweet & sour tofu & brown rice. mmm...



Scenes from skype: : )