Laundry day

It is time to face Laundry Day. We have laundry facilities, which I am grateful for. As fun as washing laundry at the Boro Hole (pump) might be, I am glad I don’t have to lug my wet, clean(ish) laundry across the hospital campus to the drying lines. Handily, there are lines just out the door from the washing sink. This is what we call laundry facilities.

Washing machine

So, armed with my detergent from the local grocery, I set out to work. But I realize that my idea of hand washing is to fill a sink with suds and water, swish, swish, swish and rinse, but there’s no stopper here. It occurs to me that I am imitating a washing machine, and perhaps it should be the other way around? I scrub the first shirt and then decide that much of our laundry isn’t as dirty as I thought and I refold it. Wah lah! Half of the laundry is already finished!

I observe the Amayis (mamas) at the pump later that day and discover that they plug the drain hole with old plastic bags – aha! That makes the next laundry attempt a bit more effective. But, I’m sure I have a ways to go. Memory, the guard who is stationed outside our building, followed our friend Charlotte into the laundry, stood over her shoulder while she worked and exclaimed “I think you are being lazy!” and pushed Charlotte aside to do it herself. Ironic, I think, since Memory spends the vast majority of each shift lounging in her chair or sprawled on the ground waiting to see what funny thing the Azungus (white people, that’s us) will do next.