Laundry

Laundry.  I love it.  The word, concept, process, and result.  

What I don’t understand is why it is that so many people seem to hate it.  As in “Ugh!  I spent all afternoon doing laundry.”  I don’t understand why putting clothes into piles and periodically putting them into machines and pushing buttons is arduous.  I don’t understand why folding a basket of clean, dry clothes takes more than 5 minutes – a perfect little occupation while watching the news.  And I don’t understand why one would acquire clothing that is too difficult to care for.  (I hate ironing and therefore won’t purchase anything that needs ironing.)  But back to my love of laundry. 

First of all, laundry is a great word.  So much better than “doing the wash”.  A special word for the cleaning of clothes and similar items.  

Secondly, the concept of laundry is fascinating.  What is laundry?  It is clothing (and other textiles) that is in the process of going from dirty to clean, unusable to usable.  You do not wear laundry.  Laundry is either dirty clothes in a pile waiting to be washed, clothes being washed, or clothes that need to be dried, folded, or put away.  Once it is in your drawer, it is no longer laundry.  It has magically transformed back into clothes. 

But the process of doing laundry is weirdly fascinating.  You add soap to water, throw in the clothes, swish everything around and see the water turn that murky brown color.  When I am using a washing machine, I cannot resist the urge to open the top and peak in for the satisfaction of seeing the brown water, or stand in front of the front loader’s window and watching the clothes circle the machine, proof that the clothes I get back will be cleaner than those I put it.  Doing laundry by hand, a task that is more time intensive and laborious also has the satisfaction of that dirty water, and also the dirt collected at the bottom of the wash basin. 

I first did laundry by hand in Bulgaria in 1997.  One day, when I had first arrived in Bulgaria, I was having lunch with a friend who said something like “you know when you’re scrubbing your jeans with that little brush…?”.  Having never washed clothes by hand, yet not wanting to admit it, I nodded.  Several days later, as my pile of dirty clothes grew and clean clothes diminished, I went to the outdoor market, purchased a small brush, and decided this was the secret to washing clothes by hand.  That first time I washed jeans, I was fascinated to see, after having allowed the jean to soak, the dirt at the bottom of the washing tub. 

In Russia, I washed much of my laundry by hand (with the exception of sheets and towels – which I brought to a local woman working at a hotel).  I would put hot soapy water in the bathtub, throw in the clothes, swish everything around, and then go out for the afternoon, letting them soak for hours.  When I returned, the dirt would be at the bottom, I would use my little brush to scrub a few items that I knew needed special attention, rinse, ring out, and hang the items on pipes to dry.  (The drying process was faster in the winter when the pipes were heated.) 

In Ghana, while there for a one-month fellowship, I went out one day, bought a little brush in the market, and each evening would wash the day’s clothes on the shower floor.  Others who hadn’t done laundry by hand before were intrigued and also started to try to do laundry by hand. 

In Georgia, I lived in places with washing machines, but when our machine in Tbilisi broke, I pulled out the wash basin and a little brush. 

Now in Liberia, I have asked a local woman to wash for me on Thursdays.  But, for some reason, possibly due to the use of a washing board, I find that my clothes are getting a little too beaten up.  So, I decided that she can do the sheets, towels, and any items that I don’t care too much about.  And I will do the clothing items I want to keep for a bit longer. 

I know that the first thing I will do when I get home is fill a washing machine with clothes and soapy water and watch the dirt fall from the clothes into the water.  And then use that miraculous machine called a “dryer” to, in under an hour, dry everything.  In less than two hours, all my items will go through the transformation from dirty, unwearable items to items in the process of being cleaned to items that can be put away or worn. 

And what do I get at the end of this process?  Not simply clean clothes.  But the opportunity to wear my favourite items again.  Because most of us wear our favourite items first, dirtying them, and transforming them into laundry.  I would argue that most loads of laundry include favourite items that we are waiting to wear again.  Favourite jeans, favourite shirts, favourite, as a friend would say, “unmentionables”. 

Laundry.  What could be more satisfying?