Laundry Day

"Is it okay if I do a wash?"
"What is this - wash?"
"Wash clothing. Laundry."
"Yes. I show you. Temperature you want?"
"I don't know - those are your temperatures. I do not know what they mean."
"They are metric."
"Yes, I do not understand this."
"Colors or white colors?"
"I want cold water for everything."
"Do 40."

The washing machine looks like it's from before the war. And it's tiny. Clearly my cargo pants will have to wait till the next shift. No letting the wash pile up around here.

"How long will the clothes be in the washing machine?"
"Maybe two to three hours."
"Two to three hours!"
"Yes. It is old but why throw out because it is working."
"And how long to dry on the rack?"
"Maybe two days."
"Two days?"
"Yes. Sometimes one, if it is summer."

I go downstairs carrying four different jugs and interrupt James Bond in Italian. "Which one is the detergent?", I whisper.

After this, I will hang them on the triple-folding drying racks they use here. Everyone sees everyone's wash.
I thank him for helping me. "This will be a new experience for me," I say. "I hope not in your whole life," he says.