The Joy of a Washing Machine

Usually the only times Cholpon or Nurkalyi or anyone else ventures to the end of the hallway where my room is, it’s to call me for food.

I was reading in bed (big shock, right?) yesterday, when Cholpon stuck her head in my room.  I was already hopping off the bed and answering that I was coming when I realized she was saying something about “help” and “big.”  I followed her to the front door I imagined that maybe she needed something reached up high – I am the guy for those kinds of problems after all.  My theory was thrown out when I found a big 3’x3′ or so box on the front stoop.

“Help me bring this in the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah ok.  What is it.”

“A washing machine.”

I never quite expected that there were be a moment in my life that I would feel so much joy and excitement to have access to a washing machine, but damn if I didn’t just then.  Not only do we have running water to a sink and a toilet (no shower though)  in the house,  but a washing machine is an almost unheard of luxury in a small village like mine.  I would be surprised if more than a half dozen of the 700-800 households in Kara Suu have one.

I don’t really complain about washing clothes by hand, because that’s just the way of life here, but let’s just say it’s not my favorite.  It takes a really long time, I’m not good at it, and clean clothes don’t tend to stay that way for long.

Cholpon, Asel, and I struggled to get the really rather heavy machine into place in the bathroom and then hooked up.

Yesterday I got to throw a load in.  It was awesome.


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About Cole Bedford