Uganda Pt.5: Laundry

As I'm sure you are aware, there are no washing machines in Rwanda or Uganda. At my homestay, our houseboy does my laundry for me. We did not have a houseboy in Gulu. I also did not have any clean shirts when we got to Gulu. I'm sure you can see where this is going. I've gotten pretty good at cleaning my underwear, but I wasn't entirely certain how to go about washing my considerably larger t-shirts and skirts. However, my complete lack of a shirt and looked or smelled anything that might be mistaken for clean made it necessary that I make it up as I go along. Fortunately, there was a wide plastic bucket for laundry-doing in our hotel room, so I filled it up with water and hunkered down on the balcony with my bucket, my large pile of laundry, and a bar of soap. I had just started, tentatively rubbing the soaped-up armpit of my tank top together, when one of the hotel maids came out on the balcony. She looked at me, my bucket, and my pile, and asked, “You are washing?” I responded that I was trying. She laughed, then walked over and took my shirt out of my hands and proceeded to scrub it, rinse it, and hang it on the balcony railing to dry, all in under 30 seconds. I know she is considerably better at doing laundry than I am, but I don't think she understood exactly how gross my clothes were. Then she reached for the skirt on top of my pile, asking, “This too?” When I said that it was all dirty, she smiled and tried to take all my laundry to do it for me, saying, “It is fine, it is fine,” but I insisted on keeping it. I told her that I wanted to learn, explaining that I could do it now that she had shown me. I don't think she had any faith in my ability to get my clothes clean, but that's ok, I didn't either at that point. Eventually she smiled and surrendered my laundry, and I was able, much, much more slowly, to make my white v-neck white again, though I noticed later that I'd missed some spots. I got better later, it's white now. I attempted to follow that woman's example, but it wasn't until later that my friend Justine pointed out to me that I was doing it wrong; doing laundry is not supposed to result in huge scrapes on your fingers. I had just been rubbing my clothes together between my fingers, but apparently you're supposed to rub with one hand against the palm or wrist of another, so it's less abrasive on the skin. Now I know. I'm just grateful that my host family didn't notice the scrapes on my fingers before they healed. That would have been rather embarrassing. Despite my initial mishaps, I really enjoy doing laundry. I find it very relaxing. I'm looking forward to doing it more in the future.