Thoughts over Morning Laundry
Washing laundry in a blue bucket in the bathroom. I remember Timanet and Bibi who taught me to wash laundry in Haiti. All of us laughing as I tried to make the squelching soapy sound with my hands and my clothes in the water like they did every time clothes hit clothes. Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. I maybe succeeded a couple of times in the three years that I lived there. Maybe. Now, here I am again in my bathroom on the other side of the world with a bucket of laundry and some soap. This time, more than six years later, my bucket is tall and deep instead of wide and low. This time I sit on a low stool in a tile bathroom instead of on a cinder block under a tree. Last week my laundry came out smelling more dirty than clean. Such is life. Here there are banana trees, mango trees, coconuts, rice almost every day. It feels familiar to me. New but familiar. More familiar than dinner in a big city that costs more than $20 per person. Here I can eat for $2 or less. A simple life.