Washing Day

No wonder the Victorians called it Washing Day.  You can forget the 1hour quick wash and whiter than white over here.  Washing clothes in Uganda is near impossible to get right.  The major challenge is that everything is covered with dust.  Red dust.  It gets onto everything and it doesn't brush off.  The second challenge is that there is no hot water.

In the bathroom next to my bedroom, there is a tap over a shower tray.  This has been where I have been bent double working on each reddened white trainer sock, trousers and bed linen for nearly 3 hours.  The bucket proved essential and, having scrubbed all the clothes individually with soap, I adopted a plunging technique to continue the wash.  Frequent water changes and more soap continued to coax the dirt out.  But not completely.

It was on my knees in the bathroom that I came face to face with a cockroach about 5cm long. Blimey, it moved fast, with a horrid clicking noise.  It is now trapped beneath a heavy plastic cup until I can bear to figure out what to do with it.  I also share my room with Ethel the lizard.  She becomes most active at night, scurrying under the bed and behind the pictures to snap up any mosquitoes she can find.  I doubt she'd be quick enough for the cockroach, but I am happy for her to stay.

I swear I will treasure our Bosch washing machine with renewed appreciation when I get home.  I'm really missing home and my loved ones.