Thats A Thing?! Part II or, A Plea for Advice

Friends, Family, Beautiful People of the World, Hello!

I know its been a while, and I am a dirty, terrible liar for telling you that I would be posting bi-weekly. Life…you know…it happens. Since we’ve last spoken, I have started my class (most advanced in the program!) and have been diligently glued to my notebooks and electronic dictionary. The weather has been slowly improving, and I finally saw the sun this week after about 2 months of bitter rain and cold-induced depression. Alas, I hope you can forgive me for not being around!

Today, I want to bring up another “thing.” If you read my post: “Thats a Thing?! Part I,” you will remember I talked briefly about the casualness of discussing bowel movements with authority figures. Here, I am using the word “thing” to describe the indescribable differences between cultures of our world, such as the patterns in which people walk down the street, how bar fights get started, or the methods in which we discuss our bathroom habits with people we don’t quite know. These, my readers, are what I have named “things,” if only because I am not sure how else to handle them. 

Today’s thing also has to do with the bathroom. Again, so sorry…I can be pretty gross, I guess. But this time, I also need your advice. I am a young woman, just having left home a mere two years ago, and there is so much more for me to learn about the ways of an individualistic life. So anyone with a bit more experience, having lived abroad or not, lend me your ears (eyes?) as I tell you my strange story.

Laundry. My apartment here has a cute little laundry machine, which sings “Jingle Bells” and begins to fill with water once you’ve pressed the “play” button, identical to the one on your iPod. I guess this is a “thing” of its own, huh? My Jingle Bells laundry machine. But that is not my point. What my apartment does not have is a dryer. This is okay, because – even better – we have a balcony where we hang our freshly cleaned garments to dry in the sun! This is cool, though no good for when your jeans get stretched out. Well, recently I’ve been running into a little problem.

My clothes smell like poop. Yes, poop. Should I say feces? Okay, feces. My clothes smell like feces. Like fecal matter. That of a cow, or maybe a dog. It’s simply unruly. 

I’m not sure if it is the air, or the water, or my laundry detergent, or what but my laundry certainly has an odor that lingers while wearing the poop-clothes. Now hopefully, you will understand why this is a problem. Its an embarrassing situation to be caught up in, as no one really wants to smell poop, or to smell like poop. Is this the natural state of clothing that has not been dried in a machine with special sheets of fragrant happiness? Is this the effect of China’s incredible amount of pollution (that is slowly killing me?) Or is the toilet water being re-used as laundry water? Maybe I am horribly confused about how laundry is done. Maybe I should have to live with my parents until middle age (just kidding, Mom!)

What should I do to fix this mess?

Please understand, there is no physical poop involved here. Just a terrible smell reminiscent of poop. So…yeah. 

 

Well, this is awkward. I sure do talk about poop a lot, huh? I hope you don’t feel uncomfortable reading this, thinking about this girl with red hair walking around a foreign country smelling of fecal matter. I feel uncomfortable writing it, actually, but sometimes its good to get everything out in the open.  

 

Let me know if you can help. I’ve been wearing the same, non-poopy clothes for days. And now they are dirty. 

More Later,

 

Namaste,

Hallie 

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