Sit & Spin Cycle

I had my first experience with doing laundry in Thailand. In the Western World, for those of us who work in a corporate-type environment, we are accustomed to taking our dress shirts, trousers, and suits to the local dry cleaner. These establishments are typically a mom and pop type establishment, and the owners are stereotyped to be of Asian descent with a knack to remove any stain, no matter the culprit. Being a teacher in Lampang, Thailand, is similar to that of the corporate-type workplace in the Western world. I wear a short-sleeved dress shirt, tie, and linen or cotton trousers to work each day (a unique hybrid of Mormon Missionary & NASA employee circa 1963). At the end of the day the first thing off is the tie; usually before I even leave the school building. When I arrive at my apartment, I ditch the shirt, cuff the trousers and throw on my flip-flops. Those of you who know me, know I like to keep it real casual. I have a laundry basket in my closet that I throw my dirty clothes in each day. Last Thursday, after work, I realized my laundry bin was beginning to reach its maximum capacity. What’s worse – I was running low on short-sleeved dress shirts to wear to school.

Being brand-new to this culture, I was unsure of what to do about this. Where does one take their laundry? How do you know what detergent to buy? Is there fabric softener? These questions and more began to run through my head. Instead of trying to figure it out on my own, I decide I will ask the lady who works in the lobby of my building. This woman is quite androgynous in nature. In fact, I’m not a hundred percent sure that she is a female. She has the Thai-equivalent of a soccer-mom-hair-cut. It’s short all around; good for no-fuss no-muss after the weekly shower, and nothing to worry about during the mid-day torrential downpours of the rainy season. She is relatively flat in the chest (not that I’m looking), always wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and her teeth reflect the lack of dental care that is predominant in the region. If I had to equate her to a Chicago landmark – it’d be a lesbian living in Andersonville, transplanted from Northern Wisconsin. She is always incredibly sweet and makes a point to say hello (sawaddee ka) to me every time she sees me. I politely smile and try my best at Thai. She laughs and sends me on my way. This time was no different. I quickly consulted my Speaking Thai: The Fastest Way to Speak Thai book, and found the words to ask about laundry. I found her in the lobby watching a Thai talk show, and eating sunflower seeds. I proceeded to ask her about laundry (ran-sak-haeng), and how much it will cost (nee rah-kah tao-rai). Between her bad English, and my slaughter of the Thai language, I some how manage to learn something about a basket, my door, and 08:30AM.

Still a bit bewildered and confused, I head back up to my apartment. The following morning, Friday, I decide to give this laundry business a try. I leave my full hamper in the hallway, in front of my apartment door. Hesitant, I proceed to work; wondering the entire time – did I just donate my clothes to some starving child that is being sponsored by Suzanne Summers on a late-night infomercial? Would my next adventure be shopping for new clothes, akin to the Jolly Green Giant raiding the closets of the Seven Dwarves? I try my hardest to put these thoughts out of my head for the day and concentrate on my classes. The end of the day comes, and I am all too anxious to head home to find out what has become of my limited wardrobe. I dart through the lobby, butchering my sawaddee ka as I pass-by my local lobby lesbian. I get to the top of the second floor and slowly round the corner. My apartment is within view, and there, just as I had left it is my laundry basket. As I approach, I notice that the laundry is neatly folded. The dress shirts have been pressed and hung on hangers; trousers pressed and neatly folded, my underwear was even pressed and neatly folded into tight little balls of supportive bliss. I couldn’t believe this – laundry done while I work! Western World you can keep you Laundry Land and Spin Cycles, dollar-to-wash dollar-to-dry business – I had found the ultimate in Thailand luxury.

I open my apartment and eagerly pull in my gift for the day. I begin to sort through my laundry, putting things back where they belong. And while they smell fresh, it isn’t quite the Snuggles Bear, Fresh Downy scent I’m used to. Upon further inspection, I also notice that Clorox, Oxy-Clean, or Tide with Bleach Alternative are a few main ingredients I will be learning to live without over the course of this experience. You have not seen “ring-around-the collar” until you’ve seen my once-white dress shirts that I wear to work. Maybe I spoke to soon about the dollar-to-wash, dollar-to-dry business. Needless to say, these shirts will be lucky if they make it through a semester, let alone the whole year. On the plus side – it should be some light packing on the return trip home.