Decoder for "The Storm"

• It is rather incredible that laundry inspires me – it does take rather a long time, so perhaps that’s the preoccupation.

• And, as much as I wish, the laundry is always there and MUST be done – days in advance of the need for a specific item, as it takes days to dry.

• My technique has evolved to locating the wash/rinse process in the tiled shower in the CR – and serendipitously, everything is clean when I finish – the clothes, the shower, and me.

• Three containers of water are filled: one with detergent, one with rinse water that quickly becomes soapy, and a third with the final rinse.

• We do not have warm water here, so everything is done with cold water, and it takes no time at all for the water to become dark dirty brown with sweat. I change the wash water at least 5 times during the process.

• Because there is no counter, I try to elevate the tubs by sitting the wash tub on top of the toilet; however, I still have to bend over, and the rinse water is on the floor and I bend and lift, bend and lift. You have to squeeze out the water three times – first to get the soap out (or else the rinse water doesn’t really rinse), then to get the soapier rinse water out, and then to wring out as much wetness as you can. The final wringing is outside when you hang the clothes to dry. This is a lot of aggravation to my joints – and I can feel it for a while.

• The shower is usually populated with things every morning, including the excrement from the tuko, who gobble up ipis (cockroaches) throughout the night, and poop them out (usually very considerately in the shower), with the interesting way of lizards – black poop and one hard, bright white – something. Thus, although I always wear flip flops, there is some filth, which ultimately disappears down the drain.

• During the rainy season, it is quite dark during the day and light is needed to wash the clothes. I live in a duplex and our electrical wiring is quite funny. When either I, or my neighbors, go in and out of their kitchen – and the door cracks shut – the wiring shorts…and I am left in darkness. This typically happens 3-4 times during the 3 hour laundry.

• I need to scurry with a batch of clothes to not dribble in the living room as I rush to hang the clothes outside on the pole my landlord installed for me. The clips I use are multicolored and look like the jaws of alligators (happy ones). However, there is not enough space on the pole for laundry when I let it go more than a couple days (it is so hot here that I have to change clothes at least twice daily – so there are many clothes to wash). So, I have strung wire in the kitchen and hang extra there – “Damit” is the Tagalog word for “clothes”.

• And the clothes hang for days…and are usually at least damp when I wear them.

The Storm

Heaviness hangs in the air – the storm looms, yet I linger in bed, staving off the inevitable.
And so It starts – heavy water fills first one, then another, and yet another cistern – water that will dirty to
    sludge in minutes
Heaviness as cloth is sliced through with wet, repelling at first, then accepting of its fate
My own advancing wetness… feet, torso, face


Slow and steady, rhythmic motions, felt in the arms, the back, the legs
Knowing I am no longer young and that ache will linger
How long will it last this time? How long will I last this time?
Filth from the night drains at my feet, and vanishes in the onslaught of the storm.


Working in the Light, then a crack, and sudden darkness
Slipping while trying to get back to the light…another crack, and more darkness
Moving quickly through the wet and musty darkness, outside to the rainbow of alligators hungry for the
   coming food
Mouths open wide, snapping at whatever they can grab; while inside, from a prison of wire, hangs even more
   cloth – Damit!
The alligators hold on fast, fast for days, until at last, damp release

Another week’s laundry is complete.