When I was five years old, my grandparents invited me to spend a week with them in good old Burley, Idaho. It was to be a fun-filled week of fishing on the Snake River, playing in the park and making frequent visits to the A&W Root beer that was just down the street from their house. I didn't know it at the time, but that is about all there is to actually do in Burley! For some reason that is still a mystery to me, my mom allowed me to pack my own suitcase. I then hopped on a bus to begin my time alone with my grandparents.I was thrilled to have an entire week with Shirley and Frank! Other than the stupid ceramic cat that had eyes that lit up when you plugged it in (and left permanent scars on my psyche), the trip was going awesome! However, after about my 2nd day of fun, my grandma decided that I was overdue for a bath. That was not an issue with me at all. What was an issue was the fact that, while I had remembered to pack a lot of important things like Star Wars action figures, my Slinky and some always important Silly Putty; I failed to pack any additional underwear. Grandma was not impressed. So...it was inevitable, she needed to wash my Superman Underoos. If that wasn't bad enough, she also insisted that we go buy me some more underwear (I guess she must have expected me to change them again in my remaining time there...grandmas are silly that way). Apparently she was so excited to get me some new underwear that she couldn't wait for my dirty pair to finish washing and drying. Nope...good ole Grandma Jolley made me free-ball it to the local KMART!
I was never so embarassed in my life! In all honesty I still wake up on occasion in cold sweats as I recall that dreaded experience. Every detail has been etched on my mind. If I close my eyes I can almost hear the KMART manager..."Welcome KMART shoppers!! We have a blue light special on isle 4, and...SWEET MOSES!! There is a free-baller in the boys underwear department!!" Shortly after that he called for a wet clean up on isles 3, 8 and 10 from all of the kids that had peed their pants laughing at me. Clearly I am well over that episode...or at least I was until I got to Morocco.You would think that 20 years later (yes that is correct...I am now 25 years old...it's my blog) I would have learned a thing or two about packing my clothes. I am happy to report that I have. This time around I was fairly certain that I had packed enough underwear. In fact, I went overboard. I packed roughly 14 quality pairs of made in the USA underwear...mind you they do not have pictures of Flash Gordon or the Incredible Hulk, but still...you would think that 14 pairs would be enough. Unfortunately, it turns out that I really needed an entire year's worth. Logically you would say, "Why so many Mike? Wouldn't it be smarter to just bring 14 and wash them when they got dirty?" And I would totally agree. Sadly, I have learned that what I think is not always so easy here in Morocco.
Let me start by saying that there are not any do-it-yourself laundromats here in Morocco. If anyone is interested in putting up some capital, I'm sure we could make a killing. There are places that will do your laundry for you. In fact right here where I live I could easily pay the hotel to clean all 14 of my unmentionables (can I use that word after mentioning them so often already?). The hotel charges by the number of items they wash. So, the damage to wash all 14 pairs of underwear you ask? Well...a meager $70!! Let me repeat...$70 to wash 14 undergarments. Mind you I also have a few other articles of clothing that I need to wash on occasion too (I did mention that I am a far better packer than when I was 5). If I were to wash all
of my clothes that I wear weekly here at the hotel, I would be rolling out well over $250 each week! I quickly made arrangements to sell my kidney. Now...clearly there are other options. There are a handful of places downtown that will wash your clothes for you. There are only two problems with that option. First, it is still expensive (not "I need to sell my kidney expensive", but still not worth what they charge). The second problem is that the workers don't speak English. For those of you that have forgotten how proficient I am in French and Arabic, please reference my earlier post.With a strong desire to hold onto my kidneys, I came up with option 3...purchase a washer and do it myself! This novel idea hit me as soon as I saw that options 1 and 2 were not realistic. As such, I immediately hit up the embassy to see if they would include a washer for my apartment. I was initially told "No way, that is a frivolous use of money. We need more large LCD televisions in the gym." After I told them that I was not going to be of much use as a pilot when I had no kidneys (I'm no doctor, but I think you need at least one), they caved in. Mind you it took them over 6 weeks to actually come to that decision. In total fairness to the embassy, the decision was made much faster than what I have led on. But it took the 3 weeks to find the place to buy it from...cost compare from 3 different places, analyze which soap would be the most efficient and have the lest impact on the Earth's atmosphere. When they were finally ready, they had waited too long and had to wait for the next fiscal year's money. I saw where this was going, so I asked if I could simply buy it and be reimbursed. After a long deliberation as they discussed my dilemma over reruns of I Love Lucy on their 60" LCD, they reluctantly gave in.
I'd love nothing more than to tell you that is where the story ends. Mike buys a washer and everyone lives happily ever after. You should know that was not the case! First...my blogs are never that short. Second...my life here in Morocco is never that easy. When I told the embassy that I wanted a new washer, they told me to send them the models of the kind that I wanted. Well...there were two models that both washed and dryed the clothes in the same system. That's right...all in the same system!! I sent both models to the embassy. After spending 1.4 million dollars and deliberating for an additional 4 weeks, they gave me their blessing on one of the two washers. I then went to Electro Planet to make my purchase...where they only had one of the two models left. Fortunately it was the model the embassy had approved. The real good news was that the only one available was the floor model (that might be sarcasm). By the way...the man about died laughing when I asked for a discount based on it being the floor model (always trying to save my tax dollars as well). I asked if it came with a warranty, and was quickly told that it would work as good as any of their washers (this comment is known as foreshadowing).
Needless to say, I was finally able to make my purchase. Mind you it took 2 days of trying several different credit cards in their system to do it, but my card finally took (I guess credit cards come with a monthly "statement" that you are supposed to "pay"...who knew?). Anyway...they scheduled delivery for the next day. At long last I was going to have clean clothes at a reasonable price! I was so anxious for the delivery guys to get there and begin the process of setting up the washer. My apartment is not for long-term use (it's more of a time-share that we
have agreed to use for two years), and so it is not set up for a washer. Luckily the manager agreed to hook it up in either the kitchen or the bathroom. If it had been the bathroom, I would have lost the bidet...so that was clearly not an option! I soon learned that also not on my list of options was actually fitting the washer through the kitchen doorway. I didn't discover this fact until the guys came to deliver it and came up about a 1/2 inch short. They tried everything they could think of to get the washer through the door. I finally thanked them and told them I would figure it out. The apartment handyman was coming in just about 45 minutes to work the plumbing in the kitchen, so I didn't have much time. Luckily I have more determination than delivery men. I was determined to get that washer through that door...and I'm happy to report that I did!! What I am unhappy to report is that in doing so, I rubbed the heck out of the sides of the washer, let huge marks on the kitchen door's molding, and broke off the knob that turns the machine on and off and that changes the type of washing cycle. But I did indeed get the washing machine in!!So there I was waiting for the guy to come and fix the plumbing, wondering what the heck I had done. In reality it was mostly cosmetic. I figured I could clean the washer and fix the knob. I only needed this machine to work for 12 months...11 really at that point. When Mr. Fixit showed up, I showed him the washer. Keep in mind that he spoke all of about 4 words in English (if I have not mentioned before, my French and Arabic is not so great...I can say man and woman though). I gave him the pointy-talkie in an attempt to get him to not only fix the plumbing, but to see if he could also fix the broken knob. Well...short version. He ended up drilling a hole in the knob and digging out what was left of the front of the washer where the knob once was. In other words, I found out Mr. Fixit was not a "fix anything type of guy". He left that poor washer in pretty sad shape (considering it was brand new, it looked like it had been used for targeting practice at our bombing range). What Mr. Fixit was able to do was install the plumbing and hook up the washer. Using a screwdriver in place of a knob (where you had to dig the screwdriver in to change the settings), we finally turned it on.
Remember the comment about foreshadowing...it now becomes a player. That "floor model that would work just as good as any other of their washers" leaked like nobody's business (side note: I learned that the drain in the kitchen floor does not work). My kitchen was flooding, and all I had to show for the day was a beat up, but nonetheless, brand new washer that didn't work. It was time to take it back to the store!You can only imagine that going to a store to return a washing machine that leaked was beyond my level of communication in a foreign language. So...I called one of the guys from work, and he agreed to meet me at the store. The washer was still in my kitchen, and I had not told him about how beat up the washer was...I would cross that bridge later. Instead, I just told him that the washer leaked. We met up at Electro Planet and he let the guy that sold me the machine know that there had been a problem. Obviously he was really anxious to help (that is sarcasm again). He told us that we were in luck!! The washer was under a warranty and all we had to do was ship the washer to Casablanca and they would fix the leak. At this point I had visions of either dying from selling off my other kidney in order to pay for the hotel to continue washing my clothes, or being sent to a Moroccan prison where I would never see the light of day because I killed an employee at Electro Planet (but on the bright note, probably had free laundry services). I think the employee was able to sense my urge to remove his upper limbs, because he quickly handed us off to his manager. The manager was slightly more helpful. Ultimately, they agreed to come and pick up the washer in the morning, take me back to the store to look it over, and then take me another washer (sadly it wouldn't have the dryer capabilities of this one...but it did have steam). It was at this point that I told my friend that there might be a slight problem with the washer in my kitchen. For one, it was still stuck in my kitchen. For two, it was rubbed all over the sides. Finally, it had no usable knob...and that knob had a huge drill hole in it. I was sure there would be no issues in taking it back. He told me to do the best I could to clean it up.
We're in the home stretch here... When I got home, I first had to get that stupid machine back through that doorway. A little sweat and tears and one more broken knob later (it held the tubes in the back)...I had the washer out of the kitchen. I went and bought the Moroccan version of the Magic Eraser and was able to clean up all of the scuffs. Other than the fact that the knobs were missing and that it required a screwdriver to turn it on...it looked brand new! I went to bed and did some serious praying. I figured I had two options...complete denial or complete honesty. I chose to go with the latter of the two options (I figured lying would negate any of the prayers I had offered). When the crew came to pick me and the machine up, they might have noticed that it was not in the same condition that they had left it in...DUH! They were not optimistic about my chances of returning it (this driver spoke English). Well...we got to the Electro Planet and it was do or die time for me. I explained what had happened (of which I am sure he understood at least 6% of everything I said). I agreed to pay for a new switch if they would still make the change. The guy in charge was not able to make that type of decision on his own. I think it was going to take the approval of the President of Electro Planet. In the meantime, EVERY employee there felt the need to come weigh in with their two cents worth. I had flashbacks of my time in Burley, Idaho. I was 94% certain that they were saying, "Welcome Electro Planet shoppers!! We have a special in the microwave department and...SWEET MOHAMMAD, there is an idiot in the washer department trying to return a broken washer with a hole drilled in the knob that is detached from the washer...and he might be free-balling" (I wasn't).
Dear friends...prayers are answered! The district manager ultimately had compassion on me. She changed out the washer for the steam version and didn't even make me pay to fix the other washer. When they delivered the washer the next day, they still couldn't fit it through the doorway. This time I patiently waited, and Mr. Fixit came the next day, removed the molding, and easily set up the washer. The washer is now hooked up and I have clean clothes! I am happy to have this event behind me. I still have a kidney for future barter...and I have that awesome bidet too!!
