You know, it has always fascinated me how interested a person becomes in the most unusual of things when fate conspires to put them in a position where they have little choice but to be interested. Take for example my brothers, yes not just one, but both! When by the grace of God they were being blessed with children. In the run up to the births of my beautiful nieces both had become what can only be described as authorities on the suitability of ‘push chairs’ I say that with a degree of caution because I am sure that they would be eager to correct me and insinuate a more comprehensive term such as ‘newly born transportation vehicle’.
As silly as it may sound I am dead serious, I remember my older brother the geekiest of the trio spending endless hours on the internet researching about the correct cloth material, posture, elevation, padding, what type of plastic was used? Where was it manufactured? Who had conceived the design? When had he conceived the design!? Why had he conceived such a design!!? Perhaps I am going a little over board, but then I have always been the least fussy of us brothers and find myself harking back to the good old day when you could just sling the little rascal round your back and see his or her cute little face bobbing out of the top J In fact in many parts of Africa and South East Asia it continues to be the way forward. Surely you have seen the adverts and documentaries when they show the mother working the tea field with the little baby wrapped around her back in nothing more than a single cotton sheet, awww… I hear you sigh. Coming to think of it, the wrap your baby around you trend is experiencing somewhat of a renaissance from what I gather, having recently witnessed a number of well to do middle aged men being dragged around Dubai Mall or MOE (Mall of Emirates) by their ruthless wives. And while they head off to give his credit card a thorough work out, the poor sod is left to rue the day he said ‘yes’. At least until he sits down on a bench or at a coffee shop looks down to see the angelic face of his baby child peering up at him, and all of a sudden he knows exactly why he said yes. Personally I think we got one over our African counterparts with the self facing baby carrier, it looks more liberating than the baby on the back, out of sight. Though I bet you would struggle trying to pick tea with that particular contraption!
So what the bloody hell is blabbering on about today I here you thinking. Well I just spent that last 20 minutes sat in front of my washing machine, trying to figure out whether or not it was working. It was making all the right noises and the clothes seems to be going round and round and I could see water through the glass so surely that was it…? But why was the timer not ticking down??? Something was wrong and I had to get to the bottom of it and right away. I couldn’t risk another day or wearing white pot sock, the type that come up to your ankles under my immaculate 2 piece suit, though I guess if anyone asked I could pass it off as my eccentric British fashion sense, I mean if Chris Eubank can drive around Mayfair in his truck and not any old truck an actual full blown thing with 12 big wheels and a kane and a bowler hat, then what’s to stop me expressing myself…?
You can see why I had to get the washing machine working and fast.
So as any real man does I tossed aside the manual with complete disregard for its content. Well, I would have done if I had a manual but Hayan the crazy Syrian from next door didn’t have one when I brought the washing machine from him and the fridge and the cooker all for a bargain 1500 AED about 300 squid. ‘Don’t cross me man, because if someone crosses me man I don’t stop I even do murder man, believe me’ Those were his heart warming words when me being me had told him that I would buy the stuff from him as he was moving out and I needed it. Only small detail was that I didn’t have that little thing called ‘money’ with which to pay him. Anyway, yet again I had landed myself nice and deeply in it and it was just my luck that I had moved next door to Saddam. So behold the ‘Uncley’ yet again to the rescue I can’t really show enough admiration and thanks to this man. Anyway, after the stuff was brought and delivered to my apartment and Hayan who was harmless really, officially lifted his self imposed death sentence from me, all was well. Now I just had to figure out how to use these things. The fridge was pretty straight forward what us men like to refer to as plug and play, the washing machine I left up to the local handy man Redy, who true to his name was as ever Ready J. A score and a pat on the back saw to him. Now the only outstanding element was the cooker and even the all action Redy was humbled before it, conceding if somewhat shamefully that he was not up to it. This, my dear audience was a task for DEWA man! I will let you know how that chapter unfolds when it does unfold.
The other thing about this place which is a little conniving is that fact that our work week is from Sunday to Thursday so although I have already been working for 2 days tomorrow is only Tuesday! Looks like it will take some time for me to get over that little mind trap. Aha, the washing machine has finished after a 1h50m wash at 70° followed by a mild 30 minute spin dry by twisting the knob to the ҉ symbol it was now the moment of truth. Right the glass is warm which means that the it worked and the first signs are good, here we go, hmm my boxer shorts, perfect I’ll just bury my face in them… only joking let’s find something a little more appropriate. Ah, the loyal kitchen towel, sniff, sniff. Ahhhhhhh I am victorious, I have just completed my first ever wash at the ripe old age of 27 and there was me thinking I would never see it through.
Thought of the day people, never give up till victory is you.
Not unsupervised :-)
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