By Maricella Miranda We rented a flat in Eimsbüttel, a district of Hamburg. It's a very cute one bedroom with a balcony full of plants and herbs. Of course, the bathroom only fits a small child -- but the water is hot -- which is what's most important. And it's clean! Except for a squirmy brown bug that we found in our cheese in the refrigerator -- cheese that was wrapped in plastic wrap -- except for that. Oh, and the hairs we keep finding in our dishes, except for those two mishaps, it's clean. The flat (as we affectionately call our apartment) has a washing machine too. The machine is a fancy front-loader. With all its buttons, it looks like it could be a dryer too. Charlie and I were certain that it has a dryer because of its long, complicated, German descriptions. All those buttons couldn't be for washing clothes, could it? In the states, we have three settings for everything. Small, medium, large. Cold, warm, hot. Slow, medium, fast. In America, English words on a washer are small and concise. And we have knobs, not buttons. As you can see from the pictures, our German washer is a little overwhelming. But I was sure I could work it. Unbeknownst to some of you -- I'm pretty good at housework. Growing up, my sister and I spent many summer vacations dusting, vacuuming and washing dishes while our parents were working. I also can recite '80s movies because of those summer vacations. I still remember The Breakfast Club word for word. Back to the washing machine, I loaded the device with clothes, a small amount to American standards. A pair of jeans, a few cotton shirts, socks, underwear. I moved the setting to 40 degrees. When we moved in, our German neighbor upstairs briefly instructed us on how to work the machine. Then I hit the "Start" button. Easy, I thought. But nothing. I fumbled with the buttons on the left, having no idea what they meant. I hit the Start button on the left this time. Nothing. I change the setting to Feinwäsche. Nothing. Then, the drum circled to the left. My clothes whipped inside it for a moment, then stopped. The pipes growled. Uh-oh. I hit more buttons and watched the drum circle my dry clothes again. "Charlie, this thing's not working!" He walked into the kitchen and knelt beside the washer. He hit more buttons and pushed start again, nothing. We then ran to the rescue of Google. We searched and searched for definitions of all the buttons, an owner's manual in English, anything that would explain our problem. Did you know there’s a YouTube video on how to wash clothes in Germany? People record anything these days, I swear. I watched the video. It helped reassure me that I was doing everything right, but it still didn’t explain how to make my washer work. I searched more reasons for our mishap. Is the water connected, one blogger asked another. Our water had to be connected, I thought. After all, we were using the sink, the toilet, the shower, everything else that needed water. The water couldn’t be our problem. “You should go get the woman upstairs,” I told Charlie. I call our neighbor “the woman upstairs” or “our neighbor” because I still don't know how to say her name with the German pronunciation it calls for. The woman’s name is Mira, or something to that effect. She’s really befriended us. Our first day at our flat, she picked us up from our hotel at the airport and drove us to our apartment. On Monday, she took us around Hamburg’s city center and port. She’s an English teacher, so she speaks perfect English. We’re very indebted to her friendship. A few minutes after Charlie went upstairs, Mira walked down to our flat. “Is the water connected,” she asks. “I’m not sure,” I said. She reaches under the sink, turns some piping, pushes the start button again and voilà! We had water. "Should we turn it off when we're finished," Charlie asked Mira. No! Never again, I tell him later. The water has stayed on since.
4 Comments
Michele Avis
8/29/2012 09:59:31 pm
I loved this! Made me laugh....sounds something like European Vacation with Chevy Chase (80's movie). This blog is priceless. I remember the summers cleaning with my sister and Im not quite sure we dusted but 80's movies were defiantley on the daily schedule. My question to you though is what the hell are all the buttons for and have you used them yet.....correctly? As far as the bug in the fridge I'd do an American cleaning of it before you put more food or cheese in it. : )
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Maricella Miranda
8/29/2012 10:03:13 pm
Sis, the buttons are mostly for the different washes, like delicate and sports, and the degrees of water. You can make the water up to 90 degrees! It takes 2 hours to wash if you use the 60 degree setting. Germans want their laundry extra clean! You can also control how fast the drum spins your clothes. At the highest speed, it sounds like a small airplane propeller in your kitchen.
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Hey, it is really easy. The woman upstairs is Myrja. The first syllable sounds like the Russian Space station "MIR". The second one is even easier. Well - it's "ja".Think of all the bad movies where some C-class actors have to play the Germans shouting "Jawohl!". So - that's it: MIR-ja. Easy-peasy.
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Maricella
9/13/2012 05:40:02 am
Thanks Adrian. lol It's getting easier to say her name, I promise :) I always worry I'm butchering it though.
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AuthorMaricella Miranda is traveling in Europe for the coming months. This blog gives a glimpse into the ups and downs of her trip. Archives
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