A Dryer in Italy

I know that I have been viewing Italian life through gelato-colored glasses. Besides whining about the difficulties with our visas, I’ve been sharing almost exclusively positive, rosy stories about our sabbatical year thus far. Maybe because I have felt sick all day, or maybe because there is construction on both sides of our apartment (how can I revel in laying in bed when there are jackhammers on one side and drills on the other?!), or maybe because the sky has maintained the color of gray soup for three days, but today, I give a glimpse into the world of Italy not spoken of in guidebooks. Please cue ominous music. Life here is not perfect. There, I said it.

Here is an example of why not. As a disclaimer, my Italian friends think that this whole thing is very funny at best and “really American” at worst. I do not disagree. As you may or may not know from my other posts, I have something of an odd obsession with doing laundry here. Specifically, that the entire city (or at least some of its unlucky inhabitants) seems to spend all day, every day, doing laundry. Why does it take so long, you ask? Because the wash cycles take about two hours or more. And because people don’t use dryers. Nope, everyone prefers to hang everything from socks to washcloths, lovingly, piece by piece, out on lines and all sorts of contraptions on balconies.

Not this American girl. After a month of searching them out, I found that the elusive dryer DOES exist in Torino. I saw the first one at the beginning of October. I hugged it a little in the store (really, Josh took a picture). It was too expensive. I then became intent on the purchase and delivery of said large appliance. I am an advanced online shopper, so I took to the internet, found a beautiful, well-priced dryer, and pushed the purchase button. Oh, except that they didn’t accept credit cards issued outside of Italy (thanks Media World). My work around, use paypal. Nope, that little loophole didn’t work either. So, I begrudgingly went into yet another store (gasp, I could hear my parents say). In store, the only models available were well out of my price range.

But, a lovely clerk in the store took me aside and told me that there was a website that would allow me to order, and pay on delivery. What a strange thing! I felt like I was getting the password to a speakeasy. But, I went to eprice.it (feels like Costco online) and in fact, there was the option to pay IN CASH on delivery.

Longish story shortish, a week later (and much agitation about delivery time) I meet two Romanian delivery guys who brought the dryer upstairs and to whom I handed €450 in cash. I immediately dumped a load of wet socks in and watched them spin around. I was very satisfied. Of course, I had to be careful because in our 1930s building, we cannot use more than one appliance at a time without tripping the breaker.

You are not supposed to feel sorry for us. I know that this is a silly little story. But, I wanted to share to that living abroad is not always easy or comfortable or fun. That is part of its charm, I suppose. I also am self-aware enough to know that the reason that people line dry their clothes is, in part, because it reflects the pace of life here. That is something that I will try to take home with me when I am back in frenetic Los Angeles. But, I will always machine-dry my socks.