The Washing Cycle

The heat was stifling, sticky and persistant in its clamour to make discomfort out of everything. No amount of layers removed could alleviate this. And it was still the time when I had not ventured to use the air conditioning, hoping I could hold out as long as possible, see if I could manage things the old fashioned way. Plus I thought if I use it, a new standard would be set, one of easy luxury where even if it was just a little bit warm, I would whack on the air conditioning and still leave the window open, a kind of "fuck you" to the earth, "look at me, I'm still cool even with the window open. Do your worst!" Such a negligent attitude towards conservationism is still far off for me. However, feel free to judge, things are done a bit differently here with regard to waste disposal. Recycling is still done here and making sure to separate the rubbish, I feel like I'm doing my part, however due to the mass of waste produced here there is more rubbish to put out than is actually accomodated for in the rubbish areas. So inevitably rubbish is frequently put on the floor around the bins, or sometimes on the corner of a road. It feels refreshingly naughty, putting your rubbish out like that, like smoking indoors, things accepted here as the norm, but at home is viewed on a naughty scale just below murder but still higher than beating up old people. However I would like to maintain, to assuage the concsiences of fellow ex-pats, that gently placing your filthy rubbish on the road is infinitely better than throwing it aside. Substitute cavalier nonchalence with meticulous concern and your mind can conquer any doubts of wrong-doing that may assail it, and you can continue counting the pizza boxes piled on high in the street with a safe smile and a clean conscience. One may say that it doesn't matter how you do it, the result is still the same, and I would reply "leave me alone, I want to be on my own. I dont want to fight you." Then after a bit of a lie down I would highlight that the waste disposal business here is very good. With the more waste created and left out, it stands to reason the better the refuse collection service is. Very regular and expansive, seeking out all the side-streets and alleyways in the city, dirty men shoving dirtier bags into the shitty back-sides of rubbish trucks.

The heat is stifling, sticky and persistant in the way it never makes you feel completely clean. My aggressor would claim that it's just my karma catching up with me for littering the planet. At this point I would feel slightly nervous that the person clearly can't see that I just cannot be bothered to argue after my lie down following the person's first exclamation of displeasure. "Its too hot to fight, lets just be friends" I would suggest. Then I would have another shower. I'm having a lot of them lately, another point for my aggressor to find contention with. However to my credit they are cold showers, so with a triumphant grin I can boast conservationism on my side, and hopefully if the twat that just wont leave me alone is still around, I'd spray the fool with cold water. Maybe that would dampen their antagonism. As is expected with regular self-cleansing, my clothes thus must follow suit, and since I've been here in the intense Korean summer, my washing machine has seen as much action as Don Giovanni on one of those sleazy sex holidays. My shirts rarely see it past a day, so I have to regularly rotate my clothing system. Maybe this is something that's not so interesting, I'll admit, but it does lead me on to an odd curiosity here. The washing machines, the air conditioners, the school water dispenser, hell, pretty much any electronic device has a peculiar habit of beeping the shit out of you. Now there is a certain amount of beeps a human can withstand on a daily basis, and here in Korea the threshold is pretty fucking high. No electronic device turns on or off without declaring to you and your immediate surroundings that "hey you have turned me on! Now I am working!" or "you have just turned me off! You no longer require my services, but just to let you know this I'll beep like a crazy man!" Its mental! And its not just a single monotone beep, no dear friends, what foolish assumptions though hast made if you believe such folly. The on/off beeps are usually a five note minimum medley that attempts to span as much of the musical scale as possibly, and in the certain case of my washing machine its......yeah, its got to be at least thirty seconds long, a song I'll claim, I've heard shorter songs, so yes, this is song length material that is blasting out of my Hauzen (Korean brand) washing machine. It's enough for me to give it up and just wear dirty clothes.

The heat will be stifling, sticky and persistant in a way that'll be new to me. I've never drank as much water as I have now, and it certainly doesn't feel like it's helping. I'll go to bed now and sweat loads, soak my sheets, wash them, listen to more washing machine beeps, go to work and drink more water, cold and treated. I'll sweat more whilst increasing the air conditioning to soften the swell of relentless heat that will only make me consume more fluids and solids, and all I'll do is create more waste, washing more and throwing out the rubbish. The cycle will continue, as it always does, regardless of the accumulation of waste, this is a side product that will be dealt with in time, and when it does the end will come with necessary conclusion. We will want those beeps then, but they will have no consequence. We will be too long gone to care.