Most people who come here from India miss the availability of services which made life so convenient. One of these was the laundryman or dhobi who came home. Another was the roadside cobbler found at every corner.
But now that I have lived in the UAE for many years, I miss none of these as they are available almost at my doorstep. The laundryman comes home to collect the clothes and delivers them after a couple of days at the latest.
Back home, everyone has a washing machine and the laundryman has graduated from a bicycle to a scooter. He has fixed days and only takes clothes for ironing. Since I am on holiday, my wardrobe is rather limited. So, when I say I need my clothes the next day, I am told it is not possible. The days of delivery are fixed. That’s when I think longingly of the laundry close to my home here where I can drop off clothes any time and ask for expedited delivery.
As for the washing machine, the day I decide my jeans need to be washed as well as the black shirt, I am told it is the day for whites or light colours. So, I learn to adjust my dressing to light and dark washing days. Somehow this arrangement doesn’t work out well. Sometimes I am told there aren’t enough clothes collected to warrant a rinsing cycle. That means wearing those jeans for yet another day while the pile-up continues.
Often I forget the days the laundryman visits. So, when I come down with a heap of clothes for ironing, I am informed that he has just been and that I was out gallivanting with friends at the time. I am made to feel guilty for not staying at home and waiting for his arrival instead of meeting friends and generally having a good time which is what a holiday is all about. Then I am told if I am in such a hurry there is a laundry within walking distance. When I go there, I discover that it comprises an antique iron fed with coal and operated by a family who live in an outhouse in the compound of a bigger residence. I am a little wary about entrusting my clothes to these new guardians as I am not sure if they will be returned in the pristine condition they were handed over. But I have little choice and find myself having to walk back to collect the clothes after some hours. Now if only I were here, all I would need to do is ring up the laundry and ask them to update me on the delivery status!
Another convenience I have got used to taking for granted here is the easy availability of transport. All I do is walk out of my building and I have a choice of cabs. And the air conditioned bus stop is a short walk away, always presuming I have the time for this mode of transport. The bus stop back home comprises a stone bench under a narrow awning with passengers who seem to have resigned themselves to a long wait. This facility is exposed to the elements so the noise of traffic passing by can be deafening. When the bus does arrive, I am reminded of the cool comfort of the buses back in the UAE where seats are almost always available and one can be sure there will be no pushing or shoving to get in or out.
I am aware that if I go on in this vein I will be persona non grata in my own country but I have this to say — despite the heat, dust, dirt and noise, India still shines for me.
