The Importance of Clothespins
Admittedly,
the transition and culture shock of studying abroad is a phenomenon no one can fully
convey with words. Far greater than a simple
change in language, just less than discovering a new planet. Immediately, I became struck by just how
different everything functions abroad.
Everything from adjusting to a twenty-four hour clock to the more subtle
nuances in how people walk becomes strikingly apparent. At times I find myself trying to decipher the
purpose of something bizarre - intently starring at it. My gaze destined to find something new and
interesting or perhaps familiar with an unfamiliar façade. It has taken me
quite some time to write about this story partially because I am still in
somewhat disbelief at my own absentmindedness, partially because it has become
more entertaining with time.
Ironically, in the fog of
unfamiliarity, the one thing that has given me some of the most trouble so far
is completely universal. That’s right,
they look the same in Spain as they do in the United States ever since David
Smith decided to put two wooden prongs together, interlocked with a spring in
1853. In my own defense, I have always used
a washer and a dryer for my apparel
sanitation needs. Comically, common
sense becomes common after commonly using it. . . After accidentally setting my
washer to a four hour cycle (not entirely sure why that is a necessary
function) at 23:30, I resided to the fact I would need to set my alarm for the
middle of the night to hang my clothes.
The alarm raided my ears at 3:30 and I awoke fatigued, not fully cognizant
of my actions. Meandering to the washing
machine, my thoughts already drifted back to the comfort of my bed. One by one I hung up each article of clothing
without a single reflection on just what would keep them on the line which hung
outside my third story apartment above an abandoned lot.
The following morning I awoke to
what I can only describe as the most delicate drizzle, thankfully, that I have
ever experienced. I shuffled over to the
clothes line finding it barren, the now no longer vacant lot occupied by
several articles of my clothing.
Disbelief. My mistake had become painfully clear to me but for a moment eyes
remained fixated on the lot and my gym clothes below.
