How things are done

One reason to travel is to discover how things are done all over again. My husband, Peter, and I are in Mexico, and I was thinking this as we stood, confounded, in front of the washing machine.

It would not start. There was a dizzying array of buttons and commands. I was pleasantly surprised to realize that I actually understood what almost all the buttons meant. Unfortunately, my Spanish skills were of no use whatsoever in making the machine start.

“We need to put soap in it,” Peter advised.

“I don’t think we want to put soap in it until we know we can get water in,” I replied.

We continued to poke buttons and stare at the machine, completely flummoxed.

The good news was that Alma, a cheerful housekeeper, would be by in three days. We would only have to wear dirty clothes over the weekend, and then Alma would come to save us. Peter and I stared at the machine for a few more minutes, pushed a few more buttons, then declared defeat. I decided I could air out a shirt for tomorrow. I don’t know what Peter decided to wear.

Of course, something like this happens to us at least three times a day when traveling.

Two days ago, we found a wonderful bakery. There were shelves of pastries and rolls and a few assorted baked goods displayed on the counter. I started telling the woman who worked there which of the rolls and pastries I would like and she began putting them in a bag.

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