Every trip I take seems to bring me another lesson or two about what to do and what not to do during foreign travel. Failure to pay attention to these lessons would result in negative experiences, which of course, we all try to avoid.
For example, I learned to pack an extra pair of shoes after being caught in a rain storm in Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam. Actually, it was a couple of days after the rain storm… when my blisters developed blisters, that the lesson sunk in. My shoes were still wet and my skin raw.
I learned to carry real money too… enough to buy me out of a jam. I won’t get into that one here…
So, yesterday I learned a small but simple lesson. “Never give your laundry to the first person who knocks at your room after calling for laundry pick up.”
The back story comes from years of over packing. I’m one of those who’ll pack a fresh set of clothing for every day I’m away… and then add an extra one just in case! Invariably, I lug all this around China, sometimes traveling and changing hotels every day. I’m getting old and lugging this shit around is getting old too.
This trip, I decided to pack 1/2 of what I needed. This is kinda like taking a walk down the beach… you’d better only walk half way, because you have to walk back! I figured, I just have my clothes laundered mid trip and I’d be set!
I actually did this years ago and abandoned the practice after every bit of laundry came back pink. Everything… pink. My white and blue shirt came back pink and blue… my tighty whities became tighty pinkies. This happened in the north, at a Chinese hotel… years ago. I was sure things would be different at a Sheraton in southern China.
At 7 am, with one day left at the Sheraton, I put 3 shirts and 2 pairs of slacks in the hotel laundry bag. I filled out the little form detailing what was included… indicating no starch, and specifying that I wanted them folded upon return. The practice was to have laundry picked up by 9 am and it would be delivered back by 7 pm. I then pickup up the phone, hit the “Guest Services” button. A Chinese voice said something I didn’t understand. I said “laundry pickup” twice and then hung up the phone.
A couple of minutes later, there’s knock at my door. I opened to see a Chinese guy who said something I didn’t understand. I shoved the laundry bag in his hand and closed the door.
Five minutes later, there’s another knock at my door, I opened to find a young Chinese girl dressed in a smart hotel uniform. She said “Laundry?”
(Oh oh…)
“I just gave the man who was here a few minutes ago my laundry” I responded.
She replied “No laundry man”
I said: “Yes, he was just here and took my laundry” I glanced up and down the hall but saw no one else.
The girl repeated “No laundry man.”
A disaster fantasy started playing in my mind. How did I know the guy wasn’t from the laundry? Surely he would drop it off there, wouldn’t he? Then I thought… I have no clue what the guy looked like! I couldn’t pick him out of a Chinese lineup if my life depended on it! Maybe he wasn’t even a hotel worker! Maybe he was a roving laundry thief who had someone on the inside tipping him off!
I turned to the girl “Go find the guy who took my laundry… my laundry has to be here, right?”
She had no clue what I was saying… she turned and left.
I didn’t think much more about it throughout the day. I just figured the mystery guy was a bellhop and surely he’d take it to the laundry. I got back to the hotel about 6 and hit the “Guest Services” button as soon as I got into my room and didn’t see any clean, folded shirts.
I said “This is Jeff in room 2318, do you have my laundry?” The voice on the other end said something in Chinese. I repeated it again…. more Chinese… I hung up.
A couple of minutes later, there’s a knock at my door. I opened to find another young lady who said “Laundry?”
“I sent laundry this morning… and I called to see where it is.” I said.
She didn’t know any other word, just “laundry.” After a few minutes, she left.
Now I was getting concerned. I decided to go to the lobby and ask the concierge or anyone who spoke English to help me find my laundry.
The lobby was busy… maybe 100 people milling about, waiting in line, talking in small groups. For a second I thought I saw a guy wearing my blue checkered Polo shirt! I approach him and it was definitely the same pattern! Just before calling him out, I saw the logo wasn’t a polo, but a little flower! Wow… that was a close one! Sure looked like my shirt!
I waited in line for the concierge. When it was my turn, I learned he didn’t speak English. I looked at every sign, every elevator button for some hint as to where the actual laundry place was. I even took the elevator to the basement but only found a parking garage. Where the hell is the laundry??
I went back to my room… still no laundry…
At 7:05, Being convinced that I was a victim of the Chinese Laundry Mafia, I began preparing a backup plan on how I could stretch one dirty shirt, one clean shirt, and one pair of jeans into the remaining 7 days. Maybe I should go shopping? Or maybe I could hand wash them nightly in the shower and dry them with the hair dryer? (All kinds of crazy things go through your mind during a crisis) Thank God, I didn’t give them my skivies too! The thought of wearing Chinese boxers was too much to fathom.
I was at the depths of my despair when…. there was a knock at my door. I ran to the door and opened it as if to meet a long-lost acquaintance. AND YESSSS!!!!! There was my laundry!!! I danced with joy and tried to give the Chinese girl the high-five! She just looked at me like I was nuts… (apparently they don’t do the high-five in China)
So… I learned something new on this trip and experienced still another happy ending in China!
Untamed Traveler 