“It looks like something country peasants would do,” city governors have sneered. “We are a developed, modern metropolis. Our people’s laundry should be dried by machines, not by the breeze. And it should certainly NOT be seen.”
But with such a law, legislators are erasing rainbows from the streets! Really, few things give so much joy as the vision of a red dress, blue jeans, and yellow underwear fluttering tranquilly outside of a third story window of cobblestone alley.
And Lisbon, Portual is full of such glory. Walk along it’s streets through these photos and gaze! What do you see in those hanging clothes? Do you see the explosion of color and graceful movement? Do you see the injection of poignant humanity into the otherwise stony cityscape? Do you feel a thrill as you peek inside the lives and intimate drawers of the city’s inhabitants? How can such a lovely gesture be banned?
Now of course, this issue of drying clothes has likely already reminded you of the phrase, “Don’t air your dirty laundry.” And with this saying we move from the question of literal laundry to figurative laundry. Deep dark secrets. Personal stuff. The truth.
This kind of emotional laundry is particularly relevant in the halls of these foreign hostels. Here, you meet stranger after stranger and need to decide: “How much will I reveal about myself? How much do I want to see of this new person’s darkness or light?”
Lately I’ve found myself hiding my figurative laundry upon meeting folks… hesitant, for a flurry of reasons, to talk about all the crazy things I’ve seen in eight months traveling around the world, even as I proclaim them across these blog pages. Like a lot of people, I get shy and worried that people won’t care or may not try to understand.
But maybe we all need to take a lesson from the families of Lisbon whose trousers and shirts and bras we strode by today: There is a bravery inherent in displaying your laundry, and there’s also a necessity in it! You can’t hide your socks or your experiences inside forever, or they’ll get moldy and you’ll become both smelly and bitter.
So let’s raise that fluttering laundry high and have the courage to air it and share it with the world! Off to a communal hostel dinner to try to put this in practice. You try it, too!