Plumbing, and History

How do I turn on the tap? Let me count the ways...
1. Pull the little lever towards me
2. Pull the little lever upwards
3. Press the little lever downwards.
4. Press a button, either obvious or concealed
5. Turn a handle
6. Hold my hands under the spout and hope something happens
... and I'm sure there are more I've missed. In Australia we more often just have simple handles which have to be turned, so I've been having a fun (and often confusing) time trying to work out just how to get the result I want, ie. a stream of water.

And then we come to toilet flushing. Sometimes there's a lever on the side of the cistern. Well, although I've never seen those before (we mostly have buttons set into the top of the cistern), they were easy enough to figure out. However, then we come to toilets in public places, which have myriads of flushing devices. Some have a lever at the back of the seat, which is easy because we have those at home. Some have a button in the wall, which we also have at home. One I was in had a foot pedal, which I've never come across anywhere else. Many, most disconcertingly, flush automatically, which I am not used to. They're fine if they wait until you've actually finished and stood up, but today I was in one which was a bit over eager, and flushed when I just moved sideways slightly. So now, whenever I go into a toilet which is new to me, I carefully suss out the flushing arrangements before I do anything else.

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I have a tendency to play the "tough guy", so although I will wear lots of layers and gloves when it's cold, I really don't like to wear a hat. However, the other day when we were at Harper's Ferry, it was much colder than either of us had expected, probably under 10°C. Luckily, I had taken a jacket which had a pair of gloves in the pocket, and S had included a hat for me, but I was reluctant to wear it, thinking that I would manage to be warm enough with just the jacket and gloves. However, she persuaded me, and I had to admit that it increased my comfort level.

We drove back from Harper's Ferry mostly in the dark, leaving there at around 5 pm so that we were faced with the commuters travelling home from work in or near DC. I was once again amazed at the sheer numbers of Americans on the road. For at least 40 miles there was a constant 3-lane-wide stream of headlights passing us.

Speaking of cars, something which has struck me quite forcibly since I've been here is the dearth of small cars (and older ones). Almost every vehicle I see is big, chunky, muscular, powerful looking, and fairly new and shiny. Where are all the young women and older women, who typically drive smaller cars in Australia? Where are the poor students, who can only afford to drive a 20 year old, rusty, beat-up 4 cylinder hatchback or small sedan? Where are the young guys, who like to drive large but old-and-being-souped-up sedans? Maybe none of these groups exist here in the US. Maybe everybody just wants and can afford to drive a large, powerful, status symbol car that says Look out, I'm coming and nobody is going to stand in my way.

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Today I visited Old Town Alexandria, in Virginia. (The states I've visited or passed through so far: Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York, Massachusetts, New Jersey, California, and I think Delaware briefly. That's pretty impressive for someone who comes from a country where it takes two days to drive through her home state). Anyway, I took the Metro to Alexandria, and wandered through the historic section, sort of following a walking tour guide and noting places of interest. Forgetting that it was November 11th, and not realising that there would be memorial services being held, I blundered into the Museum of Black History to find myself intruding on a service which seemed to be attended only by African Americans. Feeling very conspicuous, I quietly browsed through the brochures on display, discreetly used the bathroom, and snuck out again.

The Torpedo Factory Art Gallery was an interesting place and yes, it used to be a torpedo factory. Visitors can watch artists working in small individual studios in which they also display and sell their work. I was very impressed with one display of photos.

In a t-shirt shop I saw on display t-shirts with a photo of GWB and proclaiming his inauguration in 2005. They didn't waste any time putting those out.

Today I encountered yet another tap option: pull the knob upwards, after turning it left or right to adjust the water temperature. Weird. And in my previous post on this subject, I didn't even mention the many ways that shower taps work. On the subject of showers, it seems to be relatively uncommon here for the shower to be in a separate recess from the bath, but instead it's usually over the bath, meaning you have to climb in and out over the bath side, which can be dangerously slippery. In Australian hotels and motels you'd be likely to have only a shower and no bathtub, while in private homes, especially newer ones, bath and shower are separate from each other (but in the same room). And the main toilet in the house has its own room separate from the main bathroom, although ensuite bathrooms include a toilet.

Making Someone's Day at Harper's Ferry

We drove to Harper's Ferry yesterday. It was a perfect day to be there: there was hardly anyone else visiting, so we had peace, quiet and privacy, all precious commodities. It was a bit too cold for my taste when we first arrived, but after our picnic lunch we went for a walk alongside the river to warm up, then climbed the short but steep hill up to Jefferson's Rock, where we sat quietly in the sun for quite a while. In spite of the noise from the traffic on the busy highway just over the Shenandoah River, it was very peaceful up there.

The historic part of the town was of course very picturesque, and when the sun came out, its light on the few trees which still had gold coloured leaves was beautiful. The only shop we went into was a bookshop, where I think I made the young girl clerk's day by being from Australia. However, when she realised I wasn't a local she said to S, "Oh, is she not from here?" (Even though I'd been speaking in English about the coins I was trying to sort out to pay for my purchase).

Museums, and Metro Madness

On Monday I visited the National Air and Space Museum. I spent most of my time in the air section, because I just enjoy looking at old aeroplanes. I was particularly interested in the exhibit about Orville and Wilbur Wright. At school, we were really only told the bare facts, that they were the first people to fly a self propelled aircraft, at Kitty Hawk, for a few seconds. It was really interesting to read about their family life and how they had been encouraged to have enquiring minds right from childhood. There was also information about their different personalities, and a lot of detail (of course) about all the work that was behind that first momentous flight.

I also loved Amelia Earheart's red aeroplane. I would have loved to learn to fly, but finances and poor eyesight prevented it.

Wednesday I went to the Musuem of the American Indian. I had thought that just meant the North American Indian, but actually it included those of South American as well. There was a lot of stuff I was already aware of, about the decimation of whole populations by introduced diseases and about the exploitation and marginalisation of various tribes, but also a lot of information about the resiliency of many of the people and the preservation of their cultures. In some ways, they weren't treated quite as badly as the Australian Aborigines - mostly they weren't forced to work as slaves for the whites - but they certainly weren't treated well either.

On my way home yesterday I got embroiled in the aftermath of a 2 train collision in the subway. The train I was on, and all others on that line, had to be stopped at Dupont Circle and the passengers taken by shuttle bus a few stations up the line to reconnect with trains on the other side of the accident. However, one bus does not equal one 6-car train, so the numbers of people waiting for shuttle buses was huge. I was lucky in being on one of the earlier trains, and only had to wait about half an hour for a bus. However, the bus took more than half an hour to cover the distance the train would have travelled in about ten minutes, so it took me an hour and a half longer than usual to get home.

The crowds of people queuing for buses were amazingly good natured, and there was a lot of joking amongst the African Americans which kept most of us amused. I felt a bit nervous when I first realised my train was not going to take me all the way home, but I soon realised that nobody else knew what was going on either, so I adopted a policy of following the crowd which worked well.

Halloween

The evening was balmy, dark and mysterious, with the sounds of voices coming from various directions as we crackled through the mounds of dead leaves at the side of the road. Ahead we saw lights and the strange shapes of children in Halloween costumes: little devils, witches, fairies, a miniature footballer and an even smaller crocodile, a very tall Frankenstein. All carried large bags for collecting the treats which they knew would be handed out at any house they visited.

Through the darkness the lights from the houses gleamed through the trees, and at most front doors the light of a candle glowed dimly through a carved pumpkin face. A few homes were brightly lit with strings of orange lights, or had rows of lit up pumpkins along the sides of the driveway or up the steps to the front verandah, but a few had outdone themselves to create the Halloween atmosphere.

From one house, eerie sounds emanated, and although there weren't many lights on, we could see a dim light from the front room. Along with many other people, we crowded up the steps and into the house, but it took a while to be able to work our way to the main attraction. The room was filled with some kind of smoke and kids and adults jostled for position, but eventually we filtered through to the back corner where a grey haired figure with a white painted face and blood red lips was slowly raising itself to a sitting position in a coffin. This elderly man, whose own kids are now adults, has been recreating this scene since at least 1988.

A few houses further along the street, coloured lights outlined the arch over the gate and some other objects in the garden, beckoning us to investigate further. We found a body in a shallow grave just inside, and above us, on the verandah, a ghost illuminated with ultraviolet light. Along the verandah, a man-sized hairy monster with huge clawed hands sat in a chair, moving its head up and down, opening and closing its claws and giving out treats to any child brave enough to come close. We weren't sure if it was a real person, or a remote controlled robotic figure as the lady of the house claimed. Many of the plants in the garden were draped with enormous cobwebs, and carved pumpkins and other suitable accoutrements were dotted about.

At another house, many pumpkins decorated the verandah, while above the steps was a row of blinking lights in the shape of large eyeballs. Around the corner in the next street, we found what we thought at first was a party because of the loud music playing and the number of people moving around. However, large signs proclaimed it to be the "Garrett Traylir Park", and another sign directed us to the "Manigmint Offerse". In keeping with the "trailer trash" theme, guitar pickin' music was playing, accompanied by a real guitarist sitting on the steps, barrels of hooch were off to the side, and piles of laundry were piled up in front of the older man slouched in a chair. Meanwhile several people danced to the music.

Most other houses weren't so extravagant in their decorations, but nearly all displayed at least one carved and lit pumpkin, and without doubt, all had plenty of chocolate bars to give out as treats to everyone who came knocking.