[WO]MAN AGAINST MACHINE

One of the challenges of daily life in a new environment is adapting to new appliances.  This is especially true if it involves a second language.  As many of you know, I spent the first ten days without a functioning refrigerator.  It was replaced with a new one, and is humming along fine (knock on wood!).  However, the kitchen has been the source of continuing grief…so I thought I would document this saga.

Let's start with the dishwasher.  Upon my arrival, Jeanne spent considerable time showing me how to select cycles, clean various filters and fill reservoirs with both detergent and rinse agents.  Duly noted…nothing particularly different here although a bit more labor intensive.  However, no matter how I load the dishes, I find lots of dishes and glassware that have somehow escaped the spray.  I"ve given up, and I am quite happy using the sink and dish rack for the few pots, pans, glasses and dishes that I produce each day.

Somewhat more problematic is the stove.  The four gas burners remain a mystery in spite of simple directions that clearly mark the dial for pilot light and then low to full flame.  I invariably need to try all four burners before I can get a pilot light on one of them to actually light the burner and remain aflame once I let go of the dial.  As long as I can get ONE burner…I guess I'm happy.

Moving on to the oven…I present Exhibit A.  Look at this dial and tell me what language it is speaking?  Add to this the temperature gauge in Celsius, and I'm sure you can see why I prefer a microwave!

Well, maybe the microwave isn't totally without its own anomalies.  As you can see the there is precious little explanation of how to operate this device.  It took me awhile to figure out how to set the timer and get this baby operational, so it isn't intuitive.  I still don't know what the first knob does if you turn it to the LEFT.  (Maybe it sets a clock?)  Turn it to the right and you can set the time for heating.  It starts automatically.

OK, let's continue our tour in the utility room.  Witness the dial for all the various types of cycles  on the washer.  I need to keep an English/French dictionary here in order to look up all of these options.  (Actually, I just wash everything on Cycle 2.)

Same for the dryer!

The dryer has a tray underneath that apparently collects water.  Recently, I tried to use the dryer and a red light informed me that I needed to clear the filter.  I had cleaned the LINT filter, but apparently there is one more step.  That green tray was full of water (extracted from the wet laundry?) and needed to be emptied.  Who knew?

There was some real drama yesterday when I was using a flat iron on my hair in the bathroom.  Normally, European hotel bathrooms don't allow you to plug in hair dryers, flat irons, etc. (only electric razors for some reason).  I've always found this annoying and an insult to my intelligence…until yesterday when the flat iron got knocked into the toilet.  There it was….plugged into a wall outlet with a whopping 220 volts of electricity flowing through it…and swimming in the toilet.  Fortunately, I had just been reminded of the danger of this situation having read about singer Claude Francois meeting an untimely demise by being electrocuted in his bathroom while trying to fix a loose light bulb!!!

I went to the electrical box to turn off the current and this is what I found.

None of the individual switches were labeled, so I flipped what I judged to the the master switch.  But then there was the question of what the hell that top box was all about.  I decided that, even though no light or appliance in the apartment was getting power with the "master switch" flipped, I was still not willing to bet my life on having cut the power to that particular socket.  So I got dressed and went in search of Cedric (the gardien of the building).  He was out, but a workman was hanging around and he agreed to come sort it out for me.  He flipped EVERY switch in the box and then went to the bathroom and removed the flat iron plug from the wall outlet…with a withering gaze and a few choice (and well-deserved) words about being so careless.

After this "near death" experience, I wonder if I just can't learn to live with summertime frizz?

Among all of these mechanical challenges, though, there has been one bright spot.  The apparatus below seems to have the requisite instructions clearly marked.  So far, no problem with the toaster!!!