I turn her on and hit her on the side twice. It’s the only way she works, my washing machine. She came with the apartment and remained a mystery for the first month. Can she spin or is she broken? After a few trials and many errors, I discovered her secret – she just needs a love tap to start her off, like most of us women I guess.
I moved into my new Tel Aviv apartment just over a month ago. Though it’s new for me, the apartment resides in a building from the 1920s, one of the few preserved and untouchable palaces in Tel Aviv. We’re still in our honeymoon stage as we’ve only spent a short time together. Getting to know a new Tel Aviv space is like a mysterious journey which will surprise you with every turn. It’s exactly like a new relationship. With one visit, she can make you feel at home, but once you commit to her, all of her deep dark secrets come out.
Like when a certain truck drives by every hour on the hour, and the left window sill facing the street shakes loudly in all her glory, making sure I know she’s still there after all these years. Or like when it rains and the balcony becomes a small pool of rainwater – because, instead of building the porch on a decline, they decided capturing rainwater was more important – or at least that proper measurements and precision were not.
Before I moved in the landlord spent NIS 5000 putting down parquet floors, a true Israeli luxury, and the reason I was forced to pay NIS 100 more per month. With each small step or twirl, I can literally feel the earth move under my feet, as certain floorboards dip, and potentially trip, me up.
Moving into a new apartment, or a very old one, is exactly like a new relationship. You discover new things about her everyday. You learn to deal with her flaws, and learn to focus on her positives. You compromise on solutions. And you find comfort in knowing she will always be there – thanks to her hourly shake as a reminder of that.