There are many things one can forget when travelling.
Passport, credit cards, house keys (when travelling to 2nd homes) etc. And solutions are in those cases not always possible to come up with in short time.

A friend of mine just posted this picture on facebook (below) – and that made me think of all the strange episodes I have had, trying to fix something on the way (duck taping shoes, cutting chewing gum out of my hair as I had no opportunity to shower for days, supergluing my snowboardbindings, forcing my European hairdryer to fit the electrical outlet in South America, every day for 3 months!.. and the stories are many)

But nevertheless, the best episode was in Nepal, when I had worn my clothes for more than 2 weeks and my sherpa took my clothes to the laundry shop. (aka the icey river behind the rocky hut)
I was happy to have my clothes cleaned and went into the living of the sherpa house where we stayed that night.
Outdoors the temperature was well below 0 and indoors the oven in the middle of the room filled with dried yak shit made the family gather around. (The families actually sleep on benches in the room where they have the oven. A house usually has 2 rooms; a kitchen and a living/sleeping room. (it would be wrong to name it a bed room, as they have no beds..) The kitchen has an open fire and the living has an oven.

I sat down to have dinner and not long after I had ordered my noodle soup, I noticed it dripped on my head from above. As the construction quality was poor I thought I’d ignore the leak and didn’t bother to say anything.

I was served my soup from the sherpa grandmother, she was doing the kitchen service that evening.. A minute later the sherpa housewife on the opposite side of the oven was bothered by the leak too. She touched her head, put on a grumpy face and stood up. She said something to me in Nepali and left the room.
All the men were giggling; grandpa sherpa, uncle sherpa, cousin sherpa, brother sherpa, sherpa baby and some of the neighbouring sherpas. They laughed and blushed and looked at me..

I then looked up, and to my surprise all my clothing was placed on beams and on a temporarily constructed drying rack above our heads.. My socks, my bra, my panties, my tights, my everything.. to the amusement of all the male sherpas.

I was so embarrased when I realised the sherpa housewife was not pleased by having this European girl there, who showed off all her underwear!

To my excuse; little did I know that my sherpa had also taken my “hidden” laundry bag as he went to the “laundry shop” earlier that day. I would obviously never had wanted him to clean my underwear!
Anyways, lesson learned; my clothes smelled like burned yak shit for the rest of my stay and I did not bother to wash it at all – as I now knew that Sherpa people only do laundry when the weather allows you to dry it outdoors. Indoor? tabu.

Creative travel adapter

Vagablond – out&about