Well... Sort of...
I've told you all that our apartment is dodgy. I've told you all that the electric is dangerous. Well, I told my landlord too, but, eh, this is Turkey...
Monday morning, I woke up, feeling quite good, actually, and stumbled i
nto the bathroom for a shower. We very rarely take showers these days because the significantly-less-than-hot water comes out in a thin stream, capable only of warming a breast or a buttock, while the rest of the body has no succor from the biting, below-zero cold of our bathroom. See, you have to understand Turkish showers... Instead of putting a hot water heater in a house, which would be far too convenient and therefore, unnecessary, they have only cold water in many houses. So they stick a little plastic box inside the shower which quickly heats the sub-arctic water flowing through your pipes. I mean, imagine that... They put a plastic box that chugs 7000 watts a second inside your shower!
nto the bathroom for a shower. We very rarely take showers these days because the significantly-less-than-hot water comes out in a thin stream, capable only of warming a breast or a buttock, while the rest of the body has no succor from the biting, below-zero cold of our bathroom. See, you have to understand Turkish showers... Instead of putting a hot water heater in a house, which would be far too convenient and therefore, unnecessary, they have only cold water in many houses. So they stick a little plastic box inside the shower which quickly heats the sub-arctic water flowing through your pipes. I mean, imagine that... They put a plastic box that chugs 7000 watts a second inside your shower! Anyhow, on this particular morning, the water was even colder than usual, but since I hadn't showered in about 4 days, I felt obliged to my students to step in anyhow. Well, after about three minutes under the icy fountain, Emily began screaming and running around the house. Startled, I dashed out of the shower, naked, (semi-relieved to find any excuse to turn off that sadly insufficient stream) and threw open the bathroom door... Yep, the house was on fire...
Our shower, which is potentially the least safe electronic device in the world, and our electric system, which has potentially the least safe wiring in the world, joined forces on Monday, and the result was a smoldering pile of plastic and leather. Straight underneath our main electric line (which was just a hole in the wall with several dubious looking wires stuffed inside) was a plastic shoe rack. And a telephone. The wires apparently burst into flames, and the coating on the wires dripped down onto the rack, which promptly caught on fire.
Seeing this, I ran into the bedroom, grabbed a blanket, and instead of doing the smart thing, which would have been to beat the fire out with it, I whipped it around my wet, naked body, shuffled outside, and began screaming "Help!" Mary Ann quickly joined in. Emily, on the other hand, kept the cat (we were catsitting) safe, while collecting water from the kitchen and dousing the fire.
Soon, a nice man from downstairs showed up with a blanket with which he wasn't covering his genitals, and quickly beat the fire out... Of course, I still had to go to work. But, I soon noticed that my shoes had... melted... So, while Mary Ann was calling people, and Emily was (of course) taking the cat to a safe place, I was wrapping plastic bags around my feet. I then stuffed my feet into my slippers and trudged down the street with Mary Ann holding my arm, our faces smeared with soot, laughing and hobbling (because the plastic bags kept tripping me, and I kept falling down) past throngs of gawking Turks. Of course, the first thing my boss said was, "Why you teaching in plastic bags, mate? You lost it?"
It took us a full day of arguing, 2 Turkish friends, 3 electricians, and a full pot of tea, but we finally got our landlord to agree to pay for the damages. Well, not our shoes, or our telephone... But he's putting in a new shower that is less likely to kill us, and new wires, which are more likely to form a safe, meaningful relationship with our shower. In the end, I still wince everytime I press an "on" button, and I won't shower if I'm alone in the house, but other than that, it's just like home :)
