Dust to Dust

First published February 21, 2009

View from our 12th story apartment

When we first moved into our flat, our landlady suggested that we hire her housekeeper one or two days a week to help me clean. I laughed and looked at the size of our new place and told her I'd think about it. I actually had no intentions of doing such a thing. If I can't keep a house this size, then I should turn in my "Domestic Engineer" card. 

We've been in the flat now for 1 month and I've managed through some maintenance mishaps...broken washing machine, cracked kitchen faucet, water-damaged flooring. Each time we've been able to correct the problem with a lot of creative charades and local assistance.

Day to day cleaning has become an all new adventure. I am in a constant state of dusting. This is different because I've always been agreeable to a small layer of particles on my household goods. I considered it a "protective coating" against future damage. However, here in Cairo that approach only lasts for half a day at most. 

Just yesterday, I dusted in anticipation of guests coming to the house. I attacked the sand and grit with a complete arsenal of cleaners. I beat rugs. I flung brooms and dustpans. I sprayed Pledge until it smelled like an entire lemon orchard. I had reached "Cleaning Nirvana"--for exactly 12 minutes.

I opened the curtains to our balcony and viewed the city. A low cloud hung over the skyscrapers. That was not good. It meant the sands were coming--the very sand that I had just evicted from my pristine, polished home.

I sighed and realized that I will have to alter my cleaning routine. Rather than a bi-monthly scouring for a truly deep down clean, I would now have to consider a twice-daily effort. Thankfully I have two cleaning elves to help me--otherwise known as our daughters, Emileigh and Aria. They are thrilled with their new role. I've built it into their homeschool curriculum. I call it, "The Dust Bowl Reenactment of the 1930s." It's slotted within their history lessons. They're given extra-credit opportunities also.

This morning I reached for my laptop and saw a thin layer of "Cairo" on the lid. Fabulous. My white socks confirmed that indeed the dust had infiltrated in the night and I could be assured of another day of job security. What a relief.