February 5, 2012
My new bathroom has an old fashion cast iron radiator. It reminds me the Russian Heater that my host mother put in my room two winters ago in Azerbaijan. They both are antique but I love them.
Winter in Azerbaijan was a miserable time for me, 
especially the first winter. I was always cold. One day, my host mother went into the chicken shed and found this “alien” thing that I never saw in my whole life. My host sister showed me how to use it. This little devise generated not just heat, but fire sometimes. I am sure, according to the US standard, this indoor heating device is on the forbidden household item list. But I loved it. I used it not only to keep myself warm, but also to keep my tea hot and last but not least, to dry my laundry. The heat was so intense that few times, I burned my underwear!
One day, this precious little devise broke and I was heartbroken. My host sister came to the rescue. She reconnected some wires and at once created some sparkling fire. I was afraid it would burn down the house. My host sister just smiled and told me it was safe to use again. That heater kept me warm the whole winter. When I left Azerbaijan, I was tempted to bring it back to American and maybe show it to the expert in “Antique Road Show”. (hahaaa!)
Today, looking at the radiator in my bathroom, I could not help but remembering those days. In stead of having bitter feeling as some my RPCV friends having, I feel sweet. Even today, I have a drier and washer; I keep the habit of hand washing most of my clothes, hang them up and let them dry naturally. Since I move in to this new apartment, I find my self appreciating this radiator. Unconsciously, I hang my clothing on top of the heater to dry. Each time I collect my clothing, I bury my noise among the garment to smell its freshness, then smile…..
Remember I once read: “The simple life is not a substitute, only a corrective”.
Naturally, not everyone understands but I do.
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