The pink dust/sand of Sedona had not only turned our white rental SUV a lovely shade of pink but also our clothes and faces.
On arrival at Gouldings Lodge and Trading Post in Monument Valley, and when we had turned the flannels another shade of pink, Malcolm decided to investigate the coin operated laundry and put our washing through its paces.
He opened the door to discover row after rw of huge washing machines and further rows of huge dryers and a plethora of Navajo women [not sure of the collective noun here], and not a man in sight.
Undaunted he set about finding out how to use the machines, ably helped by the women and then settled down to entertain them in his inimitable way whilst waiting for the machines to do their dirty work.
The Navajo were amused to discover a man doing the washing and were happy to chat. It proved to be a regular community meeting of the women on a Sunday [when it was most busy] and they explained that they brought all the family washing to the coin cops on that day as the children would be at school the next day. Malcolm was amazed at the size of the bags they used to carry the family laundry and that they were able to haul them in from their pick-ups and then out again afterwards.
Malc described the Navajo women 'lovely' and very friendly; he was fascinated listening to them talking in their own language which brought to mind a film he had watched a few years ago about the Navajo code breakers during WWII. What an amazing job they did and so long before their contribution to the war effort, which was kept a secret, was revealed and acknowledged through the award of a congressional medal of honour.
