The washerwomen

Image from 1911

On Tuesdays I do the laundry. I know, you will ask yourself "what does that have to do with my existence?" I know. It doesn't matter if it's Tuesday, or that I decide to do it on Saturdays, like Sheldon. The point here is, as they say, I don't really do it myself, the washing machine does it. Unless it is delicate fabrics, then I do it by hand. Don't ask me how, one finds a way. And it is precisely at that moment, between adding fabric softener and making sure it is the right temperature for the type of fabric, that I remembered that I had a gossip waiting for you. And that is the story of the day: the washerwomen and the washing pools in the history of Iceland.

As a context

The hot springs in Iceland have been crucial for life. This may be a no-brainer, but let's start here. The use of them as washing places, it is speculated, was a result of the urbanization of the capital, but we do not have (by "we have", I mean A. and I) an exact date. Let's continue in a specific place: Laugardalur, which means "the valley of hot springs", in Reykjavík.

The invisible labor

Washing clothes, like many other domestic activities, was considered a female job. The women had to walk several kilometers to the washing place in Laugardalur. It was in the open air, without any kind of comfort. Imagine, to be washing by hand, in the freezing conditions of winter, an activity in which you could spend long hours. And if that wasn't enough, the ladies had to go home, carrying the bundle of wet clothes on their backs.

Around 1833, a man "very concerned" about the deplorable conditions under which women carried out their work, had a great idea. No, he didn't offer to do it. He built them a shed. Reading this reminded me of that scene with Gordolfo Gelatino who can't bear to see his mother work at home [this makes sense if you are Mexican, sorry for a lack of reference that you can get]. By the way, the supposed solution was destroyed in one of those terrible Icelandic storms in 1857.

Thirty years later, in 1887, the Thorvaldsensfélagið association, made up of a group of very privileged and well-intentioned women, built a “splendid washing house” (thus described by Wikipedia). The women's association conditioned the Reykjavík authorities: they would finance the project if the authorities guaranteed that no woman had to carry the bundle of clothing on her back.

The solution

The authorities, as stipulated, built a road that allowed the passage of carriages and horses, which is known today as Laugavegur or "the road to the washing pool." The situation did not end there, when using the hot springs, which reached very high temperatures, accidents and tragedies arose. Specifically, entering the 20th century. After the death of a pregnant woman, who would fall into the boiling pool, the authorities rubbed their chins and came up with a brilliant solution. They installed arches of rods to avoid future falls.

In 1909, the use of washing pools had a decline as a result of the implementation of drinking water supply in the region. Then people could wash their dirty laundry at home, as they popularly say. And, as I anticipated in the text on the Reykjavík Shield [not available in English 🤡], after the First World War, Iceland suffered from a fuel shortage, so they used the pools again. Its use lasted until 1930, with the arrival of the district heating system, which… we will not talk about today, but we can say that by tubing the thermal waters, the real decline in the use of swimming pools began.

Ásmundur Sveinsson portrays the importance of the washerwomen with a statue named simply Þvottakona or “Washerwoman” in 1958, which is found in Laugardalur. In 2005, some commemorative plaques, as well as historical information, were placed at the sites, to remember the importance of the women of the Thorvaldsensfélagið association and their contribution to improving the lives of their contemporaries..

And this is how we come to the end of this story

It's Wednesday, A. fights with the zombie vacuum cleaner, to continue the endless work that housework represents. While I observe the washing machine in the distance. There, about five steps from the room in which I write.

In a next instalment, how an accident caused the start of geothermal energy in Iceland.

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