The other day when we came back from washing the dishes at the spring, our host dad took the blackened cooking pots away from him and sent his daughter Precious to scrub them shiny.
It turns out I have also been washing my feet wrong. After eating shima and beans, my host mom and I were chilling out on the reed mat and she scolded me about my cracked, dirty heels. She told me I need to scrub my feet with the stone in our bathing shelter. It worked! My feet look better than they did in
No comments:
Post a Comment