My eyes widened more than I thought possible when I first entered the volunteer house in which I'd be living in Ghana. Mostly, my shock came from seeing the feet of the volunteers, most of which looked as if they'd been coated in coal. Being accustomed to wearing shoes or socks the majority of the time in the United States filled me with reluctance at the idea of going shoe-less 90% of the time. I find it a bit comical looking back as now I miss the barefoot lifestyle.
The layer of dirt (and who knows what else) that caked my feet once I stopped wearing shoes was really just the start of my newfound grimy self. The lack of running water meant never washing our hands in the way we do here (we turned to hand sanitizer or just went without) and bucket showers.
I quickly adapted to these living conditions and realized that it led me to reconsider what "dirty" actually means. I noticed on the days when I actually wore deodorant that it smelled substantially better than when I wore it at home. In Ghana, I started to become immune to the smell of body odor.
There were even rules regarding our hygiene. There was a sign on the door with the rules of the volunteer house and one stated that we must wash at least our feet and lower legs before getting into bed so as to not soil the sheets too badly.
I truly miss the lifestyle of no shoes and bucket showers (but not so much the pit toilet). I also feel that the lack of running water taught me to be conservative with the resource. At the start, I used a full bucket of water to wash and by the end, half of a bucket was plenty. There were a decent amount of us and we shared a small amount of water so conservation was key.
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| "Toilets" |
The layer of dirt (and who knows what else) that caked my feet once I stopped wearing shoes was really just the start of my newfound grimy self. The lack of running water meant never washing our hands in the way we do here (we turned to hand sanitizer or just went without) and bucket showers.
I quickly adapted to these living conditions and realized that it led me to reconsider what "dirty" actually means. I noticed on the days when I actually wore deodorant that it smelled substantially better than when I wore it at home. In Ghana, I started to become immune to the smell of body odor.
 |
| Showers |
There were even rules regarding our hygiene. There was a sign on the door with the rules of the volunteer house and one stated that we must wash at least our feet and lower legs before getting into bed so as to not soil the sheets too badly.
I truly miss the lifestyle of no shoes and bucket showers (but not so much the pit toilet). I also feel that the lack of running water taught me to be conservative with the resource. At the start, I used a full bucket of water to wash and by the end, half of a bucket was plenty. There were a decent amount of us and we shared a small amount of water so conservation was key.
