(Written February, 2007)
I stood in the bathing room of the Lui Cathedral Guest House looking down at my feet. I was wearing some old red rubber shower shoes that had fallen apart in the Sudanese heat and were now held together with green camouflage duct tape. I washed my feet twice each day with soap and water but nothing worked. For a time I fantasized about arriving in London and going immediately to have a pedicure but now I was certain I would never show anyone my feet again. As I stared down at them I wondered if they would ever again approach their normal color. I longed to put the basin of water on the floor of the bathing house and stand in it but, by then, I knew that people would come in the late evening to look for bath water I had left so I tried not to dirty the water too much. (more…)