Dirty Water

Entering the field of nutrition makes me think about getting into dirty water. When I was a child I lived in Lesotho, Africa. I remember having to share the tub water with my brothers, one at a time. What I remember most clearly was the dirty water. We ran around in bare feet on dirt roads, in the gardens, climbing trees.  We did have shoes, I am sure. I just don’t remember wearing them.  I wore beautiful homemade cotton dresses; I remember these fondly, but not the shoes. You were the lucky one if you got to be the first in the clean tub water and the least lucky if.