This essay paints a picture about my day-to-day in Peace Corps Training thus far...
“Shampoo, shampoo…” my grandmotherly-like Thai host mom, Mae (Mother) Ruam, repeatedly says to me one evening. Is she referring to my unkempt bike-helmet hair? Do I smell so bad she has to accuse? Another minute of miscommunication – lost in translation – goes on, and her meaning is at last understood.
