Feet
Did you know that there are people who are scared of feet. I remember a classmate in high school being weary of feet and I just thought it was something she said, like someone may say "I don't like olives." But then, I found out that my sister was scared of feet as well. She doesn't like to be near other people's feet, or for anyone to touch her feet. She tried to get a pedicure once and couldn't make it through.
Living in Madagascar I noticed how quickly my feet turned a grayish brown color. I would joke, after a while I that I wasn't sure what color my feet really were anymore. It wasn't that they weren't clean, because I would wash them with the rest of me, but they were stained by the dirt and dust of the road. No one had painted toes or particularly manicured feet and that's just how it was. Feet were for walking and that's all that mattered.
When I moved to RVA I expected to see cute toes, especially since there are many high school girls on campus, but I had never before taught at an outdoor school. Like an outdoor mall we all walk under the sunshine as we head to the next classroom or building. With sandals and flip flops the dust easily touches the skin of our feet and we are left with bits of white on the tops of our feet. It fascinating to regularly look down and see how dry my feet are.
Coming from the indoor buildings of Wheaton where my feet were either covered or clean it's interesting that I have quickly adapted the Malagasy perspective - feet are for walking. As I walk between classes, to watch a game on one of the fields, to dorm cover, or to enjoy the outdoors, I am thankful that my feet are for walking. If they were just to look we all be scared of them. So, I'm thankful that they are for so much more.
Living in Madagascar I noticed how quickly my feet turned a grayish brown color. I would joke, after a while I that I wasn't sure what color my feet really were anymore. It wasn't that they weren't clean, because I would wash them with the rest of me, but they were stained by the dirt and dust of the road. No one had painted toes or particularly manicured feet and that's just how it was. Feet were for walking and that's all that mattered.
When I moved to RVA I expected to see cute toes, especially since there are many high school girls on campus, but I had never before taught at an outdoor school. Like an outdoor mall we all walk under the sunshine as we head to the next classroom or building. With sandals and flip flops the dust easily touches the skin of our feet and we are left with bits of white on the tops of our feet. It fascinating to regularly look down and see how dry my feet are.
Coming from the indoor buildings of Wheaton where my feet were either covered or clean it's interesting that I have quickly adapted the Malagasy perspective - feet are for walking. As I walk between classes, to watch a game on one of the fields, to dorm cover, or to enjoy the outdoors, I am thankful that my feet are for walking. If they were just to look we all be scared of them. So, I'm thankful that they are for so much more.
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