Morning Bath

This is how I recorded my first stay in an African home: "There was no bathroom and there was no toilet there -- nor was there any outside. When I needed the 'bathroom' in the night, I walked past sleeping people and stepped barefoot off the front steps onto frost, which crunched under my feet.  The moon was bright in the sky. Before the sun rose in the morning, a young girl carried a bowl of shallow, steaming water to my room (pictured), heated on a wood­fired stove. She curtseyed. She returned with a bar of soap. She curtseyed. She returned again with a towel -- and she curtseyed. Not once did she pause before she entered the room. I wondered whether she would return again. I needed to wash, and there was no door. I was not accustomed to this."