This is what I'm wearing in the village:
These slippers are small and ridiculous, but they're a gift so I wear them.
They're size 36 ( 7? 6?) I'm normally a European size 38. They're a gift from my mum's aunt, or something to that effect. I can't walk around the house without slippers and these are  house slippers (and frankly my family and immediate relatives are the only people I would dare
see me in these)

Let's move on to the most comfortable shorts/skirt/skort/ you'll ever see. It's like wearing a tent...
but it's so comfortable. It's called a Şalvar (at least in this village) the term can change from region to region
village to village. It has the width of a skirt, but it has pant legs, and its sewed on the bottom...I can't describe
it...here's a stylistic photo (above)

It basically allows you to sit in so many unflattering un-womanly positions, with legs splayed apart if need
be, without the fear of flashing anyone. Most of the elderly folk here like to sit on the floor, either legs
crossed, or one leg hiked up, the other bent under. The Şalvar allows you to sit in these positions with ease,
you basically feel like you're wearing nothing from the waist down. It's not tight or constricting. But I stress
this is very much a village thing....and not every village might I add. In fact I've noticed a lot of the younger
people aren't even wearing it. They're just wearing light Lycra or cotton pants or light tracksuit pants. I on the other hand must be getting old as I wore my Şalvar within an hour of arriving at the village.

I pair this oh so stylish outfit with my Yeah Yeah Yeahs shirt, or my Threadless Star Wars shirt...and switch them around like crop rotation.Today I decided to wash them, by hand...I suck at this. All I achieved was making them wet and smell partially like ''Omo''. The pits, which really were the only bits that required washing...still kind of smell like sweat.  We do have a washing machine...but there wasn't enough for a full load. And my grandma and mum are nothing if not frugal. I couldn't be bothered until they scrounged around to find something to wash so I thought I'd give it a whirl.
Well we can add 'washing my hand' as another item to the list of things I can't do well.

 

This is the view from my room looking out at Grandma's front gates.

 My grandma preparing the fire to roast some vegetables for dinner last night.