We are lucky enough to live in a village with a bread bakery, and we are even luckier that our host parents own it. So we get to eat as much fresh bread straight from the oven as often as we like. I’ve made friends with the bakery workers. They work on two different shifts: While one group works for two days, the other group is off. I try to visit my friends at least once a week for tea and talking. We’ve baked together a bit, and now I’m trying to convince them to teach me how to make bread. My idea of them teaching is letting me do it, and their idea is letting me watch. I guess I’m content with just watching and photographing for now.

I definitely think I have turned into a bread snob; I won’t eat any bread if it’s more than a day old. (And here I thought being in Peace Corps would prevent snobbery, not create it.)