One of my favorite things about Peasant Life are all the contradictions that accompany it. Like the reaction I got from my Old World Peasant Relatives when I made the mistake of showing up in shorts for a visit. The looks (and comments I got from aunties kind enough to pull me aside) were enough to make your toes curl up in disdain. Apparently visits from young-to-middle-aged women in their childbearing years should be done properly, with said women all wrapped up in skirts and heels and other citified accoutrements.
Like hair dye. Preferably, in our Balkan corner of the world, a deep, dark red (left over from Communism, I guess). And here's where I made my second and even more serious mistake: in addition to not dyeing my increasingly gray hair, I'd forgotten to wear makeup. (I know! You wouldn't thought I was back home, in one of the college towns where I always seem to be living. Ack.) And it was a major mistake at that -- a personal affront to the Gods that be -- in this case, the Grand Peasant Lineage that Makes Up My Family (hereafter known as The Peasants That Be).
So I'm working on making it up to them. Painting and anti-graying and picturing the looks on their Anti-Peasant faces when I make my next Balkan appearance, all spiffed up and gentrified. Well, maybe. It's kind of hard to look glamorous when you've got baby food stuck in your hair. Although I hear avocados are wonderfully detoxifying....