Hygiene

     Every day at the beginning of lunch I wash my hands before preparing a meal. Recently, I laughed with the realization that for me, this action has become something closer to a vague gesture towards hand-washing: I use soap, and rub my hands together under the cold water, but truth be told I’m satisfied after the loose dirt has fallen from the tips of my thumb and first finger. The soap serves to sanitize whatever is left behind.

     Pretty obviously, farm life demands certain adjustments to my accustomed hygiene regiment. As probably everyone who has ever lived or traveled in close proximity to me has realized, I keep clean pretty devotedly. In the absence of a shower, I minimally find a way to wash my hair under a sink every day. Even taking a shower at night rather than in the morning always seems a hardship, as my thin hair easily becomes oily overnight. My go-to study break is simply to wash my hands.

     The problems with these habits on a farm is the sheer amount of dirt and sweating inherent in the work. Clean hands are nice, but if I’m going to head back out to plunge them into the ground in an hour, I have little motivation to get all the dirt off. Furthermore, there are types of dirt on types of skin that really just aren’t going to come off (have you ever pruned tomatoes? The green stuff really just doesn’t come off).

     One week in, my meek confession to the other apprentices that I have showered every day was met with a laugh. “That will change soon.” The average amount of showers per week among apprentices was something like 2.5. Granted, the weather was much cooler then, but I was still pretty surprised.

At first I tried intentionally to take fewer showers. If no one else minds that I’m grungy, why not save the water? Avid cleanliness is surely only a sign of urban vanity. However, when unshowered I would feel myself become withdrawn and short-tempered, invariably requiring that I sacrifice my lunch break to clean up instead of waiting until after work.

     A couple months later, I’m still finding a new balance. My hands, feet, and knees have patches of more permanent dirt, while I keep my face and ears entirely clean. I always shower after milking the cow, but sometimes let it slide in the evening if I don’t feel too sweaty and it’s already getting dark. I re-wear shirts for days in a row, but typically change underwear.

     As it turns out, the goal is not to lower one’s standards for cleanliness, but change them. There are types of dirt that you want to get off and other types in which you can comfortably feel at home. I went to a family reunion this weekend found with amusement how much I enjoyed showing off and defending my farmer hands. At least for a recent farmer, it’s funny how the dirt you choose to keep in a way becomes integral to your farmer identity.