What color are hands supposed to be? I don’t think I remember anymore. Ever since I started at textiles, my hands haven’t been the same. Usually a muddy dark grey or blue on the palms, and red on the backs of them. The red’s not from the dye, but from the raw chemicals and constant moisture. Not only have I forgotten the color of my palms, but I’ve forgotten the texture of skin: surely it hasn’t always been so cracked, splitting.
Is it worth it? That’s the question, isn’t it. Some would say it’s too much work. Others would say that my place is at home, rather than holding employment outside of my family. But most would say that I should be grateful for an income, giving my family a sense of security and future that many simply don’t receive, maybe will never have the chance to attain.
It leaves me to wonder, though: what is the greatest price I’d willing to pay? Will a pair of broken hands be enough? What else will my opportunity take from me, in addition to what I have already received? Time will tell.
*Source: This blog series is inspired by the book “Earth from Above: 365 Days” by Yann Arthus-Bertrand. Click here to read more about my Creation365 series.
The top picture is from “India. Rajasthan. Cotton fabrics drying in the sun in Jaipur.”
Arthus-Bertrand, Yann, Isabelle Delannoy, and Christian Balmes. 2005. The Earth from above: 365 days. New York: Harry N. Abrams.