| caption: |
letters from Ursula Graham Bower |
| text: |
All the women who have nothing else to do have come into the basha uninvitd and are having a field-day among my possessions while I sit like an island of concentration in the middle. I wouldn't mind so much if they didn't smell so much and spit so liberally. There is a refreshing lack of the conventions among the ladies of Jessami. A girl has just spat on the floor, I have roared with rage, and they have all fled. They all spit furiously in their own houses, but I object to the custom in mine. |
| text: |
This is not a bad basha by any means, but it's rather liberally provided with cracks to which eyes can be applied, and the local young are incredibly inquisitive. |
