The camera follows Buni around her home and garden, recording a series of distinctly non-spectacular events: mashing potatoes, watering the garden, feeding the pigs, bathing, evening prayers, the search for shoes in the morning. There is no attempt at documentary objectiveness, completeness or totalizing meaning (Minh-Ha), nor is there a narrative voice providing a connection between events. Rather, Buni battles the intrusive camera, alternately accepting, rejecting or directing it. She acts upon the filmmaker, as in sequences when the camera becomes a pedagogical tool, a way of teaching her resistant granddaughter church songs. She speaks directly to the viewer, as in sequences where the camera becomes a weapon, a way of revealing family secrets to a viewer far away from her village.