march back in time

I wish I had taken my camera into town today. In the square, they were keeping alive the provincial dreams of the fifties. Marching girls. Competitive marching girls in beefeater hats, but fluoro pink and orange, and tiny kilts, legs tanned and impossibly shiny. They march up and down in formation and blow whistles, looking like highly organised flamingoes. Back in the day, the government wanted us to be healthy and encouraged us into sports and healthcamps. Undernourished children would be packed off to be force fed and do nature activities, and probably hooked up to dairy-based force-feeding machines. Sport was a good thing according to these social welfare theorists, but they were loath to breed agressive, competitive females interested in contact sports ... so the gentle art of competitive walking up and down in straight lines was invented ... yes you can win gold medals for deportment. So its all grim smiles and artful formations, rather like synchromnised swimming on dry land. Now that there are women's rugby teams, boxers, cricketers ... so much for poor ball handling skills, and menhave taken up netball .... you'd think the marching girls would have got their marching orders

hey you can see my house from here

So this is where I shack up when I'm in the village. Stylish and comfortable, shame about the lack of air conditioning ...











So the weeks passed in the sun, photographing my sisters' and brothers' babies and drinking kava with the men, and pleased to say speaking their language...
















two of my nephews ...

Still too tired ....

Back in the 'Grad

I'm back and all in one piece. 4 mosquito bites, suburn, chest infection, gum infection and strange lump on my lip ... thanks kava bowl. In need of rest. Stay tuned for pictures of cute children ...yikes ... what kind of blog is this?