The Guy and I decided to go out to some kind of event this year, given that we have never done that. Dinner! Alcohol! Dancing! seemed to translate into fun. As it went, not so much. The food was fine, but the DJ and the dance floor were pretty pathetic, and we came home soon after midnight.
But well, never mind, I thought. The event I was really looking forward to that weekend was going to a small village school on behalf of Friends of Children.
On Friday evening, we set out with some friends to a farmhouse a little away from the city. The plan was for the Guy and me to leave later that night so that we could get some hours sleep before our expedition on Saturday, while the other friends partied on. But the quiet night and the presence of friends seduced us, and we stayed up all night talking and eating and drinking. At nearly five in the morning, the Guy and I made our way home. We got lost on the way and only got home at a quarter past six, fifteen minutes after our cab was due to arrive.
The cab arrived ten minutes after we got home, and after we had hurriedly freshened up and changed, we got in. It was only the two of us and the sole FoC employee. We drove on for hours through bumpy roads before we reached our destination: a little village school set on the banks of the river, with tall hills rising behind it.
We met the teachers and spoke to the little children, and distributed the things we had got with us. Bananas and biscuits and toffees, at first, and then sweaters and school bags and stationery and flip-flops. Seeing smiles appear on those cute little faces was worth the lost sleep.
I leave you with some pictures, taken by the Guy.