Our "Magic Letter" explains in the local language who we are, what we are doing and what we want from the poor people we have opted to interrupt that evening. We use it most nights but we don't usually hand it over to children.
They laughed a lot and the younger ones primarily ran in circles shouting "Hello!" before hiding behind a friend but, eventually, the older members managed to help us out by taking it in turns to run into a building and return with a filled bottle of water (I did offer to go with them and fill up our one big water bladder but it was either not appropriate or not communicated effectively).
They then tried to point us to a suitable camping spot. We wheeled off down the road and they continued to shout after us but they did so in unison, each shouting different things and pointing in several different directions. We pitched on a spot that seemed good to us but a shifty man appeared and tried to convince us (we think) that we should stay in his hotel by repeatedly pointing to our tent and acting out having his throat slit. Not reassured by this man or his miming, we picked the tent up and wheeled back up to our friendly young acquaintances.
Eventually we were led towards a large front yard and directed to pitch outside one of their houses. Our bikes were brought over by teams of two kids at a time and the re-pitching of our tent was assisted by many small hands, a little over enthusiastic with the rocks to bash in pegs. Again, food was brought out to us on trays (there was some kind of religious celebration happening that evening, hence the kids and their families were all gathered).
As we woke and prepared our breakfast, an old lady poked her head out of the window of the house above us and dropped a bag of bread down to us which was proceeded shortly by two chocolate muffins. A surreal but brilliant start to the day.
