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laughed together without a mutual understanding of language, and it mattered little as we had formed a connection with a simple smile. He laughed again as he’ d handed me what I could only describe as a‘ joint’, for all intents it was just that, it smelt of weed, looked like weed, and seemed to have the same effect as weed. I’ d politely declined although, the curiosity of the moment had certainly been tugging at my will power. I’ d motioned that I needed to ride the motorcycle, he’ d nodded and laughed some more, the way a friend who is mocking will laugh. I’ d laughed back as we’ d held hands again.
In a non-dismissive way, my banana leaf joint smoking friend motioned around the area as if seeking my approval, he was motioning for me to explore the other people.
Friendly faces in traditional garb had been as excited to learn about us as we were of them. Both the old and the young, encouraged conversation through rough translations, hand gestures and the familiarity of touch. Time had seemed to stand still in this world whilst racing past with an ever-increased velocity. It was a conundrum of paradigms, being absorbed by the traditional as the people worshipped their surrounds
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