In the rounded forms of the mud hut you’ll open your eyes still full of sleep: am I dreaming or is this real?

Through the mosquito net you see small windows cut into the walls, opening onto the scenery like small paintings, pastel colours in the bathroom, fittings smooth to the touch.

You’ll linger for hours under the star-shaped wooden ceiling and straw roof, lost in poetic reverie.

“My friend, my sister…..

All is but order and beauty here,