A Picnic

When you read the title, you should erase any idea about an American picnic complete with sandwiches and sodas tucked neatly away in a wicker basket. Nevertheless, the NGO (Non-Government Organization) Beth is working with held their annual "picnic" the day after we arrived, so after a (mostly) good night sleep we jumped into an SUV and headed for the hills.
An hour or so later, after asking for a few directions from random "dear uncles" on the side of the road, we arrived and started "hiking" to the lodge. I use that term loosely, for it was really a leisurely stroll up a valley trail. The rugged valley was breaking out in beautiful fall colors, the sun shining brilliantly through the translucent leaves. After walking for awhile, passing an occassional goat and donkeys burdened with freight, we arrived at the lodge where the festivities began.
The men, of course, were seated in one room while the women congregated down the hall. Three musicians formed a band and the dancing began. No formal instruction was necessary, and any gyration that seemed to loosely follow the music was acceptable. After everyone had graced the room with their attempts, the food was served.
[A comment from Beth, who was in the other room: "The particular women that are working in my project are quite the women….one of the other expats described them as ‘drama queens’—which is probably true. Women are the same the world around!"]
Following the meal, several guys and I ventured farther up the mountain to a rock outcropping overlooking the lodge. Then, once a few staff photos were snapped, everyone trundled down the mountain and drove home, ending a very lovely holiday.