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Note the huge headgear, made of a light bamboo frame
and brightly coloured feathers.
came the sound of music. The only opening through which I could see into the interior was a
small, square hole, about two feet from the ground, which was door and window all in one. In
one corner a few pieces of grease with wicks in them provided a dim and nickering light that
enabled me to see a crowd of Indians packed together like sardines. The band was in a corner,
and as there were too many people to dance they merely bobbed up and down to the rhythm
of the drums. The rank smell of dirty and perspiring human bodies, mixed with the fumes of
strongalcohol, wastoomuchformeandIwasgladwhenIbreathed thecoldanddrynightair
once more.
fleeing. A fight had started and missiles were flying in all directions. Some were throwing
while the fighting mob disappeared in the darkness of the night. Such fights frequently occur
atthe fiestas whentwoormoretribesassemble,butasarulenexttonoharmisdoneandwhen
thelosershavebeenchased fartowardstheir distant homesthevictors return,andbothparties
wait for the next opportunity to have another go at one another.
I had heard about an old thermal bath somewhere near the village and did not miss the
chance to go there and to get clean once more, and to have a much-needed shave. That night
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