Last Sunday, we rented dirt bikes and spent the afternoon enjoying the Lord’s handiwork, seeing the countryside – it’s amazing how creative we are becoming in the absence of a television! The scenery was magnificent, as was the weather, and we enjoyed the interaction with the locals we met and passed on the street. In an effort to avoid Galle Road, we rode back to some pretty remote villages, where we were greeted with smiles, waves, cheers… and some gawking. When Chris asked a Muslim man for directions, before responding, the man just looked at him and then poked Chris’s white skin, like he was really not quite sure what to make of it. A couple kids high-fived us as we rode past and about 15 construction workers stood on the roof of a house, jumping around, with their fists raised in the air whooping and hollering as we rode by. We weren't sure if the locals were intrigued just because we were white, or because there were FIVE of us in a parade of dirt bikes, or if they had just never seen anything quite like our friend Paul, AKA: "Big Dog." He's the one with a white hat turned backwards because the bike shop tried every helmet they had, but did not have one that didn't cut off circulation to his brain. We even got stopped by the police (it's illegal to ride without a helmet, and they love to fine tourists - extra money). When we demonstrated why he was not wearing a helmet (by trying to pound it onto his head), the officer laughed, had no idea how to respond, and waved us on. (Paul is a good buddy from college; he just arrived as a volunteer to help with the project for the next 3 months.) Wish you all could be here to enjoy these fun times with us. What a refreshing day! It was 6 dollars well spent!

Some of the views from the back of the bike (starting with Chris, immediately prior to being completely covered in mud):