Kids of Navala Part Two

Aaaaand here is the second installment of photos I took of children in Navala. This series you'll see are more centered around hanging out at the river as a few kids do after school each day. 

At the women's group meeting kids sat patiently alongside the ladies, finding ways to entertain themselves, laughing, or nodding off as the sun went down.

A wee bit of boredom. 

Down by the river after school, kids pass over the bridge to go collect fruit in the farmyards, or to swim or bathe and hang out with friends.

The boy on the left helped his Mother with the washing while the boy on the right returned to the village with a shirt full of kava.

What began as skipping stones quickly turned into a hunt once a frog was spotted.

The children grabbed stones to throw at the frog.

 One of the older girls was brave enough to pick up the frog, and began to fling it at her friends to scare them.

This particular friend wouldn't have a bar of it. She lost her lavalava in the process but was far too concerned with getting as far away as she could to care (the girl in the green then proceeded to put the frog in her lavalava). 

 Comparing the frog to a much smaller baby frog!

My camera tended to attract children to where I was sitting. The younger ones, much too shy to converse with me at first, looked to the older children to try strike up conversation with me (the older kids tend to have better English also). It's really easy to look at people from smaller places in "developing countries" (honestly I really hate that term because it assumes that development is associated with a country's ability to become Westernised) as if they are intriguing but neo-orientalism prevents us from realising that we can be objectified (albiet without the power constraints society imposes but nonetheless) and looked at as foreign objects also. It was so funny to sit with these kids and have them work their way into asking me where I am from, whether I have siblings, what my parents do, then into looking and touching my tattoos. They discovered that my skin, when scratched (I had a mosquito bite) becomes red and raised, then white and remains visible for several minutes after scratching. It was this kind of beautiful realisation as it occurred to me that while they didn't know that about my practically transparent skin, I didn't know that about theirs either. We spent time scratching things into eachothers arms and legs, mostly "BULA" "HELLO" and smiley faces. Mine temporarily scarred, theirs didn't.