A jeep makes its way laboriously up the dirt road toward me. I peer into the distance. The car looks vaguely familiar. As the vehicle comes within 50 yards or so, I see agitated movement in the back seat. It lurches to a stop.
Dust billows up from all sides.
A girl I swear is my girlfriend emerges from the cloud, and in slow motion and Vaseline-vision, runs towards me. Somewhere hidden in the bushes, an accompanying string quartet strikes up. She says she mentioned the village at some point. I say she never did. And all because of a photo.