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We visit Lett Stadium and deliver bread at the gate. Open: we are welcome.
Salutes. We bow. Smiles are inside. We marvel at the progress, walk the perimeter.
Matron nears and presents us with a bag of blue matos, "grown in the midst, Minister," blushes
"for you and the wife." We open the bag to release the sweet breath and beam a thank you.
They have constructed bamboo ladders at various points, set up flash bulb spots at entrances,
lantern repositories, transposed the tree symbols onto stone, guides for the players.
Ria clutches my hand and nods to young twins in matching garb, painting a lake scene up on
a terrace wall. They sense us, look down and smile."
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