Each of us went to a pre-selected village. I lived in an old British bungalow. You stop and Gaudino points down the road and says, “Your village is a mile down that way. We’ll see you in three weeks.” You meet a Chowkidar and develop a routine of going into the village each morning. And for whatever reason I sort of aligned myself with sort of an old bachelor, Harkishot, and had tea and that sort of thing. So it was just being alone there and having to survive and gather as much as you can about village life. I lived by myself in this room with 15-foot ceilings and a fan at the top, mosquito netting for the nighttime. The district officer knew I was coming but he was sort of indifferent. I remember sitting in the fields chewing on the cane itself, because it was raw sugar and that was largely how people made their living. They were quite friendly. Everyone wanted to practice their English. In my office I have pictures of people in the village, kids. They cover my wall.