Day 2.

Wake up in Africa. Tea. Run. Cold shower. Spend the day beading and making preparations for the coming ceremony. For the next day or two there are only four of us living here: the two initiates, our teacher and yours truly. It’s blissful and quiet. Birds call from the trees. Bees buzz around the kitchen. Mosquitoes and flies invade us from time to time. The sun calls back every inch of moisture he can find and by lunchtime the mud pools are almost completely dried out and the sky sears us with brightness.

On Friday hoards of the initiates' family members and friends will arrive and more doctors will come. Both the thwasanas have big eyes. Anticipation burns in them. They know from experience that whatever is about to happen will be big, probably extremely taxing, will involve very little sleep and change the course of their lives forever.

We chat, giggle at each other, make light of what’s about to happen. The lodge is cleaned, swept, chairs are washed, more mattresses bought for visitors. We are slowly gathering momentum. Soon things will come to a head.

In the evening the four of us huddle around a gaslamp quoting “The Walrus and the Carpenter” and “The Jabberwocky”.

If this is Wonderland, I am the Queen for today.