In the late afternoon they came to a valley, and there, in a clearing on a hill, was the village where they were to stay. The villagers knew the anthropologist and were expecting the visitors. A few men came out to meet the group. They looked nothing like the people of the plains – they were stockier, with wide faces and a different style of dressing. One of them stepped forward and greeted everyone in turn. He was the headman, and his son was about to get married – the wedding was to be the subject of the film. My parents didn’t speak the local language, but bowed to everyone to show goodwill.

The newcomers were billeted around the village. My parents were installed in the headman’s house. A windowless inner room had been set aside for them, whoever usually occupied it chased out into the family’s living area. They met the headman’s wife and his two sons, a small one and a boy of about nineteen – the groom. An old woman served the visitors warm drinks, something like tea but muddy.

These formalities had hardly concluded when the headman spoke to the anthropologist, gesturing outside – what he said was translated later for my parents. A feast had been planned for that evening. The next morning, the groom, together with every man in the village, was to have set out to meet his bride. Her village lay over the mountains, on the far side of a ravine. The bridal party having set out at the same time as the groom and his escort, the two groups would meet halfway. The bride and her companions would be accompanied to the groom’s village, there would be more feasting, and the marriage ceremony would take place the following day.

But word had come from the bride’s village at noon. Although it was the dry season, the skies on the far side of the mountain were threatening rain. By the time Ivy and the others arrived, clouds had formed over the groom’s valley as well. In rain, the route between the two villages was impassable. The ceremony would have to be postponed. Before the evening meal was served, the first drops fell.

It rained for two days. Sometimes it eased for an hour, but it never stopped altogether and soon it would thunder down again. There was nothing for my parents to do except eat, read and play cards. The anthropologist didn’t mind the delay. He used the time to film interviews with villagers, dashing between their low houses with his helpers whenever the rain allowed.

The old woman was the headman’s aunt. She wore a bracelet made of seeds on her scaly arm. Her age was a mystery, but everyone knew that she’d never married. When she wasn’t occupied with household tasks she sat beside Ivy, leaning against her to squint at her cards or her book. Every morning, she combed and braided Ivy’s hair. She laughed a lot and liked to stroke Ivy’s face.