Local man speaking in the tongue of his forefathers: It’s that time of year again, my annual trip out of town to see the land of my ancestors, earn a bit extra, but mainly have a laugh.
Interpreter: We have lived in this land for many generations, since time began, my grandfather was the village elder.
Local man: Who’s this idiot with the microphone – still, at least they haven’t brought Jeremy Clarkson.
Interpreter: We welcome you back to our village, now we have the well you built last year our women do not have to walk miles to collect water.
Local man: Thank goodness I don’t live in this godforsaken village, if only they had a decent pub instead of that hole in the ground which dried up two months ago.
Interpreter: I had fourteen children, only three live, if we could build a clinic other wives would not die in childbirth like mine.
Local man: These ridiculous rags are so uncomfortable, I bet the villagers will be glad to get back into their denims.
Interpreter: It is too far for the children to walk to school.
Local man: The village children have all got the day off school again, hoping to get some freebies if they smile for the cameramen.
Interpreter: We send greetings to our dear friends in Great Britain.
Local man: Must remember to skype my cousin in Slough, remind him to watch Charity In Action, see what he thinks of my performance.