Hi folks, Ben here. Mood = tired, headachy and ice-cream-craving (happily that last one can be dealt with rather easily). Lots and lots of things have happened this month, I'm at a loss to know where to start, and I'm in no mood for lyrical poetics - so with these scissors in my hand I'll cut to the chase.

(snippety snip snip)

First - visitors. As you'll probably know, Beth (a friend from Norwich and Burma campaigner) and my folks (parents from the west country who have, I am assured, done VSO) have, rather excitingly for me, been to visit. Beth's now departed for Bangkok via Mae Sot (see her entry 'Ma Sandar's view' - a very important entry it is too - she flies (if that's what you can call it with Phuket Air) out on the 13th) and mum and dad are tucked up safely back at home after successfully enduring two days of refugee camp heat and two weeks of south-east asian tourist hospitality.

Here's my thoughts:

- Beth was great. She was here overcoming demons daily. For someone who is "terrified of kids", this lady ran with the neverending kailedoscope of in-your-face young 'uns and won - playing, supporting and educating her way through each day to commendable and memorable effect. And this especially so after having to continually battle the demon of pretty bloomin' serious tummy illness day in, day out through practically all of her stay in the camp. Add to that her full frontal attack on the demon of travelling in relatively unsupported places with cultures of a different standard of care, and you get someone who's done terrific stuff and achieved a supreme amount in such a short time - under serious durress and a learning curve way steeper than mine. Nice one moon-face.

- Geoff and Jude did alright, did good. I for one am extremely thankful they had the chance to sample life in the camp and experience a less sterlised world than the relative luxury folks can so easily get accustomed to and drawn into elsewhere, and perhaps return a little way to roots buried somewhere in their own foundation and past (their famous VSO experience was, at one point, confessed to be "a little less rough" that refugee camp life: hee hee!). The steepness and shakiness of the mountain paths, the unrelenting heat, the house-to-house visiting, the intenseness of attention: challenged just a little I think they were, and hopefully this allows them to view the experience (even the slightly trickier ones) with positive reflection. In terms of meeting, greeting, helping, chatting, eating and educating, they rose to the challenge and came out smiling: well done parents!

- Pho Htaung was knackered. There were moments when I had - or at least felt - the responsibility of three very white folks splashing about in a very different pond weighing directly on my shoulders, and this was knackering - even though at the time I wasn't actually doing much regular teaching because of all the change in the air. Ultimately though this is a positive kind of pressure, and one which pales when you realise how what it meant to see people coming into the camp, taking an interest in it and the lives, hopes and dreams it contains. In chatting afterwards to those kids, students and teachers who met with Beth, Judith and Geoff during their time - their presence here was incredibly valuable: the other equally important reason for encouraging the fellow brits over.

So over the course of two weeks a lot happened - though I still haven't a clue where to start with the details so won't. Here's some pictures to fill you in. As it happens tittle-tapping on this here computer has excavated me of both headache and foul mood - so I'll say goodbye here with a wink, nod, smile and big cornetto-style ice-cream.

On our way to visit the school, complete with enthusiastic escourt.

Teacher mum in her sparkly element

We did about twenty of these. It was beginning to tell.

I protested at its luxury, but admittedly it was a bloomin' delicious meal and I did consume aplenty - eating on night of parental arrival with the head master.

Oo Ni Kay and Htwe Yee interviewing Judith and Geoff atop the secret rock.

Dad hanging out with the guys, reading a footy magazine. Later they went break-dancing together.

The family at the end of a Mae La Oon day looking just a little on the bedraggled side.

Beth leaving the camp on what for her might not have been her most happily memorable travelling experience.

Hmmm... who could this be? What is he/she/it doing?

And who's this bespectacled war-horse? Why the need for the longyi?

Ah, that's why. We're bumping along dust-ridden mountain roads at stupid miles an hour in a non-four-wheel-drive vehicle, and things are getting dirty. Goodbye Beth, mum and dad.

Goodbye, Mae La Oon. See you in a bit for one last pre-rainy season testimonial.