Day 6 - "Fat, red, hairy and beautiful..."

Before I left for school, I sat down with Dr Alemu once more. He has only just taken over as head of the charity, whilst Dr Minas has stood down to concentrate on the University construction. A nicer man you could no wish to meet. He is very familiar with the UK having studied in Aberdeen in the 1970's. He also introduced me to his daughter Bethlehem, or Betty, who works for the charity and has a Masters in Electronic Media, so we discussed the potential of social networking sites like Facebook, Youtube, MySpace and Flickr to drive traffic to the charity's website - be prepared to be poked very soon.

I reached the school at 10am for my first art class. This was a class of around 50 grade 2 pupils, with limited English, and there was no teacher to support me so it was... interesting. We were doing self portraits and it would seem I managed to get through to about 70% of them. The rest drew me. After 45 minutes, I emerged slightly wobbly and shell-shocked, much to the amusement of the other teachers. I then found Lauren and Fiona who were taking PE lessons. A word about Fiona: she is a superfit Australian who works for International. As far as Fiona is concerned, everywhere is within walking distance - we could probably have saved on her airfare and just asked her to set out a week earlier with a backpack and a pair of stout Timberlands. She had the kids doing drills like the Red army on May Day.

After two periods, I was quite relieved to have another art class or two to recover. Leaving the field, one of the children ran up, rubbed my belly and pronounced, "You are fat!" She then pointed to my head and told me, "You are red!" Finally, she stroked my arm and announced, "You are hairy!" As I walked off, slightly depressed, I heard I say, "You are beautiful." Fat, red, hairy and beautiful. OK so it's not up there with young, gifted, and black but I still think I may get it printed on a t-shirt.

There have been times when I've considered whether I could this kind of work on a more permanent basis. Usually after a six hour local management board meeting. Sitting here tonight, I realise I couldn't. I don't have the resilience or stamina or faith of these people. It is my cross to bear that I was born a genius of marketing, a shallow but lucrative profession, which means my role is only ever going to be raising as much awareness and money as possible for the people who do have what it takes. Which is why I'm sitting in the hotel lobby, half asleep, writing this diary, and why you're soon going to be sick of hearing from me with yet another scheme to raise funds.