Picture an anthropologist, but a very young one, a toddler in leading strings. After years spent safe within the confines of my university, gloating over receiving a place in a PhD programme, picture me being thrown out of my comfort zone and into the field. Twelve months of ethnographic fieldwork are a requirement for this degree. As Winnie the Pooh would say,

“You can’t stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.” (A.A. Milne)

So, off I go. Apologies for randomly switching from English into French and back again.