Don't mind doing it for the kids

When we initially planned our trip Duncan and I were bursting with ideas of how we were going to heal the world, make it a better place, for you and for me and the entire human race. We were going to work at an orphanage in China, do conservation work in the jungle, help out at the children's safe house in Brazil and teach English to whoever needed teaching. To date we've done a big, fat nothing which makes us both feel super bad. So when we passed a sign asking for volunteers to help out that afternoon with the local street kids - doing art and stuff we jumped at the chance.

This whole place is heaving with children. They wander around all dusty and dirty, trying to sell you snide copies of books and grubby postcards. If you want a book, it's okay to buy them (Duncan and I got a photocopy of the India Lonely Planet - okay, so it's piracy, but it saved us money and gave some people dinner that night) but you're told not to just give them money or treats, as this encourages begging. But it's hard, hard, hard not to.

So the programme is set up to play with the kids, in a field for about an hour and a half. Silly games like tag, singing songs with actions like "this is the way we wash our face", doing puzzles, colouring-in and just generally allowing them to be children for a short time.



I was really nervous. I've never been that great with children, unlike Duncan who has a natural gift, and I nearly turned back a couple of times on the walk there. I'm so glad I didn't.





It was amazing. Amazing. Us and about 40 local kids. Lovely kids. Naughty kids. Kids who were desperate just to play and jump all over us. There was one little girl who Duncan and I loved especially. She sat quietly with the two of us, holding our hands and was just perfect. I loved her. Plus she had amazing hair. I'm thinking if I adopt her, I can just use her hair and not buy any more from the hair shop in Shepherd's Bush. She gets a better life and I get natural hair on tap. Everyone's a winner. (You know) I'm kidding.





After helping out, the kids now recognise us on the streets and just want a ruffle of the hair or to cheekily put ice down our t-shirts. One little boy, another favourite of ours, is about the same age as one of my nephews. He's sweet and funny and loveable and cheeky and everything a little boy of that age should be. He also sells his body to make money. It makes me cry just thinking about it. I wanted to take him home and love him and never let anyone touch him ever again. I've never, ever had a maternal instinct. I have an over-whelming one here.