Well, Christmas was different. And although I really missed my carols and mince pies and although it didn’t really feel like Christmas - the weather was all wrong and I hadn’t had three months of in-your-face pre-Christmas commercialism in order to become psychologically prepared - Christmas day itself was actually really nice. I went to church for the first time in my life, to play panpipes in mass. Afterwards we all walked back through the streets with our families, still playing, to the Los Masis courtyard, where we danced and played some more and had hot chocolate and pastries. It was all very jolly. And actually really enjoyable too, to play music and dance about on Christmas day with a fun bunch of people. Henry got out his bagpipes and was instantly captured on video by everyone who had a phone on them. I was dragged up to dance with Roberto, the director, because being white I obviously knew the dance steps to Macedonian bagpipe music, or whatever Henry was playing.

After that my parents (who paid me a fleeting visit of four days but for which I was very grateful) and the Stobarts and I went back home to cook the most English Christmas dinner we could manage. We did find sprouts, and made bread sauce and brandy butter, although there was no Christmas pudding and chicken instead of turkey. But it was close enough. And then we had presents and watched Wallace and Gromit and it was lovely.

For New Year we went down to the main plaza, where it was like a war with the noise of the fireworks going off, and threw confetti over each other when we thought it might be midnight. The following evening at Los Masis we did an offering to Pachamama instead of having a rehearsal. This involved pouring a lot of wine and singani over a plate of offerings, placing coca leaves on top and then standing in a big circle with our eyes closed while Roberto walked throughout the house and courtyard ringing a little bell and muttering in Quechua. It proved to be an interesting and rather emotional evening. (Roberto told me how happy they were to have me at Los Masis and that they all loved me and that set me off somewhat, which was rather embarrassing. Oh dear.)

Yesterday, on the twelve day of Christmas, we went and played in mass in the morning, and then afterwards did a big procession through the streets accompanied by two cars and a lot of pushchairs which were covered in colourful cloths, 200 boliviano notes and teddy bears. Here we all are afterwards (Roberto is just behind me at the back with the hat on, Henry´s son Bonno is...er...obvious, and Rene, the guy I´m teaching piano to and get on the best with, is in the front with a blue jacket and holding panpipes in his right hand):