There is a moment of absolute stillness – the battered football whizzing through the air, all eyes following it, before it crashes down into the glass case and tiny gasps escape little mouths. Thankfully, it rolls off, leaving the glass and the encased Buddha statue unharmed.
We are playing football on a dusty, sunbaked escarpment with a group of farm children, and amid the excitement I almost destroy the village’s religious relic. But the game goes on, with limbs flying everywhere, toes (mine) getting stamped on and the football continuing to fly skywards.
