Local man speaking in the tongue of his forefathers: it’s that time of year again, my annual trip out of town to see the land of my ancestors, earn a bit extra, but mainly have a laugh.
Interpreter: We have lived in this land for many generations, since time began, my grandfather was the village elder.
Local man: Who’s this idiot with the microphone?
Interpreter: We welcome you back to our village, now we have the well you built last year our women do not have to walk miles to collect water.
Local man: Thank goodness I don’t live in this godforsaken village, if only they had a decent pub instead of that hole in the ground which dried up two months ago.
Interpreter: I had fourteen children, only three live, if we could build a clinic other wives would not die in childbirth like mine.
Local man: These ridiculous clothes are so uncomfortable, the villagers will be glad to get back into their denims. Wonder what the missus is doing, how come she always gets out of this, probably having her nails done.
Interpreter: It is too far for the children to walk to school.
Local man: The village children have all got the day off school, hoping to get some freebies if they smile for the cameramen.
Interpreter: We send greetings to our dear friends in Great Britain.
Local man: Must remember to Skype my cousin in Slough, remind him to watch Celebrity Pose Day, see what he thinks of my performance, wonder how much I’ll ‘raise’ this year?
Interpreter: Many blessings on your families for your help.