.. you know ... like when somebody touches you in the pool. What happens like?” queried Zandra.“Doesn’t matter,” suggested an irritated, preen...ng Wim.“Yes it does,” argued Flore. “A man touched me once, just sort of ... like here,” she indicated her waist.”“Yeah well that’s not much,” retorted Wim.” I’ve had hands on my tits, on my legs and...” her voice tailed off. The black youth serving was rather tasty in her view. She swivelled again, not spotting two men nearby leering. She spotted the. On arrival at this small rural railway station I was greeted by an old turbaned taxi driver and after 90 minutes of rough roads delivered me to an enormous walled building complex surrounded by neatly kept fields.The heavy doors opened and I realized I was entering a religious institution. After a cool drink I was led to the small office of the mother superior who was dressed in a long white habit and head covering and who seemed to be at least 50 years old. The interview went well and she was. More

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