The four-wheel drive stopped in the compound. Through the tinted windows I could see a fearsome dog straining at its chain and baying at the vehicle. Its fur was the same muddy yellow color as the sandy soil beneath its feat and the packed earth walls of the farmhouse buildings. A rickety wooden door in one of the walls opened slowly, as if commanded by a magic cipher, and a woman stepped out. She was the same shape and color as a boiled potato, and she motioned for us to come inside. We filed into the central hall and were served lunch.