It was the final day of our project and we awoke to torrential downpour. The monsoon season had set in (much to our dismay as we’d planned to spend our final days in Sri Lanka on the beach). Dressed in plastic bags and bin liners as make-shift raincoats we set out for the last time along the road to Rassandeniya.With heads wrapped up in scarves to protect our well groomed hair from the elements (we made an effort to look nice for the last day), we looked alarmingly like a troop of the Muslim mafia. We were as usual greeted with the familiar cries of “where are you going” and “what is your name” from the ever more confident tuk tuk drivers who don’t actually want an answer to the questions they so vehemently cry out to us, but just like to practice the only English they know. We have learnt to humour them. Today they made an extra effort to slow down beside us, simply to laugh at the fact that we were soaking wet.We arrived at the pre-school, now brightly coloured and beautiful as a result of our mural efforts over the past few weeks, to find that one of the many wandering cows had situated itself in the playground. This demanded a photo. Only in Sri Lanka could it be completely normal for a cow to wander into a school yard and for no one to even bat an eyelid. We on the other hand were most amused. This morning we had planned a special treat: a children’s party for our little treasures. After final rehearsals for the cultural show that was to take place in the afternoon we played musical statues and bumps and musical chairs. After weeks of practice we have finally got through to the children that you have to get up off the chair each time the music plays rather than just sit and wait until everyone else is out. With the winners proudly displaying their gold star stickers and sucking on a lolly pop we moved on to pass the parcel. It was with some trepidation that they tore off the layers of newspaper. They had no idea what to do or what to expect and we realised that they have never played the game before. To see their faces light up when they came across a prize lurking below each layer (one for every child) was a real pleasure.We treated the children with presents, hair slides for the girls and a toy car for the boys, and plied them with e numbers in the form of cake, sweets and fizzy pop. In return the children’s mums presented us a feast of Sri Lankan cuisine: “rasai” as the Sinhalese would say (one of the three words of Sinhala we know).Following a quick dash back to the guest house for showers, we returned to set up a display of the childrens’ art work that they so diligently produced over the summer. I can say for definite that our arts and crafts lessons have been some of the most rewarding occasions of the trip and it has been fascinating to watch the little children so absorbed in the activities we gave them. The school is now packed with paintings and pictures: there is an under the sea wall, farm yard animals, crowns, a tree complete with leaves and butterflies, snow flakes, a Chinese dragon and a lot more. The parents were eager to look at the names written proudly across each painting to identify which belonged to their child. It is difficult now to visualise the once bare shell of the school that is now so alive with colour.The other girls arrived and we all congregated in Miss Felicita’s living room to be dressed for the big show and farewell party. A few weeks earlier Miss Jaghety from the International Office at the university had kindly taken us sari shopping and this was the perfect opportunity for us to wear them. Owing to our complete inability to dress ourselves, half the village turned up to help us. Imagine the scene: 13 Durham students each with at least 2 women from the village dressing, pinning and folding; 2 teachers; at least 10 small children; several dogs and the odd wandering cow all crammed into a very small living room. We felt very much like little dolls, but the villagers were so happy to dress us and were so pleased that we were taking an interest in their culture that we were willing to let them manhandle us to their heart’s desire.We stepped out in front of our audience at about 5 O’Clock and entertained them with songs and dances that we’d prepared, including a traditional Sinhalese dance (our party piece): the pot dance. We watched proudly as the 3 and 4 year old children performed the songs we had taught them in word perfect English. The whole event was so lively and colourful and each child had put an enormous amount of effort into rehearsing dances and preparing costumes. They were so eager for us to watch them. At the end we were showered with gifts and letters urging us to remember Rassandeniya. After a tearful goodbye we were ushered out of the school by the Sarvodaya representatives who were driving us away. The day ended as it began with pouring rain. Rassandeniya was sad to see us go and I can say for sure that the feeling was reciprocated.