Marge takes a well deserved rest and questions her sanity. All the bamboo was purchased in the local village. We had no tools more sophisticated than a saw, hammer, and machete. The poles were cemented into the ground. We only pretended to know what we were doing and set to work following a blue print I had drawn on graph paper. Each piece of bamboo served multiple functions, supporting the floor, a table leg perhaps, and the roof. We kept our fingers crossed that it would all come together in the end. I only have a one percentile mechanical aptitude.