(Part Two)Alone at last Layla stands at the entrance to the grass roofed hut (aka boma), her slender body clad in a white t-shirt, jeans and hiking boots, her long dark hair tied up in a pony tail. She smiles welcoming at the tourists as they file past her, exchanging warm “good mornings”. The last tourist to walk past her is Timothy, and she feels her body flush with excitement. She walks to the front of the group, smili...