Pushkar, India

She was playing with her little brother, squirting water, over his little head. Both of them seemed to enjoy the refreshment thoroughly in this dry and dusty place.

When we walked by, the adult man on the ledge said something to her that I could not understand. He started playing music on some sort of selfmade fiddle, and gestured her to start dancing. 
The smile on her face disappeared like the last patch of snow on the lawn does on a sunny winter day. Slowly she statrted a routine of traditional Rajasthani dancing, guided by his fiddling.

We told the man that she did not have to do that, and asked him to show us where he lived.