Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

AMY TAN
a degree in death—death of the mind if not the body. You could not
write about any bad news, so what was left to write?
The girl was correct. It depends. But how could he tell these Amer­
icans that? They were here so briefly. They would never be affected.
What would they gain by his telling the truth? What did he risk losing
if he did? And as he gazed out on the lake, he saw a way to answer.
“Look there.” He pointed. “There—the man standing in the boat.”
The travelers craned their necks and uttered cries of delight upon
seeing one of the famous Intha fishermen of Inle Lake. My friends
retrieved their cameras, making ripping sounds as they pulled open
the Velcroed cases. They cooed happily as they looked through the
viewfinders.
Walter continued: “See how he stands on one leg while the other is
curled around a paddle? This allows him to glide as he uses his hands
to fish. It seems impossible. Yet he does this effortlessly.”
“Niche adaptation!” Roxanne and Dwight simultaneously called
to each other from their separate boats.
“I’d fall into the lake,” Bennie said.
Walter went on: “That, in essence, is how my friends and I some­
times feel. We have adapted so that we can effect this one-legged
stance and not fall over. We can dream of fish and propel ourselves
forward, but sometimes our nets are empty, our rowing leg tires, and
we are just drifting with the current, along with the weeds....”
My friends had already forgotten the question. They were con­
torting their heads so that they were best positioned for capturing
this oddly beautiful scene. Only Black Spot heard Walter’s answer.
F LOATING I SLAND R ESORT was only a year old, modeled after its
competition, the highly successful Golden Island Cottages and its
sister hotels. It was the subsidiary of a large tribe, which had agreed
to a cease-fire with the Myanmar military junta in exchange for a
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