Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

SAVING FISH FROM DROWNING
Harry. “Well, perhaps they’re having a very small trouble.” He made
a pinching gesture with his thumb and forefinger. “Small. Could be a
problem with the motors, or maybe they’ve been waylaid by a mili­
tary blockade across the lake. It’s happened before. Bombastic figure
arrives from the capital, wants to take a boat ride out to see his pretty
little mistress. So the police cease all other passage—for the sake of
security, they say, but everyone knows it’s really to impress the hell
out of the lady. I believe your American presidents do the same when
touching down at public airports. Nearly the whole city shuts down.
Am I right? So you see, that sort of thing is common everywhere.
Damned annoying, but nothing we can do about it.”
“Nonetheless,” Harry said, “we must notify the authorities to be
on the lookout for them.”
Heinrich grunted. “Have the military police pursue your friends?
Is that it? Not wise, no, not wise at all. Has it ever occurred to you
that this is precisely the sort of thing that could really get them into
trouble?”
“Look, have you got a telephone?”
“To be honest, the wiring for our telephones went down in the last
monsoon—bloody dreadful rain we had in the summer—and we
haven’t gotten around to rewiring. Hard to get the parts out here.
But it helps to give the aura of a secluded resort, don’t you agree?”
He winked at Harry.
“No telephone?” Harry retracted his head like a repulsed tortoise.
Heinrich’s answer sounded suspicious. “How the hell do you ever get
bookings if you never answer the telephone?”
Heinrich gave a placid smile. “It’s all booked by the tourism
agency in Yangon. Assigned, you might say. We get a weekly update,
sent to us by a messenger. Your group was a last-minute fill-in, as you
know. Luckily, we had room.”
Harry was incredulous. “So you’ve done without a phone for all
these months?”
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