Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

SAVING FISH FROM DROWNING
“I’ve done guiding on a number of ecotourism trips,” Wyatt said,
“where the clients pay a lot of extra money to plant trees or to do re­
search on endangered species. Maybe they can do something like
that here. Get people to come and help them set up ways to become
self-sufficient.”
“We could each give them some money when we leave,” Esmé said.
“We can tell them it’s for the children.” My friends accepted this idea as
the obvious way to be of immediate help and lessen their discomfort.
“A hundred each?” Roxanne said. “I have enough to cover all of us.
You can pay me back later.” Everyone nodded. This was the same solu­
tion they used for many situations. I am not criticizing. Most likely I
would have done the same. Give money. What more can a person do?
Roxanne picked up her camcorder and did one final pan, resting longer
on the maimed, the young children, the old ladies with their smiling
faces. Wyatt put his arm around a man missing the lower part of his leg.
The two men grinned at each other as if they were great friends.
“We’ve come to this beautiful place,” Roxanne narrated, “and
we’ve learned that within beauty, there is tragedy. The people here
have suffered terribly under the military regime...it’s heartbreak­
ing. . . .” She spoke of the forced labor, the explosions of land mines.
She concluded with a promise to help. “We can’t just give them sym­
pathy or a token bit of help. We want to help in a bigger way, a
substantial way that can make a difference.” She was speaking, of
course, about their generous contribution.
They decided to give the money to the twins’ grandmother. She
seemed to be the one who bossed people around the most. They had
a little ceremony to thank her for the tribe’s hospitality. They spoke
slowly in English, bowed to express gratitude, made a thumbs-up
sign for the food, gestured around at the wonders of this dark, dank
settlement. They put on sad faces, as if reluctant to leave such
wonderful people.
Then Roxanne stepped forward and took the grandmother’s tiny,
289