Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

SAVING FISH FROM DROWNING
The people here were gentle. They went without so that their guests
could be more comfortable. And no one would have tried to stop
them from leaving. It was just that the bridge was down, so they
couldn’t leave. No one could. She looked at Black Spot, at his
haunted eyes. Maybe they had grown paranoid and delusional from
seeing their families killed. Or perhaps he was delirious with the on­
set of malaria. He did look a bit feverish. Better get the old grand­
mothers to give him the sweet wormwood tea.
E ACH MORNING, those who were strong enough paired up to do
chores. They shook the bamboo blankets free of any insects that had
collected on them overnight, sprinkled more of the termite powder
on the mats. They had tried heating water on the stove, but now they
bathed in the running-stream trough as the tribe people did. They
took turns washing their clothing, whatever needed to be rotated
among the clothes they had worn and what the tribe had given them,
tunics and longyis that were often much nicer than what the tribe
wore. Marlena and Vera were learning from the twins’ grandmother
how to make yarn out of pounded-thin strands of bamboo and
weave it into a blouse. Bennie shaved with a razor that a one-eyed
man kept sharp. The others let their stubble turn into beards.
One morning, Moff and Heidi borrowed two machetes from
Black Spot, grabbed their hiking sticks, and plunged into the rain­
forest to forage for food. They were on the lookout for young bam­
boo shoots, which they found to be mild and tasty, not at all bitter
like many of the other plants. The Karen people had showed them
how to find the young sprouts. As they departed they could hear the
happy shouts of children and adults watching Rupert doing a card
trick.
To make sure they did not get lost, Moff and Heidi first positioned
themselves with the small compass Heidi had sewn to the outside of
357