On Tuesday night, I was sitting in a little hut, trying to help a student write a story of her life and goals. We were sitting cross-legged and bent over a little makeshift table with two candles lit, struggling between her English and my Karen.
We had worked for over an hour when Yim, our faithful translator showed up. I was pretty thankful, because we were hitting a wall. And I didn’t even know what time it was–just sometime past nine when the generator, and thus electricity, is shut off.
We sat and talked for awhile, when there was a growl.
Yim’s eyes widened and she looked toward the small window cut-out. “What was that?”
“That would be my stomach,” I told her. “I’m just hungry.”
Her eyes got wider in surprise. And I just laughed. I don’t think the Karen have any idea how little rice I can fit into my stomach in one sitting. And if we eat at 4:30pm, I’m pretty hungry by the time I go to sleep at ten!