When we lived in Thailand, I visited the Karenni refugee camps along the Thai-Burma border. The Karenni are not unique — many of the world's people have lost relatives, land, and nationhood simply because they belong to a certain ethnic group. But two things set the Karenni people apart. First, they display a strong hope in the face of incredible loss. They dream and talk of the day when they will once again become a free people. (For more information on the Karenni people, see www.prayforburma.org). Second, they use bamboo for everything. Homes, bridges, transport, weapons, food, storage, irrigation — all these and more depend on the resilient, lavish, ecologically efficient bamboo plant. I also began to understand how tough it is for Burmese teenagers. Many boys are forced to join the army against their will. Most live in poverty and have little or no access to education. They are taught that the Karenni and other ethnic groups are the cause of all the problems in their country. The Burmese, too, rely heavily on Bamboo.

I can understand a bit of Tooreh's emotional attachment to the land he has to leave behind. While in Bangladesh, I visited the jute farm that was home to countless generations of my family. During India's fight for independence, Muslims took over that area and my Hindu family had to flee the land. I was the first family member to return in over fifty years, and it was an amazing experience (see my short story, Full Circle, for a fictional version of what my return was like).