"I found him in his rice fields. What beautiful fields we had made! He was so handsome working. It was a glorious day, with a clear, hot sun. He saw me and he stopped working, and I knew before he even said a word that he wanted me. And I wanted him too. He was a beautiful man, simply beautiful. Things would be fine. But he said, ‘Martiya, why are you in my rice fields?' I'll never forget his voice, it was so cold.
"He said that, and I got angry.
"I said, ‘I gave up my life to learn your language, so that I can talk to you. And then you came along, and I give up my man to be with you also, one good man, who had all my souls, who would have taken me away from here. This village was all I had, and I gave up this village for you, too, this village which I wanted. They came to me and said: It is either us or Rice. And I said, ‘Give me my man.' And now you say that the rice fields we made together are yours?'
"He didn't have anything to say to that, there was nothing he could say. He walked away. I walked home through the fields. I had planted the rice, and now it was high.
"That night I was all alone in my hut, and I began to shiver. My teeth were chattering. My whole body was trembling, and the next thing I knew, Lai-Ma was there. She was frightened of Rice, but she came.
"She was stroking my head. She said that I was taken by the spirits in the night. And I said, ‘I was?' And she said, ‘The spirits caught you and you fell down, and you screamed.'
"I guess that's when I first knew how angry Rice was. How angry Rice could be."
"I wish I could say that I was very brave, but I wasn't. If Lai-Ma hadn't been there, I don't know how I would have eaten, how I would have got water, how I would have bathed myself. I spent most of those days sleeping. That little hut was so small. And I couldn't breathe. My chest ached. The only person I wanted to see was Lai-Ma. She was so kind. When I was with her, I calmed down, just a little. But she had things to do. She had her fields.
"And so I would sit there at that desk. I had these conversations with myself. I'd say, ‘Let's go. Let's go now. Don't wait.' And then this voice would be in my head, it was my voice, but dark, it would say, ‘Martiya, where would you go? How could you leave?'
"I didn't think I could live without Hupasha, without the rice fields. I thought about the dyal all the time. What a mistake he made, to give up Rice.
"The first time we made dyal, Hupasha came to my house. I didn't expect him. I hadn't seen him in a year, but I had thought about him. He took my breath away, he was so handsome. He shouted, ‘Tie up your dog!' and then he didn't say one more word. Took me to his rice field. It was a dark night, he led me on the path, up over Big Hill, in the direction of Wild Pig village. I couldn't see a thing, just held on to his hand, we walked for hours. Then the moon rose, just as we got to his rice fields. Just an empty field. I never felt so happy in my life. So this was the dyal, I thought. This was it.
"We planted rice by moonlight. I followed him. He walked in front of me. Hupasha would step forward and rear back and pound the dibble stick into the earth, drive the thing a foot or two feet deep into the earth, and I would breathe in and step forward. We had a rhythm, the two of us, and my part was so delicate and simple, just to take the seed and let it drop; then we'd step forward.
"Then he reached for me. And I saw Rice. Either you know Rice or you don't. Rice is like steam rising from the fields, like silver flames. I didn't know where I ended, where he began. The field was on fire with Rice. His touch, his smell — where does such a good thing come from? I had never before understood what the Dyalo meant when they said, ‘Only a woman can make rice.' Later they would tell me, ‘Stop making dyal. Walk away from dyal.' I couldn't.
"I made dyal, and I got home to the village and all I thought about was dyal. And it's not true that you can only make dyal once a year, at planting time. Rice is always there. I used to ask, ‘What happens if you see your gin-kai when it's not the dyal?' ‘But, Martiya, that is not our custom.' ‘But if a woman sees her gin-kai, what would happen?' ‘Martiya, she would be a slave to Rice.' I never thought to ask why that would be a bad thing.
"That is the dyal, and how could Hupasha want to leave it all behind him? How could he? I'll never understand that, not until the day I die. What is better than Rice?
"I had so much still to learn about Rice. I had just begun to understand Rice, when Hupasha left.
"I must have spent weeks, then months like that. At night I dreamed of being with Hupasha. Of Rice. I'd wake up sweating. Then I'd fall back asleep and have the same dreams all over again."
"One day David Walker came by my hut. It was toward sundown when he knocked on the door. I saw him through my window. He knocked again, and when I didn't answer, he pushed the door open. He stood in the threshold.
"He was large, much larger than I was — and as he stood in the doorway of the hut, with the sun setting right behind him, the hairs on his arms were very fine and golden. I remember looking at those hairs, and thinking no wonder the Dyalo were so impressed by him, he looks like a tiger to them. Once I went out hunting with Fat Belly, years and years ago. We went deep in the jungle and I saw a tiger. It couldn't have been much farther away than that wall. They say that there are no more tigers in northern Thailand, but I saw one. And when you see a tiger in the jungle — you don't see anything else. That's what I thought about when I saw David.
"David didn't say anything for a moment. Then he said that Hupasha had asked him to come. I asked him why, and David said that he needed to talk to me. I said, ‘Talk,' but he asked if he could come in.
"He was so big, and there wasn't quite enough space in the hut for both of us. We were both sweating because it was such a hot night. His teeth were very white, and I could see the pores in his skin. I could feel the heat coming off him. I was a little frightened of him, to tell you the truth. I asked him the last time he saw Hupasha, and he said that he had seen him just the night before. He had been up there talking about the Bible with him. And I said, ‘David, will you tell me something?'
"David nodded yes, and I asked him if Hupasha was really a Christian. Or whether it was just something that Hupasha invented to get rid of me. That's what I really wanted to know.
"David thought for a long time. He said, ‘It was hard, what he had to do. Choosing for the Lord was the hardest thing he ever had to do. I think he wants to be a Christian — and I think that's enough. God put the desire there.' I thought about that a minute, and I said, ‘Does he want me back?' and David said, ‘Martiya, all I know is that he never, ever wants to go back to Rice.'
"‘But he loved Rice!' That's what I said. I said, ‘David, you have no idea how happy we were together. It was the most beautiful thing in the world, when we were together and made rice. I think we would have been together forever, if you hadn't come along.'
"David leaned forward. I could smell him. He smelled like earth and clay. He said, ‘Martiya, I need to tell you something. I talked to him yesterday. He wants to go back to Burma and tell them about the Lord.'
"I felt like a candle was melting inside me. But I still didn't cry. ‘Was this your idea?' I said. David looked at the ground, and he said, ‘He asked me what I thought about it, and I said that everyone needs to know the Lord.'
"‘But how is he going to eat? Where will he get rice?' I said, and David told me that the Christians had made a rice fund for the evangelists.