Press

AYE’S STORY

Aye’s Story

Bucks County Courier Times
By Joan Sara Klatchko

‘Aye’ means cool and peaceful, a fitting name for a child whose life is defined by water and flowers. In a household of seven people, six year-old Aye is the youngest – and luckiest. Her father – like most Burmese farmers, grows rice during the monsoon, and struggles to irrigate his flower crop during the dry months. But when a shipment of nifty foot-driven water pumps came on the market – with their ability to extract almost three times as much water with a fraction of effort – the debt-ridden farmer warily took out an interest-free loan (the non-profit IDE, who markets the pumps, has a strict purchase-only policy, to reinforce the sense of ownership). The gamble paid off – in a few short months, his flower yield increased from 20,000 flowers to 50,000.Is Aye’s family poor? Most Americans would think so. They have no TV or car. No indoor plumbing or electricity. Seven people – none with an education above the mandatory 4th grade – live in a two-room bamboo dwelling.

 And yet. They own a bicycle, a sign of wealth, like Aye’s earrings – who wears a spotless school uniform. The family shrine boasts a high status offering to the God of the Fields – two cans of C-Plus, the local soft drink. They eat simply, but well – rice, fish and stewed vegetables, and the roof is re-thatched each year. Most important – the extra income has allowed them to pay off debts. For the first time in memory, they have extra money – and a few dreams for the future.What will they buy with the extra income?

“A radio,” said Aye’s older sister.“Maybe a motorbike,” said her brother.
“An apple,” Aye shouted, and my driver/translator explained that the imported apple is a rare treat for kids.
“Building materials”, the mother said firmly. “For the house. Wood and brick instead of bamboo.”
“Rubber bands,” Aye shouted again, getting into the swing of things, and my driver explained that Aye’s favorite game is ye-sut, the rubber band game. “I’m the best in the school,” she said proudly.
It was the father’s turn. What would he say? A tractor? Another pump? More land?
“An education,” he said slowly. “Aye’s future depends on fate, on destiny, but my little girl will graduate school. And maybe,” he added, as if emboldened by his own vision. “Just maybe, she will be an engineer, or a teacher. That’s what this money will buy – a different life for my daughter.”