Those who've come before

A sea of rice fields sprawl out before us. A man works diligently, repeatedly thrashing a bundle of stalks into the ground, each impact releasing more of the kernels that hold Asia's wheat. He's a provider in the purest sense of the word. The rice that he's harvesting is not for sale. It's for his family. Ideally it will last them through the first eight months of the upcoming year. He labors in a valley cradled by mountains that emerge like natural skyscrapers, shards of earth so steep that they don't seem passable from below. But they are and we make our way toward them. I'm flanked by Brittany Lane and Anna Kayes. Dense trees replace the open valley air, butterflies flit gracefully around our ankles, mocking our impending struggle in the kindest of ways, and we begin to climb. The path is rocky and steep, but also lush, and beautiful in the way only nature can be. Our guide falls back, curiously allowing me to take the lead. I follow the beaten track up the mountainside. A clay-colored trail pressed into the ancient rocks, it's a path used many times by those who came before me. And those who came before me were remarkable examples of the human spirit. They were Lao farmers. The same people I'd seen toiling in the valley below. They came barefoot with bags of rice on their backs. Forty kilograms for the women, sixty for the men. An unthinkable feat. Young, healthy and unburdened, we walked for almost an hour, up and over, and it felt more like rock climbing than hiking. The thought of their efforts consumed my mind, trying to grasp the mental fortitude it would take to make that trek four times in a single day. I followed their footsteps down the backside of the mountain to the primary school at its base, past a gaggle of single-shoes boys launching their sandals toward a pile of rubber bands. I smiled at their resourcefulness and imagination, but continued onward, nipping at the heels of those elusive human spirits. There are days, moments, like these, that seem impossible to forget. The sheer magnitude of my fortune seems too grand to ever lose sight of. But the vision of those farmers from that mountainside perspective inevitably fades, as does the sense of marvel as those who have come before me. But for now, I'm hot on their trail, following those spirits out of their homeland, back to Thailand and on to India, inspired by their strength, drive to provide and will to survive.