Remote Corners of the Globe

How much smaller is our world than it used to be? Back in the early 90s, I read Tuva or Bust! by Ralph Leighton. Fascinated by the triangular stamps of Tuva and the funny spelling of its capital city, Kyzyl, Leighton and family friend Richard Feynman decide to visit the country. Not only is Feynman one of the most famous and important physicists ever, he was a larger-than-life character, known for late-night bongo sessions and an expansive curiosity.

In the book, tracking down the most basic information about or photographs of Tuva takes a huge amount of work. Leighton and his friends are searching for books at the Library of Congress and in university libraries around the world. It takes months to exchange letters with colleagues in Tuva -- and almost as long just to find their names and addresses. It takes years for them to get permission to visit Tuva and to make the travel arrangements, in large part because the Cold War was still in full swing in the late 70s and early 80s, with the Soviet Union keeping firm control of which foreigners entered their country and where they went. This story wouldn't be a story now. Finding information about a small remote city and locating people there would take minutes and not months. While traveling to and within the Soviet Union and China was extremely difficult 30 years ago, it's not only easier but common and unremarkable now.

There are still a handful of places in the world that would present similar challenges to the traveler. North Korea comes to mind, as does Burma, which is where Mitali Perkins' Bamboo People is set.

The book tells the separate stories of two boys. The first is an educated 15-year-old who is forced to join the Burmese army. Conditions are poor for these young men, but generally not shocking or horrific. Chicko is bright and manages to team up with another soldier who is less educated but more "street-smart," and together the two are able to endure and even find a few ways to improve their situations. Halfway through the book, Chicko runs into trouble on the Burmese-Thai border, and the narration shifts. The second half of the story is told by a Karenni boy, Tu Reh. His family are members of a Burmese ethnic minority, forced from their home by Burmese soldiers and now living in a refugee camp on the Thai side of the border.  Tu Reh's difficult choices force him to link his destiny to that of Chicko, who represents the very people who destroyed his village. The story is skillful and engaging on many levels. While the setting of Burma, a country that has been largely closed off to westerners for many years, is one that is almost certainly not familiar to most American students, the problems of child soldiers and ethnic warfare are more well-known. More importantly for a work of fiction, the universal themes are the strongest. These boys, on the verge of adulthood, struggle with decisions that affect themselves as well as their families and broader community.