There was a small bati (local road house) down by the Storm River. This is where my friend, Dennis, took his meals during the early days of our Peace Corps Service.  Here we ate amidst wood smoke, chickens, hearty laughter, and a leaky roof. There was always something going on in that place and we took it all in.

In the evening one spunky boy would be told to do his homework. He would begin his out-loud recitations, but after a while the kerosene candle would flicker and his attention would wander. Then he would find a torch (flash light) to work with and would continue till it's weak batteries would give out.

I don't recall the exact circumstances of this photo...  But it remains one of my favorites...

Where is this boy today? I do not know, but chances are good that he is overseas: in the Gulf, United Kingdom, Singapore, or Brunei...  Perhaps working as a security guard, a mercenary soldier, or a policeman...