"Though she was young, she was no timid child. She was curious about things. She liked to ask questions... She had a quick mind and she paid attention, picking up phrases of the language, learning how to cook rice and eat with her hands... It intrigued her, the land and the mystery. She loved the thatched roofs and the naked children, the wonderful simplicity of village life. Her eyes seemed to glow; she couldn't get enough of it. She wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, in fact sometimes she seemed fascinated by it. Not blood and gore so much, but the adrenaline buzz that went with her job, that quick hot rush in your veins when you had to do things fast and right. She didn't back away from ugliness; she was quiet and steady. There was a new confidence in her voice, a new authority in the way she carried herself.

Her stare encompasses everything around her, the mountains, the villages, the trails and the trees and rivers and deep misted-over valley, the hurt and the hunger, and the joy. She said, " I know what you think, but it's not... it's not bad."

"You just don't know," she said. You hide in this little fortress behind your stuff and your comfort and you don't know. Sometimes I want to eat this place. Just swallow the whole country, the dirt and the death, I just want to have it there inside me. That's how I feel. It's like... this appetite for life. I get scared sometimes - lots of times - but it's not bad. You know? I feel close to myself. I feel close to my own body, I can feel my blood moving, my skin and my fingernails, everything, it's like I'm full of electricity and I'm glowing in the dark - I'm on fire almost - I know exactly who I am. You can't feel like this anywhere else."

She said it just like that and they all just looked at her with those big round eyes, not believing a word. They don't understand zip, it's like trying to tell someone what chocolate tastes like. That's the thing. You gotta taste it. She was there. She was up to her eyeballs in it.

She came over clean but she got her hands dirty and afterwards she could never be the same. It was like an unnamed drug. The needle slips in and you know you're risking something and though it hurts, you can't stop. The endorphins start to flow, and the adrenaline, and you become intimate with the danger and the devastation. Not bad, she said. It made her glow in the dark. She wanted more. She wanted to penetrate deeper into the mystery of herself, and then that wanting became needing, and needing became craving and she had to go. She couldn't pretend she was the same.

She could look at you with this little smile in her eyes and she was lost inside herself. Lost inside the country and the people and the sadness and the joy. She was the poverty. She was the land. She was still that innocent bright eyed girl from a land far away. But now, she was on fire."

- unknown