An Xiang’s New Ride
It was impossible to look at An Xiang (pronounced awn-shy-awng) without feeling pity for him. He was lying on a crude wooden bed in the corner of the room, his arms and legs contorted and atrophied. We had just hiked into his remote village in China's Yunnan Province, up miles of narrow mountain paths, arriving in the darkness. Xiang's room was illuminated by a cooking fire beside his bed, over which a blackened tea pot was suspended. Smoke filled the room. Although Xiang had limited ability to control his arms, legs and facial expressions, he smiled as he looked at us, his unexpected visitors.
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