Most of us over in this side of the world probably know the importance of the rice harvest.  That is if we have spent any time getting to know people in the hills.  Personally I didn't know how important it was until I was able to be apart of it in my wife’s village last month.  Last year I always drove past the rice fields in the low lands while picking up the children from school for Im Jai.  At first I saw these beautiful green rice fields everywhere.  Then after about four or five months they all turned yellow and then they were all cut down.  I didn't really think anything about it other than how pretty they were.  Now every time I drive past a rice field it means so much more to me.  After the rice has been cut down I can tell if they used a machine or if they used their hands or if they are finished yet or not.  I was able to spend about four days in my wife’s village in Omkoi which is four hours South East of Chiang Mai.  When I got there they had already spent two or three days cutting all the rice by hand using a little curved hand machete that has sharp little teeth on one side.  The first morning that I was there to work we all got up real early had breakfast and then about 6 of us got in the back of a truck and headed down to the field picking up a few people here and there along the way to come and help.  When we got there, there were already some people preparing the work for us.  They cut a big square out in the middle of the rice field.  Then laid down big tarps with a wooden crate in the middle.  Then the women went and gathered big bundles of rice stalks that had been cut the previous days and brought them back to the traps where all the men including my self were.  Then they use what looks like big num chucks to grab a bundle of rice.  Then they walk over to the middle where the wooden crate is and lift the bundle of rice over their head and smack it down on the crate over and over until all the rice seeds or all off the stalks.  Everyone had a big laugh watching me try and use the sticks to pick a rice bundle.  Prangs brother showed me a few tricks and then it just took a little practice before I was off having a good time.  Until after a few hours of smacking rice over and over again.  Your lower back starts hurting and the boredom begins to come.  Then I found myself looking over the fields of rice wondering how much we had to do.  It was huge.  The rice bundles seemed to never stop coming in.  I begin wondering what I got myself into and started feeling greatfull that I was doing this by choice and not because I had to eat.  I would never choose to be a farmer.  But again those people in the village don't get to choose.  If they don't farm the rice than they don't have any food to eat.  Sometimes they don't have any food to eat and all they eat is rice and chilies.  Which I had the pleasure of eating once the food I had brought with me was gone.  See I had brought a lot of food with me to eat.  But fish and chicken and food of that nature is a special treat for them.  So everyone in the family was eating each meal together (the food that I had brought with me).  Then once the fish and chicken ran out everyone split up and ate with their own house hold.  Scrapping together what ever they could find.  I always learn something new each time I go up and spend time with my wife’s family.  Well I guess it's my family now too.

    I do have one praise.  Well I praise God for the whole experience of being able to learn the things that I did during the rice harvest.  But one thing that stood out was this.  On Sunday morning we all gathered for church and they asked me to speak.  Which is normal in the Karen culture to have the guest speak.  They don't get a lot of guest and they love to hear stories or new things about God.  Anyways after I shared one of the men who I had been working with in the fields came up to me with his son.  The little boy about seven years old or so had blood shot eyes with tears going down his face.  One look at him and you could tell he wasn't well.  The man told me that his son had a fever and asked if I would pray for him.  I prayed "Fever go away in the name of Jesus and go run and play like the little boy you are."  That’s it, plane and simple.  Then later that day I saw the boy running around and playing just like I had prayed.  The father came to me and said that the fever had left him and that he had been healed.  Now every time I see that little boy he gives me a big smile.  Where as before he was afraid of me like most of the children there.  So praise God.  I was so amazed and so blown away by God.  It was probably (other than my wedding) the best four days I have ever had up there. 
Please check out my photo journal to view pictures of the rice harvest.  We were all pretty busy working and didn't really take many pictures but there are a few.

Sean

We very much enjoyed your Rice harvest story. Life is certainly different for you there. You probably don't know it but Granny, Grandpa and I all three worked the fields as we were growing up. It is a blessing from God to be able to do so.