In a jungle, our life in this earth looks like a road map. My parents' life was so difficult that we hunted nonstop to find something to eat especially in rainy days. A handful of wild fruits, it was a hard seeds and poisonous. My father and I picked them along the river and gathered them. We took them home, cracked them, sliced them thin, and put them in a basket. My father would take them to the river and leave them there for one day and one night in order for the juice to be washed away. I was five years old at that time when it came up in my mind that I will marry a man from far away. I didn't understood how. There are so many different kinds of roads that lead to a dead-end. My father would turn around and find another way. I followed him and put my foot in his footprints in a muddy road. In our thoughts, we have our journeys straight and we are happy to get and focus on it. But the storm suddenly drops that you have no assurance of light. It is so dark that you can't see
