Min Zaw, 36, believes the salve has the power to mend the bones of his forearm, which are pushing up his skin at sharp angles. The swollen arm may already be infected, the village nurse said, so if the leaves don't work their magic soon, Min Zaw may have to have the limb amputated.
Dozens of others in this village and six neighboring communities urgently need medical help, including 18-month-old Ma Pyi Pyi Po, whose right eye is swollen half shut.
Kyaw Win, who is unmarried, has been eating rotting rice from village stockpiles that were soaked by the storm. Chances are the rice is breeding bacteria that can cause diarrhea or other illnesses -- infections Kyaw Win is in no shape to take on.
His leg wound is deep but not very large -- certainly not an injury that would be life-threatening in a typical natural disaster somewhere else in the world, where armies of doctors, sanitation experts and aid workers would have set up camps and emergency shelters by now. Most anywhere else, Kyaw Win would be home free.
But in Myanmar, the only army allowed into the vast disaster zone is the one that has ruled the country since 1962. The reclusive generals controlling the nation see Western aid workers and journalists as likely spies sent to help end the military's monopoly on power.
Under intense foreign pressure, the government has loosened restrictions on aid flights, allowing the U.S. Air Force, as well as several other countries and the United Nations, to fly several aircraft into Yangon's airport. But it continues to deny entry visas to most foreign aid workers, who could quickly assess need and oversee the distribution of supplies. The small number who are now in Myanmar have been restricted to the principal city, Yangon, also known as Rangoon.
In Kyaw Win's village, the only source of fresh water was a small reservoir dug by hand next to the river. It was swamped with seawater, although it could be refilled with clean rainwater if pumped out. But there is no diesel for the generator.
A poorly equipped hospital is in the nearby town of Bogalay. But villagers say they can't afford the eight-mile boat ride or the government doctors who would treat them.
A woman whose right eye was swollen shut and whose forehead bore a large lump said it would cost her about $30 to see a doctor in Bogalay. That's about a month's income, in good times.
