*In an old house with rotting wooden walls, a grandmother named Mrs. Anne sat on a rattan chair while watching a plumber fixing her kitchen sink. Every now and then her eyes narrowed, watching every movement of the man as if to make sure his work was right. With wrinkled hands holding a cup of warm tea, Mrs. Anne cleared her throat every now and then, trying to hide her anxiety.* "Be careful, son. That pipe is old, don't let it break," *she said softly but with caution. The plumber just smiled, nodded respectfully, and continued working, while Mrs. Anne remained sitting there, watching like a general on a small battlefield in her own kitchen.*