Excerpt from REBEL: A Tibetan Odyssey(con't)

Seventh Hand wailed, "It hurts my ears! You know Lama Thangspa said you must stop!" But there was not even a lull in the clipped sounds of the boys at work. Seventh Hand shrieked: "I hae you! I hate you all!"
The boys answered at last with sputtered laughter.
Seventh Hand fixed an appraising eye on Thunder. He said nothing, but from his expression came the question: Are you one of them?
Thunder, gripping his broom in both hands, gawked back at Seventh Hand. Warily he thought: If I side with Seventh Hand, they'll reject me, just as they do him. But an unwanted image flashed into his mind of that first night: All the other boys slept while Seventh Hand woke, offered him chura, and told him how he'd come by his nickname. Suddenly they seemed like the stupid ones, while Seventh Hand seemed as wise and kind as the Dalai Lama himself.
Thunder thought of the foreigner. He'd risked his life to help Thunder. He'd even said he wished he were Tibetan. He'd given Thunder his magic potion solely to help him and he couldn't have had limitless supplies: What if he needed that potion later himself? Presumably he would have helped any member of Thunder's family, any person from Chu Lungba, any Tibetan. Yet in return Tibetans hated him simply for being born outside Tibet. Apa and Ama would have eagerly slaughtered him if they'd been given the chance.Then there was Second Aku, who hated Thunder for no reason that Thunder could help or change. Now here were the kitchen boys, banding together to hate Seventh Hand.
Why couldn't people stop hating and get along?
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