The Angel of Bang Kwang Prison (17 page)

I went to the Foreign Affair Ministry and got all the documents translated and did everything that I was asked. But, it was not to be. There was always some silly excuse. I felt I was being thwarted at every level, no matter how much research I did and how many papers I filled out. Afterwards I wondered if the guards and prison officials were trying to protect me. The whole episode over the heroin package left a bad taste in the guards’ mouths and once more some of them tried to convey their apprehension over my choice of husband. Of course, they knew more than me and were a lot more pessimistic—or realistic—about Garth’s ability to kick drugs forever. The heroin I had accepted, just because of where he was spending his days, months, years. I had nodded in understanding when Tom told me that he just needed to be a heroin addict until he knew he was leaving Bang Kwang. I didn’t agree with it but I convinced myself that it just had to be. Drugs were so easy to get in the prison and if you weren’t drinking, you needed something else to cope with that life. Many inmates over the years of the prison’s history had literally gone insane—this was a real threat that you had to protect yourself from.

Anyway, I had asked Garth to kick the habit and he had in the six months before his transfer date. I was so proud of him and enjoyed the new junk-free Garth who was full of energy and enthusiasm. What I didn’t know, and what the guards presumably did, was that the spring in Garth’s step was thanks largely to the speed he was taking as a substitute for the heroin. As they say, ‘ignorance is bliss.’ I was busy packing me and Talya up. I had been reading up on America and floated ideas like moving to Costa Rica or Mexico. I wouldn’t be leaving for America with Garth; there was so much still to be done, and besides, he was heading to the Metropolitan Detention Centre in Los Angeles for a couple of months.

One more problem had to be dealt with as the men busied themselves for their return to America. No aeroplane would bring them home. This was the aftermath of 9/11 so the American airlines refused to transport the prisoners, even when the US government told them that there would be a full prison escort of six armed guards in service. It was a worrying time but it was all sorted in the end. A plane was booked, and not just any plane. Before collecting the American prisoners it had dropped off illegal Cambodian emigrants back to Cambodia. The emigrants had been caught, with expired green cards, in America and had spent the previous six months in an American immigration centre, waiting to be deported. Only the story wasn’t as black and white as it seemed. I later found out, via
The New York Times
, that these Cambodians included children who had been born in the US. Therefore, they had never seen Cambodia and had little or no knowledge of the language; they considered themselves, instead, to be American and had been forcefully uprooted from the only home that they had known. They and their families had no rights or say in where they wanted to live. It was a deplorable situation.

That long-awaited Friday, transfer day, had finally arrived. I was so excited I couldn’t eat a morsel of food. My friend Mary and I galloped down to the prison just as the five guys, including Garth, were being lead out, still in their chains. Garth hadn’t slept in three days and his eyes were as round as saucers—from the speed no less. They were dressed in civilian clothes, with proper shoes, and they all looked scrubbed up and utterly ecstatic. They were all big, tall men, but looked as nervous and unsure of themselves as young schoolboys being allowed out by themselves for the first time. They seemed to hover in front of the van like uneasy wall flowers at a raucous party. My heart just melted at the sight of them.

Mary and I stampeded through the bushes and ran at them, hugging and kissing them, reminding them that this was a joyous event. The guards didn’t try to stop us. I think we two girls brought an element of normality to the situation and the guys could release their emotions with flowing tears and words of thanks. Garth put his arms around me and lifted me clean off the ground. I buried my face in his neck and whispered to him through my tears. Then the guys were led onto the prison van. Chavoret was in charge of the transfer and I smiled my biggest smile at him while asking if Mary and I could travel with them? However, Chavoret was a stickler for the rules and told me, through gritted teeth, ‘No you can’t. This is official business.’

It was worth a try.

As the guys were being settled into the van Mary and I flagged down a taxi. Once the van took off we gave chase all the way to the immigration centre. The driver enjoyed our hysterics as he speeded up in order to drive alongside the van at one point. The guys almost had their noses pressed up to the windows, taking in all the sights after so many years behind bars. It was a beautiful December morning, Pearl Harbour Day in the US, and the sky was high in the sky. Bangkok had never appeared so beautiful and exciting as I looked at it anew through the eyes of the Americans.

When we arrived at the building we had a few moments with the men outside. There were a couple of journalists waiting to see me and Garth. Photographs taken of us enjoying ice-cream cups side by side appeared the next day in
The Bangkok Post
. Then, it was time for the men to go inside. Mary and I were told that we couldn’t follow.

‘No way!’

I thought to myself and headed up to smile at the deputy commander and asked him nicely if I could please, please go in to be with Garth. He couldn’t resist me, and Mary and I ran to catch up with the others. The guys were in a cell and I squatted on the other side so that I could kiss and embrace Garth. We weren’t going to have any time together so there was no way I was going to wait politely on the streets and miss possible precious moments like this. I would kick myself afterwards if I just obeyed silly orders.

The prisoners were then led into another room where they were met by some Thai officials and two other female prison visitors who had cared for the women inmates for some time. They lined up to have their photos and fingerprints taken. You wouldn’t believe the amount of administration involved in a prison transfer. I was delighted to see that food had been provided and there was even salsa music playing in the background. The volunteers, inmates and myself all wanted a party atmosphere and there certainly was plenty to celebrate. I had the briefest few seconds alone in the corner of the room with Garth and we hurriedly told one another that we loved each other and exchanged rings.

All too briefly the suits arrived—two important officials from the embassy. I didn’t know them but they frowned at us, their misgivings over our presence clear for all too see. I held my breath, thinking that they were going to say that the transfer wasn’t going ahead. The prisoners had to take their seats on the other side of the room and we weren’t allowed near them. My panic turned to delight when the officials opened up their bags and handed around Kentucky Fried Chicken meals as their last goodwill gesture.

It was time for me to leave. I blew Garth a kiss and headed outside, elated and sad at the same time. It was weird to leave that party atmosphere and simply head back out onto the streets and continue on with my day. I was going to miss Garth terribly and hoped that the next few months would go by very quickly.

The guy from the embassy rang me later that evening to assure me that the men were on their way home safe and sound. The following morning the phone woke me. It was a very excited friend of mine telling me that I was on the front page of the newspapers. I was barely awake as I stumbled over to my computer to check out the news page on the internet. It took me quite a few minutes to remember I was stark naked and in full view of some neighbours who were breakfasting on their balcony and doing their utmost to pretend that they couldn’t see me. I waved my apologies and returned to my room to put on a sarong.

Garth arrived back in America on 9 December 2002. He spent 90 days in the detention centre in LA. On 8 January he was interviewed about his Thai crime and made a statement fully accepting responsibility for his actions:

‘I pleaded guilty and I knew what I was doing. However, I did not travel knowing in advance that I would smuggle drugs. I wish it had never happened. I never had a chance to say goodbye to my mother. I am sorry I committed the offence.’

When he was asked what he would do following his release he said that the first thing he would do would be to go to Monterey and meet up with his family. It was agreed that he would move in with his brother, Rogan, and his girlfriend Angie. They had formally declared that they were ready to provide Garth with room and board and assistance with settling back into the community.

Over the next few months I continued with my prison visits. When I arrived at the visitor’s registration room I kept automatically adding Garth’s name to the list of prisoners I had come to see, which made the guards smirk. It was just strange to think that he was back in America now but I also felt good about the fact that without a boyfriend in Bang Kwang, at the mercy of the guards, I didn’t feel so vulnerable anymore. Nobody could make me uncomfortable and I didn’t have to worry about my behaviour causing him any hassle. I was tying up loose ends and had sent Talya to spend some time with her dad’s second family, her half-siblings. She really impressed me with her maturity at this point and told me that it would be better if she followed me to America a couple of months later, thereby letting me and Garth get properly acquainted and settled before her arrival. It made perfect sense to me when she said it and I’ll always be grateful and proud of her for this.

There was only a couple of suitcases of stuff. I had given away everything else and then moved into a hotel for the last week or so. Joe and Lena, good friends of mine, had lent me most of my furniture to date so I returned it to them. Everything else I gave away, including a most beautiful coffee-table, hard backed book about Mother Theresa, with lots of fantastic photos. I had received this as a present the previous year from one of my dearest Aussie friends, and found it inspiring—she had always been a role model of mine and I would’ve loved to have met her. I was delighted to pass it on and make a present of it to my good friend Nina. She was heavily involved with most of my projects and would continue to make prison visits after I was gone.

In fact there were plenty of people to take over the work. Most of them had been doing it all along. I had such a good friend in Buzz, a retired, well-heeled attorney from Pheonix, Arizona in the US. He had already given so much of his time and resources, especially in regards to the Naval Psychiatric Wards and Drug Rehab Unit and was 100% reliable, which was why I was going to ask him to take over my role there. I didn’t get to ask him, however, as he approached me first to offer himself instead. He’ll never know how grateful I was to him for that.

Dr Shan, a British forensic psychiatrist, was also a good mate. I had first met him in Klong Prem prison and he introduced me to his friend, Dr Bob, a retired dentist. The two men were doing Trojan work in the prisons and were going to take over the glasses project in Klong Prem, ensuring that the elderly inmates received eye tests and spectacles as required, which is still on-going to this day. They were also involved in Bang Kwang, offering free psychiatry and dental care to the inmates. By this stage there were also plenty of voluntary prison visitors who filled the gaps. You can’t imagine what one simple visit does for an inmate in Bang Kwang. You can bring him nutritious food, like bananas or carrot cake, or even a bottle of shower gel or deodorant and chat to them about the outside world, just making them feel human and a part of the world again.

Basically there were plenty of people to cover my absence. I was experiencing the same feelings that I had when I was making my preparations to leave Australia for Asia. In one way it felt that my time in Thailand was up and it was right that I should be moving on. Some of the old Thai officials that I had known and worked with were being replaced with new, tougher characters and I missed the men of old. Also there was a horrible atmosphere in Bangkok now thanks to the government stepping up its war on the drug trade. The police were arresting suspected junkies and dealers willy nilly, or else shooting them dead in the streets. Gun fire battles were becoming the norm in some of the provincial towns, like an Al Pacino movie, which might sound a bit exciting but makes for a very tense atmosphere once the sun goes down. Also, prison executions were back in vogue; for the first time in a couple of years, death-row inmates were being killed again, which resulted in a heavy air of depression and negativity that, of course, affected me when I visited. The execution room is on the prison grounds and before they got in a new gun, the fatal gunshots could be clearly heard by the other prisoners. There was also the fact that a lot of the western prisoners that I had known had been sent home, which was a great thing, but I couldn’t stop myself missing familiar faces. Everything was changing so it seemed only natural that I should be leaving now.

My friends gathered around me and I had lots of invitations and phone calls. There was a whirlwind of brunches, coffees, lunches, dinners and suppers to go to, which kept me nice and occupied. I don’t think I slept very well on my last night in Bangkok. There was a small farewell party thrown for me by my friends Joe and Lena—just dinner and a few drinks. They were all very supportive but let me know that I was going to be missed, as much as I would miss every one of them. A woman should remember to look after her friends; they’re the ones who are there for you through thick and thin. Over the last 17 years we had been through so much together and I had depended on them for help with the work, with Talya and when I wasn’t well. It would be a wrench to leave them but they were positive that I was starting a great new life, and promised to come and visit when I settled.