The Angel of Bang Kwang Prison (16 page)

In that moment he knew that he had just brought a whole lot of trouble down on his head as the other Blue Shirts and guards would be out for revenge. He also knew, without a doubt, that they would kill him as they basically had the run of the prison. But he had a plan. He took to carrying a shard of glass and watched and waited. The attack came a few days later. He was surrounded by a murderous gang, but before they could harm him he beat them to it. He savagely slashed his arms with the glass—everyone knew he was HIV positive—and the disgusted gang melted back into the shadows. There was a tremendous amount of blood everywhere and he had to be hospitalised. When he came out he was moved to another part of the building and was never hassled by the Blue Shirts again. In fact, I think they may have shared a grudging respect for what he did to himself.

He died shortly after. The end came so quickly and was rather unexpected because he had been doing so well. He literally plummeted overnight and when Talya and I tried to visit him we were told that he was too sick. If it had been today he would’ve received the required medicine but back then there was nothing to be done for him. It was a terrible waste of a young life. I fervently believe that he would have made a huge change in his life and might have found happiness. At the time he was writing to a girl in the women’s prison. They had never met but sent each other funny, flirtatious letters. Anything was possible. Garth and I really missed him for a long time after that. So, you can understand why I wanted Garth out of that environment. There’s only so much sadness a normal person can take.

I suppose the two guys, Tom and Dtui, reminded me that you can’t make quick judgements about someone; everyone has a story and a good side to them. The other thing about Tom’s happy ending was that his release illustrated how other countries’ treaties were working just fine. It seemed ridiculous that the ‘all-powerful’ America couldn’t get her inmates out of Bang Kwang.

There were a few unfortunate circumstances that didn’t help at the time. A strong-willed and efficient woman, Judy, left her post at the American embassy for another job. Her successor left soon after, deciding that she hadn’t the heart for the position. Now there were only two Thais at the US embassy; a woman ran the office while a guy visited the prison and kept inmates well informed. They were lovely to deal with but had no power to set priorities within the embassy or push through big decisions.

Alongside this, a minor war erupted on the streets between the Thai government and the drug dealers, and a major campaign got under way to clear the streets of anyone to do with drugs and the business. Releasing foreign drug users and dealers was not part of this new agenda, and the Justice Ministry, Interior Ministry and the Department of Corrections gave the Embassy Transfer Committee the run around. This wasn’t helped by the new hardliner Army General who had come to power. From what I could gather, when the other embassies submitted transfer papers to the committee the Thai officials would interrogate the embassies about how the inmate was going to be received back home, and what further punishment would be meted out. Most embassies stated that the inmates would be re-sentenced according to the Receiving States’ Law which went some way towards satisfying the Thais. However, the American embassy wouldn’t play ball due to being short staffed—there was no authorised representative to address the Thai officials.

Every time the Transfer Committee met for a meeting I would anxiously ring for an update on the American inmates, only to be told that the transfer was ‘pending’. This happened several times and I absolutely loathed being the one to tell the guys that their transfer hadn’t been processed yet. They must’ve dreaded my visits at that time. It was awful to sit there and watch these grown men break down. The stress they were under was unfathomable and there was no one to fight for them with the Transfer Committee. I needed to do something, but as usual I had to be sensitive. It was pointless to upset the officials about American drug dealers during the heightened tensions on the streets outside. They would just say no and have a list of reasons ready to support their decision.

The American embassy contacted me and asked for a 4.30pm meeting on a Friday afternoon. This was unusual—to bring me in after office hours—and I was more than a little nervous as I walked through the quiet corridors down to the conference room. I heard whispers from some passing staff, ‘That’s Susan Aldous, the prison activist.’

I had never heard myself been called that before but it had a nice ring to it. When I entered the room I saw that there was quite a mixture of embassy staff there; mostly women. The Counsel General was there but I didn’t speak with her. The meeting was more instrumental in what was left unsaid, rather than what was actually said. I was grilled by a couple of the women; I think they wanted to check my sincerity and knowledge of the situation. They asked me about the transfer treaty, and, without telling me, I was left to understand that the treaty had broken down irretrievably thanks, in the American’s opinion, to the Thais. Some 60 names had been cleared for transfer while the remaining nine were ‘pending’. I wasn’t an official and therefore could only be told so much, which wasn’t much at all. Their eyes were pleading with me while their language was corporate and correct. When it was finished, a few of us walked outside together, and once we left the building I found myself blurting out the question I’d been waiting to ask:

‘So, what are you really trying to tell me? There is no treaty? These guys can’t go home any time soon?’

Some of the women teared up as they made their automatic responses, ‘We are not at liberty to divulge that information to you.’

But, they just had.

In hindsight I think the treaty broke down because the US wasn’t backing the inmates; the Ambassador didn’t want to stand on the Thais’ hardliner toes. Their priority was to keep a smooth diplomatic relationship with the Thai government and to be seen to support their war on drugs. That’s just my opinion. Whatever the reason was, I felt I had been handed the baton, by the American embassy, to run alone down a potentially treacherous path. I had to watch my back. I was a foreign woman with no legal rights or privileges. I wasn’t even American. I was still followed by the police from time to time and I still had enemies at the prison. All in all, it wouldn’t take much to set me up on a drugs charge, so the responsibility was, potentially, life threatening for me. I walked the streets of Bangkok feeling ill and claustrophobic at my precarious situation. Furthermore, the thought of returning to tell the guys what I had learnt did not appeal to me in the least. And, of course, I thought about myself and Garth and how another year or two seemed like a very, very long time indeed.

I needed a plan of action. I went on Amnesty International’s website and I also studied Green Peace literature to see how they initiated their campaigns. If anything was going to be achieved it would most likely have to come from the embassy, even if it was just a courteous phone call. After all, Thailand needed American business, so we really had the advantage when you think about it.

One American, Jeff, was a wine importer and frequently made time to visit American inmates at Bang Kwang. I contacted him because I knew that he had contacts in CNN. However, bringing in the TV station would be a last resort; I would try the less flamboyant tactics first. I contacted every single American inmate eligible for transfer and explained the situation as positively as I could. I also told them that I needed their help and urged them to write to any influential people that they knew back in the States, including their local representatives. The idea was to
politely
pressurise the American Ambassador with tons of letters and enquiries about the prisoners, forcing him
nicely
to do something about it. I stressed to the inmates that there was no call for nastiness or threatening letters—the more professional everything was the more impact the campaign would have.

It was slow work but we were getting results. Jeff was invited to a Royal function and was delighted to find himself seated next to the American Ambassador and his wife. As soon as it was appropriate, Jeff respectfully asked the Ambassador about the treaty.

The Ambassador replied, ‘Don’t worry, we are well aware of the situation and we’re going to do something about it.’

This was heartening news indeed.

Shortly after there was another meeting of the Transfer Committee and the nine Americans, amongst others, were on the agenda. The meeting was scheduled to take place on a Friday but was then moved to the following Tuesday, as Monday was a public holiday. It was a miracle it was even held on the Tuesday as meetings were frequently postponed for months. I was really nervous because I knew that if the committee ran out of time, whoever they didn’t get to would have to wait for the next meeting, three months later.

The Americans submitted their papers with a little note from their ambassador attached. It worked a charm and I dissolved into joyful tears when I received the phone call, the very same day, to tell me that all the guys had made it. I practically skipped into Bang Kwang on the Wednesday to tell them the good news. Everyone was jumping up and down and embracing one another when three embassy officials arrived to tell the men what I had just told them. It was a huge triumph and proved what could be done if lots of people work together to attain a common goal. Garth and I grinned foolishly at one another—a couple on the brink of a new life together in the ‘land of the free’.

I had made a decision long before that day; if he was ever permitted a transfer back to the States Talya and I would leave Thailand to make our lives with him as a family. It was like a beautiful dream come true, a time of hope and celebration. The last six months of his imprisonment in Bang Kwang flew by with both of us elated and giddy with excitement and plans. We wrote countless letters to one another outlining what we both hoped for from our new life in America. Garth looked the best I had ever seen him. He had lived up to his promise of coming off heroin before his release and I thought his newfound energy and colour stemmed from happiness.

I sent an email out to all of our supporters:

OK folks. It’s time to put the champagne on ice and to start laughing and crying simultaneously while wildly jumping up and down a few times thanking God! Garth and seven other American inmates are heading home on 7 December. Yep, you read that right! It’s finally happening.

I can hardly believe it myself, in fact I don’t think I really will until we are assured that they have taken off and flown well out of Thailand’s airspace.

It’s just indescribable how much of a battle this long, faith-testing, sanity-destroying process has been. Even the embassy staff have been unusually flabbergasted at the amount of time and obstacles that have had to be overcome to make this transfer work.

Ha, they will not tell us just what type of aircraft that they are using to transfer folk outta here, but who cares! A kite would do, as long as it gets them out safely.

For the returnees, hot showers, real beds, filling food, telephones and reasonable treatment will be hard to adjust to I suspect, but definitely well deserved.

Thanks, one and all, for your many years of loyal care and support. It’s kept us going and it sure has meant a great deal. How wonderfully the light of true friendship has been contrasted on this very dark background of suffering.

That summer Talya and I arrived in Australia for our every-second-year month long visit. I brought a letter from Garth. It was time to tell the family about my relationship. I hadn’t told them before because I knew that they’d worry. I gathered everyone into the lounge of my parent’s house and told them I was getting married. Their smiles and shouts of delight crumpled when I told them who the groom was. Typically, my parents didn’t let me down. They were obviously worried but told me that they trusted my good judgement. Garth wrote a long letter to my father, detailing his love for Talya and me while appreciating any ambiguity and concern due to his circumstances. What with our immediate move to America it could prove some time before he met them in person and he desperately hoped to allay any major fears and misconceptions. I still have the letter, which ends:

All in all, I want for you to rest assured that I indeed have your daughter’s best interests at heart and that she and Tally have found a source of love, happiness and caring which is truly unrivalled.

It seemed almost too good to be true. I had found the man of my dreams, who cherished my daughter and I, and on top of that we would move to America where I believed I could continue setting up projects with Garth on his eventual release. We had spoken about maybe heading to Central America and working side by side together. Talya would have a full-time dad who was as devoted to her as she was to him. While I may have experienced some sadness at leaving Thailand, she was absolutely raring to see America.

Our excitement mounted as Garth’s transfer day approached. I did try to marry him before he left Bang Kwang. A young journalist friend of mine, a New Zealander, loved the romance of our story and wanted to write about us with the angle, ‘love behind bars’. She encouraged me to chase the paperwork for having the wedding in the prison. I think it would have been a good thing for the other prisoners. Most of the guys seemed to thrive on my relationship with Garth—it was a positive thing that such a horrible place could bring two people together and foster their love through years of prison visits. Also, I would’ve liked to involved the guards I was friendly with, and perhaps it would be ‘mud in your eye’ for the mean guards who teased us at every opportunity.