Look, I'm gonna have to call me a time out here. It's crossed my mind that most of you out there got no idea where Laos is, or what the heck was going on there when Waldo and Saifon was in the region. There's probably some of you don't give a hoot.
But I believe, if you're planning to enjoy the rest of this book, you gotta really understand what the hell I'm yakking on about. I guess I could put in bits of knowledge here and there so you pick it up accidental like. But you probably spotted already that I ain't exactly Hemmingway, and I ain't much good at being subtle.
So, here's what I'm gonna do. I found this book, see. It's like a history book but it don't use no fancy words. So even you can probably understand it. I found a bit that talks about Laos in the sixties and seventies. Well, I copied it out and I'm gonna stick it in about here.
I know. I know what you're thinking. But it ain't exactly stealing you see. My dear departed English teacher taught us all how to do para-sailing or something-or other. All you gotta do is change words here and there and no one can tell.
You might notice a slight change of style round about here. Hope it don't spoil your reading.
By 1970, the population of Laos had declined (that means 'got smaller') by a third, to a little over two million. Those who hadn't died in the bombing had fled to neighboring Thailand. Although the news hadn't made it into the newspapers back home, America had been using Laos as a secret base to attack North Vietnamese positions since 1964. That was bad news for the Lao as the Vietnamese supply route, the Ho Chi Min Trail, ran plum through Laos.
During their secret war, the Americans dropped two million dollars worth of bombs on Laos every day for nine years. Shit. That worked out to half a ton of ordinance for every man, woman and child in the country. As the pilots were instructed not to bring back any B52s, those that weren't used on the enemy were dumped indiscriminately. The Air America pilots all based inside Laos wore no uniforms and didn't appear on US Government payrolls. Officially, they didn't exist.
The war was coordinated by the CIA from a headquarters near the Lao border in the Thai province of Udon Thani. In order to limit the influence of Laotian communists, the CIA had been shoring up a number of corrupt and inefficient Lao governments even long before the secret war began. The Royal Lao Army was funded almost entirely from Washington, and the capital, Vientiane, enjoyed an inflated war time economy that the rest of the country didn't get a share of. Vientiane in those days was a city of drugs and brothels and uncontrolled profiteering.
The Lao socialist movement, the Pathet Lao (PL), was largely a Vietnamese creation. It's senior members all had direct or familial connections to North Vietnam and were trained by the Viet Cong. But the Pathet Lao found sympathy and ready recruits to join its ranks among rural Lao families bombed for no damned reason by supposed allies.
Another reason for public interest was the royal presence of Prince Souphanouvong as a leading cadre of the Pathet Lao. The "Red Prince" had been converted to communism whilst working on the docks at Le Havre along with another convert, Ho Chi Mihn. While the Red Prince led communist troops in the North, his half brother, Prince Souvanahphouma (and you don't have to learn all these names) was heading various CIA puppet governments in Vientiane.
Because of a natural Lao reluctance to wage civil war against its brothers and sisters, the CIA was forced to recruit most of its ground troops from minority, Hmong villagers in the mountains. It was thanks to the Hmong the CIA was able to hold off the Vietnamese as long as they did.
There were still around 200,000 US troops in Vietnam as we entered 1971 (when Waldo and Saifon arrived in Bangkok). While Nixon refuted accusations that Laos and Cambodia had suffered incursions, there were constant US supported South Vietnam raids across both borders to hunt out Viet Cong bases. In February, a massive invasion of Laos was planned.
So you see when Waldo and Saifon arrived, they didn't know nothing about what was happening in Laos cause it was all a goddamn secret. (This is me speaking again by the way) Now you gotta hand it to them CIA guys, hiding a whole frigging war for nine years. It's hard enough hiding an illicit moonshine still in the woods. You'd think someone would of heard something wouldn't ya?
It sure didn't get to Waldo and Saifon's ears. They thought they was perfectly safe. They thought there was two fat ass countries between them and the war. But they was heading right for it. Exciting or what?
-o-
Saifon thought she was getting everything sorted out. She had this phone number you see. It'd been with her for fifteen years. When she first got away from the traffickers and she was being uncooperative with the social services, this woman come to see her.
They was looking for a place for Saifon to live. Some family dumb enough to take in a wildcat without no English. You can imagine folks like that weren't queuingaround the block.
So this Lao wife of someone important comes all the way from DC just to see her. She couldn't understand why. And this pretty old lady sits Saifon down and talks to her. She just talks. Don't ask no questions or nothing.
There'd been this interpreter come to see her before. He weren't that friendly and he asked all these direct questions she didn't feel like answering at the time. She didn't know where she was or why, so why should she answer questions? But this old bird didn't ask her nothing. She talked on about where they was, and what was happening there, and the price of milk, and all.
An hour she talked and no one's sure if it was because Saifon was afraid she wouldn't never stop talking, or if she just got ready, but she started talking back. Everyone was amazed. She didn't tell the pretty old lady what happened to her. No, she wasn't ready for that. But she talked a lot and it made her feel better. The woman never pushed. She told her if she was ready to talk about stuff she should give her a call. She wrote down her name and number in Washington. She wrote it in Lao and English and both of 'em was equally useless. Saifon couldn't read then.
-o-
Fourteen years passed before she was ready to talk. In them fourteen years she'd run away from a state home and three do-good church-going foster families, quit school, had a million jobs, and lived more on the street than under a roof.
She'd been raped, but she'd never whored. She had some damn fool notion inside herself that her body wasn't something for sale. Somewhere along the line she'd picked up dignity. It weren't the 'not living in cars or peeing in bushes' kind of dignity. It was the 'too proud to beg, too proud to sell your booty' kind.
God knows she could of bought herself out of her shitty life if her dignity hadn't stopped her. She saw other girls living okay by spreading their legs, but they looked kind'a naked to her, even when they was dressed in their expensive clothes. They didn't have no dignity and she did. If she lost that, she'd be frigging nothing.
So it was. After them tough fourteen years, once she'd decided to be Bat Woman and save the world, she phoned the number in Washington. It was the goddamned Lao Embassy compound. They told her the woman had left the States some ten years before. But after some very persuasive cussing, they hunted around and found a number for her. It was a number in Bangkok, which was odd, but better than nothing.
-o-
There in the reception of the Malaysia Hotel she'd phoned the number without a lot of hope in her heart. Old people got a nasty habit of dying. She was already old back then in New York. She would of been old plus by now.
But what do you know? This crunchy old voice answers the phone. The conversation went something like this:
"Hello?"
"Is that Mrs. Pornsawan?"
"Yes it is. Who's speaking please?" Saifon got kind'a choked up for a while. "Hello."
"Yeah. Well, you probably don't remember me, but my name's Saifon."
"Yes?"
"I met you fourteen years ago, in New York. I was about eight at the time and … you come from Washington to talk to me. You give me your number. I guess you don't remember."
"On the contrary. I remember you very well. You were giving the social services people a hard time. I believe you bit a nurse who was trying to test your blood." Saifon laughed.
"Yeah. That must of been me."
"And are you ready to talk to me yet?"
"If you got time to listen."