The Angel of Bang Kwang Prison by Susan Aldous, Nicola Pierce Page B

and learning. He was the one who had initiated the university course and now needed a teacher. I recruited two other women to help and we began teaching classes early in the morning, before the officers’ shift.
    It was a great experience for me, and it also got me my visa, which enabled me to stay and work in Thailand. In fact, on my first visit to the immigration office I was transported in a Tourist Police car, with two young guards in full uniform. I was in the back seat with two girlfriends; Renee, who would help deliver my baby a few years later, and Julie, who I had known in Australia. I had first met her when I was still a teenager, in the coffee shop of a Christian youth group. We all needed our visas stamped and were thrilled with our ride—more so when we realised that onlookers were staring aghast at us, obviously putting two and two together and thinking we had all been arrested.
    I wonder what they thought we had done, since the three of us looked so harmless and polite. It became more comical when we reached the immigration building and our stern young escorts walked us in past the other westerners who were filling out their forms in the crowded office. People either openly stared at us in pity or avoided our eyes in pity; meanwhile, we were being treated better than any of them there.
    After some years in Bangkok I was followed by the Secret Police—when they could keep up with me. I was a strange white face who was constantly on the move around the city, and seemed to spend a large amount of time popping into police stations. Was I a spy? Their attitude changed when they discovered that I was quite poor but genuinely happy to spend my day helping others. They called me into their headquarters to ask me if I would also teach them English in exchange for a donation for my purse.
    One of the police generals asked me for my help. He wanted to send his son to school in Australia but knew little about the schools available. I agreed to look into and make the required arrangements. Later that week, it just so happened that I had to run into the 5-star hotel, in Siam Square, to use its pristine bathroom. On my way out I spotted a familiar face in the lobby—Mr Ross, one of my teachers from the private school. I couldn’t believe it. It’s weird enough to see your teachers out in the real world when you’re a kid, and it’s definitely astonishing to be looking at one in a fancy hotel in Thailand.
    He smiled politely at me without recognising me but was obviously wondering why I was grinning insanely in his direction. His mouth dropped open when I introduced myself; I had been a right handful in his class and he had to battle me frequently over who was going to win the other students’ attention. I think part of his surprise was that one, I was still alive and two, I didn’t have as many facial piercings as I used to. He grabbed my hand warmly when I told him what I was doing with my life;
    ‘Oh my goodness! I’m actually dealing with a girl who reminds me of you. She called me the other day looking for help and I felt I had nothing to give her but now you are living proof that there is hope for her.’
    He told me that he was now the principal of a boarding school, just outside Melbourne.
    As we chatted, an idea formed in my head and I mentioned the General and his son. He gave me the registrar’s phone number and warned me to tell the General to act quickly as there were only a few places left for the next school term. We said our goodbyes and promised to keep in touch. The General had heard of the boarding school and had decided that it would be his first choice. It all worked out beautifully. We made the call and his son got the very last place in the school and at a reduced rate since we had rung the school directly.
    I quickly discovered that Thais prefer to know someone. My involvement and the fact that I knew the principal of the school made it a lot easier for the General to enrol his son in a