Bar Girl (35 page)

The four bars supported the home. They made enough money to ensure it kept open whilst other funds were being sought.

Eventually the funds did start coming in. Money was donated, sometimes anonymously, sometimes amid a great fanfare of publicity. More and more money started reaching the home.

The rooms began to fill. Twelve girls became twenty, twenty became forty. They were given medical care and counselling. Education programs were made available to them. They were given food, clothing, a good bed and as much time as they needed to heal. That was the most important aspect of the home. The girls were allowed time. Time to recover. Time to step away from their lives. Time to think.

Before long the home had a steady stream of visitors. Teachers, who kindly offered a few hours of their week. Nurses and doctors who all gave their help free of charge. Sheets and blankets were donated. Soap, toothpaste, food. Everything the girls needed was made available.

Siswan was amazed at how many people were willing to help. How many people were willing to offer their support, both their time and their money. She was amazed at how many farangs wanted to help. Both those that lived locally and from overseas. It seemed that she had tapped into something she hadn’t expected. Something she didn’t even know existed. It was Mike who explained it to her.

‘You’ve pricked a conscience, Siswan. A huge conscience. Farangs have been coming here for years, decades even. They’ve all indulged. They’ve all been a part of a bar girl’s life at some time or another. Now they see a way of repaying. You’ve offered them a way to make retribution. A way to ease their guilt,’ he told her.

‘I didn’t set out to do that, Mike,’ she told him. ‘I just wanted to help.’

‘You are. You’re helping the girls and you’re helping the men who use them. Both sides win,’ he said.

Siswan received countless letters and emails from farangs who wanted to help. One letter summed up what Mike had told her. She had a copy printed and framed. She hung it in the foyer for all to see and read.

To Sood’s Home.

I served in the Army and was stationed in Asia for four years. I met a girl who worked in a bar when I was on a two week pass. She was a beautiful girl and her name was Lin. I was a young man then, and foolish. I spent the whole of my two weeks with Lin and she took care of me well. I gave her some money. It wasn’t a lot. Not compared to the money I earned at the time. I never saw her again.

I finished with the Army and returned home. I married a lovely lady and had three children who are all grown up and living their own lives.

I’m an old man now, and just as foolish. My wife died two years ago from cancer. I’ll be following her soon. I heard about your work from a magazine article and looked for more information on the internet.

You see, after all these years, I still remember Lin. I remember her smile and her laughter. I remember her long dark hair and how soft it felt. I remember how she took care of me. The little things she did. Things she didn’t need to do.

I loved my wife, and I believe I was a good husband and father, but I never did forget my little Asian bar girl.

I hope the enclosed helps you to take care of girls like my Lin.

Even the bar girls, themselves, helped. They started making small donations. They saw it as a good investment. If they were ever in trouble, they’d have somewhere to go, somebody to take care of them.

As those girls in the home became stronger, as they became well and fit, they were helped to find work. Many of them ended up working in one of the four bars owned by Mike. They were never expected to go with farangs. Were never expected to meet any bar fine allocations. They could earn enough to survive without taking any risks.

On a few occasions, the families of girls who had taken refuge, turned up to demand the return of their daughter. She hadn’t sent home any money. Her baby was starving. The bills needed to be paid. Siswan would arrange for the girl’s baby to be brought to the home. She would only concern herself with the welfare of the girl and her child. The rest of the family were told, in no uncertain terms, to find a job. Earn their own money.

If they became violent, the police were called. They always came. The home was too high profile to be ignored and anyway, Siswan was still a very good customer.

Eventually Siswan and Mike opened more homes in other towns. More centres to help bar girls in need. The donations poured in. Very often, the girls who had received help, were the ones that were employed in the centres.

When Mike died in his sleep, seven years after the formation of Baan Sood, there were twelve homes up and running. He and Siswan owned a total of sixteen bars that earned enough money to support the project. In his will he left all that he owned to Siswan and Apple with the proviso that they take care of Rican.

He had been like a father to Siswan. More than that. He had been a friend to her. She cried at his funeral. Not tears of sadness. Tears of joy that she should have met such a kind and selfless man.

Afterwards, after the guests had left, Siswan walked down to the beach alone. She sat on the sand where her and Karn had sat so many times before. She sat and said a silent farewell to the only man that she had truly loved.

She watched the waves. They kept rolling in. Kept rushing towards her. She knew now that they would never stop. She smiled as she watched their progress.

Her life had changed on the day of her twelfth birthday. She hadn’t chosen that change. Hadn’t asked for it. Where would she be now if her life had taken a different course? If Bak hadn’t touched her? If her father hadn’t beaten her mother? If her mother had been stronger? Would she be married now? With a child of her own? Would her husband beat her as her father had beaten her mother?

She didn’t know. She had walked away from her village as a young girl determined to take control of her own life. There was still so much to do. So many girls who needed help. Her and Apple were already looking at buying two homes upcountry. Homes that may prevent the girls from ever getting here.

She looked at the waves and allowed herself a small smile. All in all, she hadn’t done too badly. Not too badly at all…for a bar girl.