Bootlamfee

I’m sure I’ve written a few too many times that 2021 was the worst year of my adult life. Did I have harder years in childhood? It’s entirely possible.

Although I’ve mentioned obvious reasons for this, including but not limited to extreme financial stress, isolation due to facemask mandates, lack of ability to travel or even look for jobs due to both facemask and vaccine mandates, loss of income, loss of purpose and meaning, loss of standing in the community, et cetera, I’ve never mentioned a reason that might have been bigger than all of those combined. During the year of 2021 there was firsthand experience, for the first time in decades, with two different sexual assualts. Yep, here in Thailand.

So I want to talk about Bootlamfee.

I am spelling her name phoentically so as to somewhat obscure her identity. The name I just spelled is almost certainly close to her real name. She was a sassy six year old who was my daughter’s best friend who lived next door to our modest bungalow.

The girls decorated the well for Christmas of 2020

Because there was only 40 feet seperating the houses and no fencing or roads in between the two girls made a well worn path back and forth between them. Bootlamfee had two older brothers, one about my daughter’s age as the neighbor girl was almost two years younger than my girl and another who was an early teenager who I didn’t see very often. She had a good family who had a similar parenting style to my own which I suppose I would call cautiously optimistic. With lockdown looney Covid policies in 2021 in Thailand, the girls had little to do but play with each other.

Bootlamfee’s family was Muslim and they were keeping an eye on things, but after some months where it became clear to me from conversations with my daughter that they were a good family the leash stretched out further. They likewise allowed this and I took both girls with me to Nai Yang beach and on small shopping excursions to 7 Eleven and Tesco. I bought Christmas gifts for the children despite the family being Muslim and Bootlamfee seemed to be picking up English as quickly as my daughter was learning Thai.

The family set up a badminton net and often played the game around sunset, prompting my daughter to beg me to buy our own sets of rackets. I did so and we often played in front of our bungalow without a net.

One afternoon in late 2021 our friend Kuhn Chef dropped by with lots of alcohol. Another friend, Kuhn Saak, joined him and my husband out front drinking. As sometimes happens when a person shows up with lots of booze somewhere, a guy who was in the neighborhood saw the impromptu party and came over too. He was one of brother Tee’s friends, who wasn’t there at the time. I recognized his face but didn’t know his name and he hadn’t stopped by in months.

I was working on an edit for FactSet and couldn’t drink with them, so after a few minutes I went back inside to focus on my assignment. The four men chatted out front and I could tell were making fast work of downing the whiskey. My daughter and Bootlamfee came inside for a minute, then went back next door to play. I could tell my husband was getting pretty drunk.

From out the door I saw everybody get up and say their goodbyes and I waved goodbye as Kuhn Chef waved into the door. I heard the motorbikes fire up and drive away. My husband came inside to sleep it off as I tried to finish up my edit. From out the front door I could see that Bootlamfee and Eliza were now playing badminton by our house. Obscured by a very large termite mound, however, there was one guy who had not left.

Eliza ran into the bungalow some minutes later in a panic. “Mom! You gotta help! The man took Bootlamfee!”

What??? “Who took Bootlamfee?” I asked as I stood up.

“The guy! The one who was drinking with Kuhn Chef and Kuhn Saak! He was playing badminton with us!”

I was out of the bungalow by then and past the termite mound where I could see ominously the man’s orange Scoopy motorbike. Brother Tee’s friend had not left when the others had. “Where did he take her?” I questioned her.

“He kept on teasing her and then he just grabbed her and put his finger to his lips like be quiet and then he started carrying her to Na Loon’s!” My heart was starting to race over this as I began walking faster towards the abandoned house next door that Na Loon and her family had lived in prior to her death in December of 2020. As I came close to the second door I heard Bootlamfee saying “No! No!” from the other side. My heart clenched for the six year old as I flung the door open.

“What the fuck are you doing!” I boomed. The man was grinding the blessedly still clothed girl on his lap on the floor of the unfurnished house. He was still wearing shorts but it was clear that he was aroused by it. I grabbed the girl and weighed competing options. The man seemed shocked and was slow to react at first.

“Bootlamfee are you okay?” I said as I hugged her and Eliza did the same. The girl was sobbing quietly and I attended to her. I looked down seconds later and the man had disappeared. A few seconds later I heard his motorbike firing up as he blasted out of there at what sounded like an extremely high rate of speed.

I walked with Bootlamfee and my daughter to her parent’s house. I didn’t know what to say about this incident yet, as my Thai was poor and their English was nonexistent. I wondered if the six year old would say something herself.

“You were a hero Eliza for coming and telling me as quickly as you did.” I told my daughter.

“Really? I am?” She questioned me.

“Yes. If you ever see something like that, tell someone immediately. If somebody tries to grab you like that, kick and scream and fight back. Get attention. If you’d kept quiet it would have been a lot worse.”

“At first I just thought he was teasing her like he tried to do this tickle monster thing. But then he tried to pull her shirt way up and then he grabbed her and she started saying no. He just started carrying her away and he made this shush sign with his finger, like it was all funny.” My daughter told me. Horrifically I could see how if Eliza assumed this man was a long time friend or family of Bootlamfee’s, she might have gotten the impression that it was some silly game. Eliza could well have come into the bungalow and logged into Minecraft in silence as I assumed that her best friend had gone home for the night. I didn’t even want to think about that scenario.

I squeezed my daughter’s hand in relief. “You were really brave. Don’t ever forget it.”

The sun had set by that point. I walked to the local shop and bought a beer and on the way back listened inside the neighbor’s house. I could hear Bootlamfee talking to her mother, but it sounded like a mundane conversation about being hungry. I was trying to figure out what to do next when the Gods smiled on me. Mr. Nathan, our dual Thai-Scottish friend, who also happened to be fluent of course in both Thai and English, pulled up to our bungalow on his motorbike.

“A situation came up with Bootlamfee tonight” I told him as my husband woke up and came out front. I explained exactly what had happened as I wrote it in this Substack. Sometimes Ka asked questions and Nathan translated, getting everybody up to speed.

“I think we need to tell Bootlamfee’s father.” Mr. Nathan weighed in after I explained. I agreed and we went next door where it was explained to the parents. Bootlamfee peeked out from the bedroom with her eyes wide as Mr. Nathan and her father were talking. The six year old looked like she was afraid that she had done something very very bad and my heart broke for her.

“I have no idea who this guy was.” I lamented when we came back to the bungalow. “I don’t even have a Thai nickname on him, but I do recognize his face.” Even Ka didn’t know and simply referred to him as “Kuhn Tee friend.” I’d seen him in the area and he sometimes came over when brother Tee had been around but he hadn’t stopped over in months. I didn’t know him.

“No worry about that.” Mr. Nathan said. “We told the family what happened. Up to them what they do now.” I could agree there. “Cheers.” He raised his whiskey glass.

The Thai police came to our house to take a report that night. By then Nathan was gone and both me and Ka had been drinking, so it probaby wasn’t the best time. The next morning the military came. They wanted a re enactment of what had happened. I walked them through the whole thing with Bootlamfee and Eliza. Ka translated sometimes and he pushed back against their request for him to wear a facemask, but they took a picture of us without him. Somewhere out there almost certainly in Thai language is the only published photo of me wearing a facemask, albeit under my nose. I had less push back than normal to this request because I felt that Bootlamfee, as a child victim, should have her face obscured. They wanted a lot of information on the orange Scoopy motorbike. They had a manhunt underway for the perp.

Some months later Mr. Nathan updated me regarding that. “They found him. He got sent to prison for a very long time.”

“Good.” I said. I think the people in Thailand, from Bootlamfee’s parents to the police and military, handled the case very well. I may well see whiter shades of gray regarding a 16 year old and an 18 year old engaging in consensual sex, but a 40 ish year old man dragging a 6 year old girl into an abandoned house is about as black and white as it gets. It’s every parent’s nightmare. I think most parents in America think this is how it usually happens.

“I’m sure some defense attorney could argue that the guy didn’t really do anything that terrible.” I told my older daughter Jasmine. “I mean he hadn’t. Yet.” There is a good chance that Bootlamfee may not even remember this event, but I’d guess it would seep into her subconscious to create a healthy skepticism about strangers and perhaps an unwillingness to wander off alone. Both of these are protective.

“I don’t think a defense attorney would argue that he didn’t mean to do it. I think he’d argue that there’s no physical evidence.” My older daughter quipped back.

“That’s an interesting take on it Jasmine. Then again there was no physical evidence, hence why they did the re enactment with witnesses. So us three witnesses, a six year old, an eight year old and a farang woman just made up this story?”

“Well I mean maybe you just didn’t like that guy.” My older daughter quipped. “And kids, you know, they can make up crazy stories.” It’s sad how easy it is to discredit children. They’re terrible liars at young ages. Yet for some reason we believe politicians and the rich and powerful.

“I didn’t even know that guy.” I explained back. I certainly had no ax to grind. “I never saw the case either. With his age he might have had some sexual complaints in his past too. I think it’s good he went to jail.”

“I agree.” Jasmine finished with. She was just playing Devil’s advocate as usual.

“Do you really think I’m a hero for telling you what happened?” Eliza asked me some months later. My younger girl needed reassurance.

“Elizabeth you were a total hero. You might have even saved Bootlamfee’s life.” I told her back.

“Really?” I’d played the scenario through my head and thought about what this man would have done if he was faced with a sobbing child after he was finished. He’d know the girl would likely talk and in his altered state, might he have thought that conveniently disposing of her was the better option? Perhaps Bootlamfee had wandered off after playing badminton. Maybe a cobra had struck her. I shuddered to even think about it.

“Yes.” I hugged my daughter.

“But then why did Bootlamfee have to go away?” My daughter sobbed to me. The family had moved just a few months after this incident. I couldn’t blame them. There was a guilt by association too. Eliza had saved her best friend. And then, likely because of what happened, she lost her.

I have not seen the movie Sound of Freedom. I think this is a very important discussion to have regarding child sexual trafficking. I do wonder, however, what became of the children after they were rescued. Were efforts made to find their parents, or were they put into the care of shelters, trauma centers and group homes? Any children victims of this have a high chance of being revictimized later. They also might go in voluntarily at later ages if they feel they have no other economic options.

My biggest concern about the film is that it leads to a call for more money for the very predatory organizations that are doing the trafficking. In the US the biggest one statistically speaking is foster care.

“They did a study some years ago Jasmine on kids put in foster care versus kids left with their biological families.” I told my daughter. “And before you think that’s not apples to apples, because those kids in foster care had negligent parents under investigation, it was apples to apples. Due to overcrowding or lack of available foster parents or something, they randomly assigned some kids whose families were under investigation to get taken out, while some other families under investigation were left together. The results were horrific across the scale for foster care. These kids were like six times more likely to be sexually assaulted and five times more likely to die in foster care. Only 3% graduated from college, compared to 33% of the population at the time, and a majority had contact with the criminal justice system. A lot of kids also went missing.” Supposedly a child in the US foster care system is worth one million dollars to the state if removed from the parent.

Families are not perfect. But I think it’s well past time we stop looking at the alternatives as happily ever after situations. This isn’t a movie for these kids. It’s the rest of their lives.

So why does all of the money flow to breaking up blood ties in the USA?

Buy me a ko-fi