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

to appreciate my attempt to fit in and conform.
    I was to get a lot of early lessons in the customs and behaviour of others too. I walked along the busy street and spotted a family coming towards me. The husband was a huge man, Indian, with three chins and the body of a beached whale. He strode along, nose in the air, oblivious to his nearest and dearest tottering after him. His wife almost matched him in girth and I couldn’t help wondering about the possible size of their daily meals and the price of their grocery shopping. Three very young children ran to keep up with their mammoth parents. I got ready to smile dotingly at them but something terrible happened. The father began to make this awful hawking noise, preparing to either vomit or spit. I physically recoiled but couldn’t stop watching him. He hawked and hawked until he had collected every last drip of mucus from his vast interior and then he gathered himself to his full height and spat with considerable force. It landed on my left foot, which was only partially covered by my sandal. I screamed at the top of my lungs in horror and disgust. The entire family stared at me, shocked at my behaviour! I can laugh now, but I thought I was going to be sick right there in front of them. He never apologised or acknowledged his glob on my foot.
    In Asia this sort of expelling of unwanted body fluids is perfectly normal. It’s funny because in Thailand you can openly and diligently pick your nose and ears without bringing any attention on yourself, but just don’t put a toothpick to work in your mouth or you’ll upset your neighbours. A friend of mine who went to China told me about watching these gorgeous looking girls picking their noses and belching in public but they would never allow themselves to wear a skimpy bikini at the beach because it’s not suitable behaviour for a young lady! Then there’s Songkla in Thailand where the men walk around in their colourful sarongs that make it easy for them to answer the call of nature—honestly, they just lift their sarong and wee, no matter where they are or who is around them. Of course if a woman was to squat on the street she would be arrested. Typical!
    I rang my friend Ben’s phone number and was delighted when he answered. He thought that Pete was with me as the last time he saw us was when we were a loved-up couple enjoying the many sites of Sydney. I briefly summarised my life to date for him and he promptly invited me out to his house to have dinner with himself and his wife. Once again God was looking after me. Ben and his lovely wife, Esther, were thinking about moving to Penang; I couldn’t believe how serendipity was working for me. A bond was struck between us that day and we decided that not only would I move with them to Penang, but I would also move in with them to share the rent. Esther was gorgeous, with long, black hair, dark skin and always had a smile on her face. She made me feel right at home, with her generous, cheerful nature, and she also spoke very good English. They were hugely considerate people and mindful of the fact that I knew absolutely no one. The relief in my parents’ voices on my first phone call was huge.

    Penang, or the ‘Pearl of the Orient’, is the name of an island in the Straits of Malacca. It’s also a Malaysian state, located on the north-west coast of the Malaysian peninsular. It’s not very big—in fact it’s the second smallest state in Malaysia after Perlis. We rented a house in Penang. It was quite a large house which allowed us to sub-let rooms. For a while we had a Chinese girl, a secretary, sharing with us. When she moved on we had a fair few people come and go in her place. As a result the rent was very manageable, even affording us to share the expenses of a battered second-hand car. It was a good place to be thanks to the 2,000 Australian Air Force folk based and living in the area. The Aussies left in 1985 and the site in Butterworth is now home to the