By Sandra Gregory
Following years of dwelling out of the country in Thailand, Sandra Gregory without notice turned desperately sick and as her clinical debts started to mount, her checking account diminished. In alternate for $2,000 she agreed to hold 89 grams of heroin to Tokyo for a pal, yet sooner than she even boarded the aircraft she used to be stuck via Bangkok Airport safeguard and finally sentenced to twenty-five years contained in the notorious Lard Yao criminal. during this stunning account, Sandra information the 4 and a part years she spent in Thai felony and describes scenes of awful brutality and ache. She tells of her day-by-day struggle for survival, of the various girls who died without therapy or household round them, and of her attractiveness of her guilt and supreme redemption. Amidst the ache and torture, this sincere recollection exhibits how Sandra fought for survival, and prevailed.
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Extra resources for Forget You Had a Daughter: Doing Time in the 'Bangkok Hilton'
No,’ she said,‘go to Wisid’s in Chiang Rai. ’ Chiang Rai was roughly a 15-hour journey north of Bangkok and Wisid’s is situated in the province of northern Thailand, bordering Laos and Burma. I was sure there would be elephants, jungles and tigers. The little town I was entering lurched precariously close to being ancient. A flash of dirt slipped past as he hauled us along the bumpy roads and I felt guilty watching the muscles of the old man’s neck and back rippling against his soaking T-shirt.
Up in the mountains there were no radios, televisions, telephones or newspapers. All over the UK people were getting up in the morning hating their work and their life. Not me. I was in heaven. Unless we were out in the forest my diet consisted of mounds of heavy rice, a few leaves sprinkled on top and a thick, red-hot chilli paste, three times a day. In the forest the children would pluck fat insects and caterpillars from tree bark and pop them in their mouths. Standing there, with their fat little stomachs, they would point out to me which were good to eat and which ones best avoided.
The chainsaw-like drone of the traffic grew louder. The heat penetrated my skin. An old man – his hands fat and plump, like overripe bananas – waddled under the weight of a heavy load. Steam erupted from pots cooking on charcoal fires and glass cases held noodles of all shapes and sizes. Bangkok was hot, mercilessly so, chaotic, exotic and slightly uneasy. I was drawn to it like a pretty pink moth. John was still a problem. The doubts I had on the flight over seemed to multiply by the time we left the airport.