The Gift

Previously I mentioned the gift of my second pair of combat boots to my hooch boy Ra-Win. For several weeks thereafter he pleaded with me to come to his village stating that his father wanted to thank me for the gift to his son. It was simply not that easy to venture out into the local villages, but after a few weeks of continued requests I told him I would go the following Tuesday.

Somehow, I stumbled across another GI with access to a jeep we could "borrow" for a few hours through some arrangement he had made. So off we went in mid afternoon with Ra-win traveling a few miles through the jungle to a thousand years into the past.

When we arrived there was a great celebration "The Americans Were Coming!" yet it was simply two enlisted men in a jeep. A water buffalo was slaughtered; tied by it's feet over a huge tree limb with it's throat slit and beaten with stave's to tenderize the meat. The hot blood gushed from the throat and eyes plucked and placed in a bowl for immediate consumption by the honored guests. Such was life in "the land of the liver eaters" where a defeated enemies power was consumed as a tasty meal without onions. The water buffalo was raised off the ground so in the minds of the villagers they were not then required to pay a tax to the local government.

While the buffalo was cooking a Thai Boxing match had been arranged, with even an elevated ring constructed which the villagers sat on benches facing. I'd never seen a real match in the jungle villages before, but knew it was going to be unusual when the contestants wrapped rags around they upper part of their knees as well as their hands, poured on wax and broken glass.

After the first round, they were both pretty much of a mess from what we could see sitting in the front row and I had been waiting for a change to get a light for my butt from a Thai Tiger Soldier strutting about with his M-16 smoking. So when I went over he told me in broken English "You brave GI, many Thai communists here!" Looking around at the benches there were a hell of a lot of unfriendly faces; who were evidently not to happy with Ra-Win's father who it turned out was village Chief.

Ventured back to my seat and informed my buddy quietly about the real situation; stating "don't look now but were surrounded by a hell of a load of Thai Communists and the only thing keeping them from killing us is Ra-Win's father so what ever you do don't piss off the old man." So of course first thing my bud does is twist his head around looking at all the frowns behind him.

Well, the second round was about half way through at this point and the guy who had been loosing picked up and drove his opponent into the corner on our immediate right and pined him there driving his knees into his lungs. After a few more well placed kicks I figured he'd back off as it was evident when the guys eyes started to glaze over there was no contest. But he kept at him for at least another dozen finally backing away for him to fall face first gushing out a pool of bright red blood a yard square. They dragged his body off by the feet, there was no question he was dead. Killed for sport in celebration of the visitation of the Americans.

We ate in the Chief's hut, which as most Lao style houses was raised off the jungle floor about four feet to keep out the king cobras and various other dwellers in the area. The meal was a bit rough as no matter how small a piece of the ol water buffalo I munched there always seemed to be a bit of broken bone fragment in it. The booze with the local homemade hooch where they take rice and ferment it in handmade clay jars buried in the red dirt for a few months in a sunny location which turns to pretty strong hooch.

Dessert was even better. Little woven baskets of rice that had also been buried for some length of time; probably a few months from what I could get out of Ra-Win. They were about four inches across and four inches high. Popping off the cover, the consistency looked like a matted grey softball on the outside. The Chief dipped his fingers in and ripped off the hard outer shell so we did likewise. Inside it was white and sticky like wallpaper paste or Elmer's Glue but tasted sweet enough. Everyone ate it with the first two fingers of their right hand. I remember thinking if I don't get the shits now I never will. I never did.

Then we got down to the real nitty gritty. Seems the Chief liked me giving his son the boots well enough to figure I'd take care of one of his daughters also. So he announced the present and a cute young girl (looked maybe sixteen but probably older as Asian women look young for their age) stood up and opened her sarong so that only I could see her naked body. This is not a normal custom, and I knew it was to seal the deal without question. In Thai and Lao custom it is stricly forbidden to have any physical contact with the opposite sex never mind a full display of nudity. The old man was driving the deal home for his daugher whom he loved enough to give up
to have the opportunity to go to the land where the streets were paved with gold.

Ok, so now I had two questions to answer, one faster than the other. How do we get out of the village without being killed and how I get out of the village and leave the girl behind without the old man loosing face? If he lost face, we would have been killed on the spot. Better us than him and if a lot of the villagers wanted us dead anyway he could not allow us to live if he lost face, then he most likely would end up on the short end of any hopes for a long life never mind Chief.
On the other hand if I brought Ra-Win's sister out of the village and dropped her off somewhere she could never go back home to the village and I would have ruined her life.

Maybe it was the hooch, but I stayed calm and the answer came in a quick flash. Hell, the answer had to be quick anyway and I'm sure it was a stoke of luck else I'd not be writing this blog. I smiled and thanked the Chief very much for such a gift that he cherished so greatly and that I would be back for her as I had to prepare a place for her to sleep. This would be a normal response even in the villages as far as I could tell, or at least I was betting our lives on the fact it would be acceptable since it showed concern and respect for his daughter and his position.

We departed a few minutes later as night set thanking all the village elders for their hospitality and gifts smiling and waving good by as we slowly drove out into the jungle darkness. Once we were a hundred yards around the bend, we floored the jeep and beat it back to the base. Who knew the gift of a pair of boots would kill one man and almost two more? Life is uncertain.

Follow Up: For the past several visits back to Nakhon Phanom I have tried without success to locate Ra-Win and the same small village. There were so many in those days 40 years ago that were the same approximate distance from the base. Ra-Win is probably dead. He was most likely a Thai Communist or became one as so many did who lived in the area and if so would have participated in the 1976 uprising there which was put down by the Thai military and never much reached the world press shortly after the American presence departed. My best clue is the dessert which seems to have been a specialty of that village as it is unknown to Thai's at other villages in the area today.