Bangkok Babylon. Jerry Hopkins

      “I have this determination and cheerfulness because the angel talked to me,” Villy told me some time later. “Just ten minutes before I saw Jeab the first time, the angel told me that I now will meet one girl I can stay together with. I wrote in my diary that she was the most bad girl in all Nana Plaza. But I loved her and I trusted the voice in my head, telling me not to be afraid.”

      The second day of Villy's visit to Nam Bua Daeng a small party was planned to formally introduce him to neighbors and family members; few of the latter lived nearby, or even often talked. (Another disturbing factor for Villy, after he and Jeab came to see us the previous evening, finding Lamyai's entire family–siblings, their kids, the lot–sitting in a big circle sharing a meal.) Lamyai and I arrived at Jeab's house at ten, dressed in expensive, tailored silk, appearing sartorially apart from but mixing easily with the other guests, few of whom even bothered to find a clean tee-shirt (one of which was emblazoned with Osama bin Laden's face). It was loud and chaotic and the storehouse of beer and whisky was rapidly depleted; Jeab dispatched someone to a nearby town for more and soon the men were pissing in the yard.