Advertisement

HIV-infected Thai boy, a victim of smuggling, is making strides physically and emotionally in his temporary U.S. home.

Their Year That Was

January 01, 2001|MARIA ELENA FERNANDEZ, TIMES STAFF WRITER

Got is here and there, at once, everywhere.

Jumping and running.


Advertisement

Singing and dancing.

Striking poses and laughing.

"He's just wild!" says Chutima Vucharatavintara, the gentle woman behind the transformation of this 3-year-old extrovert. "He's changed. He's different. I don't know, he's crazy!"

Vucharatavintara, 46, laughs, shakes her head, and lets her face drop in her hands. Her dismayed look seems to beg, "What have I done?"

Here's the answer: In eight months, Got--the HIV-infected Thai youngster smuggled into Los Angeles as a prop in an elaborate slave labor scheme--has grown almost 9 inches, gained 6 pounds, learned to count to 10 in English, and is no longer afraid of strangers.

That's a long way from the nights he spent in sleepless agony suffering from the chickenpox, high fevers and an ear infection after the plot--in which a man who rented him for $250 in Thailand to pose as his son as he attempted to smuggle his female companion into the United States--was thwarted by authorities at Los Angeles International Airport in April.

In an instant, Got, whose full name is Phanupong Khaisri, found himself at the center of an international struggle that some have compared to the Elian Gonzalez saga. The boy's right to stay in America has been championed by activists who contend it would be wrong to send him back to the place where his HIV-infected father committed suicide and his HIV-infected mother is a drug-addicted prostitute.

Fourteen days after his arrival at LAX, Got met Vucharatavintara, the selfless Thai community activist who continues to serve as his temporary guardian. Since then, the fearful, sick boy has grown in size and confidence. As his infections healed gradually, the nightmares that kept him up at night, causing him to wail and cry so loudly that neighbors called the police, also vanished.

"I remember those days," says Vucharatavintara's 17-year-old son, Tre. "It was horrible. Every day in the middle of the night, exactly at 3 a.m, he'd wake up crying and crying. I'd come downstairs and put him back to sleep."

Now, the boy who could not bear to be out of his caretaker's sight and recoiled when strangers approached, is the teacher's helper at his preschool. Got has learned to draw, paste and play board games, and loves tussling with Vucharatavintara's sons, Tre and Anya, 10, and with Jason Chantharasomphoch, a 15-month-old boy who frequently spends the night at the family's Highland Park home.

Los Angeles Times Articles
|