I’d expected Henry to be friendly like the others. But he was not. He refused to speak English through the interpreter. It felt odd to be conversing with him in Lao. He had a strong, confusing accent and wasn’t nearly as fluent as he thought he was. It shouldn’t have worried me. He was a foreigner who had gone to the trouble of learning my language, and he’d been through a horrific experience, but I felt uncomfortable with him. I didn’t want to dislike him, but I found it impossible to engage. And there were other things that worried me.

Despite the conditions he’d lived in for so long, he’d somehow avoided most of the parasites currently gorging on his countrymen. He’d had a bout of dengue some time back, and there was some liver damage that may have been a result of hepatitis, but apart from that he was in pretty good shape. He even had a belly.

“So what are you saying?” he asked.

“Just observations from the point of view of a doctor,” I said. “I’ve always been fascinated by how different people react to hostile environments. As a foreigner, you wouldn’t have any natural defenses against conditions in the jungle. Yet you’ve somehow been able to counter all the usual enemies of the human body. How did you fight off insects and treat their bites? How did you make sure the water you drank was decontaminated? How did you survive?”

My medical team sat around us in the cell obviously frustrated that they had no idea what was being said. I was already fond of Hung Lan—he’s probably a rich property tycoon by now—but I liked being free of my interpreter.

“You do know I don’t have to answer any of these questions?” said Henry.

“I know.”

“But I tell you, Older Brother, I earned the respect of those savages.”

I wasn’t that fond of being his older brother, and I wondered whether I’d be able to respect anyone who called me a savage. He launched off into a narrative I felt he’d practiced beforehand.