Word: compounded
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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About a fifth of the land area of Vientiane is taken up by what is called the USAID compound-the center of operations for the United States Agency for International Dement in Laos. All American aid to Laos-military or otherwise-comes under the title of USAID, due to the 1962 Genva Agreement which forbids all foreign troops and all advisors, instructors, and foreign civilians "connected with the supply of war materials...
Even American culture is imported for the convenience of Americans in Laos. The theatre in the USAID compound shows movies nightly. I went one night to see Omar Sharif in "Che," which drew a rather large audience. Many chuckled knowingly towards the end of the film...
...protesters crying, "Welcome, brothers and sisters!" to one another. Said one prisoner, rubbing the tear gas from his eyes: "This isn't a jail! This is a goddam party!" So it seemed. Indeed, there was more petulance than anger. Moaned one youngster, as he was pulled into the compound: "I mean, I was going to be guilty, but they busted me before I even had a chance to do anything." Besides, it was difficult to get mad at guards who kept smiling and joking and in one instance, answered shouts of "Pig!" with "We don't like...
...carried on endless legal colloquies and insisted upon "noncooperation with the system," which meant rejecting food, water, blankets and tents. It also meant refusing to participate in the lengthy legal processing that began in the late afternoon. One of the hard-core-dubbed "Lin Piaoists" by someone within the compound -seemed a bit subdued when he realized what he had let himself in for. "If I don't sign the paper and be fingerprinted," he muttered, "I could be in here forever." A girl roamed through the crowded area crying, "New York region, where are you? Will someone please...
Darkness eventually shrouded the compound, and revolutionary noncooperation or not, the protesters began to protect themselves against the chill. Blankets were unfolded, and packing crates were broken up for firewood. The fervor of resistance seemed to relax, revealing a band of people who were young, tired and cold. A few tried a couple of verses of Viet Nam Rag, then retreated into subdued silence; hardly anyone knew the words. Then someone put a harmonica to his mouth, and soon they were singing, like so many Boy Scouts and Camp Fire Girls...