Sigh... thanks, Brian! Can I join your Exasperated Posters Club, please? Shadow, regardless of your feelings, my feelings, or half the world's feelings, what can happen IN LAW - in Viet Nam as much as in Auchtermuchty - is driven by what's admissible and whether there's a case to prosecute. If the girls' families don't want anything more to do with the case, then the prosecutor can't bash on as if they did.
HT: you probably don't have to visit the places, Tomster. There's enough information out there via Google or even good old-fashioned newspapers and international magazines to inform anyone who's slightly concerned about such things. In many countries you will be offered the child of your choice, gender of your choice, and negotiate a price depending on the child's, er, 'freshness' or whether you want one more experienced. I know of both male and female English friends who've returned from visiting beautiful, exotic, palm-fringed islands in a state of fury, rather than the calm they'd been hoping for, because of the non-stop pestering by children or their teenage pimping brothers to enjoy 'massage', blow jobs or 'full sex'. When they've expressed their horror, the kids just giggle and then offer them cocaine or heroin instead.
I'd only been in India about two hours, on business, when a street hustler all of nine offered me a 'nice clean boy', followed by my decline of the kind offer with 'you want marijuana?' 'No, I don't smoke, sonny.' (Bemused expression - what? A foreigner who doesn't instantly want dope?) Next try: "Okay, okay, lady. No problem. You want cocaine? I get you cocaine, no problem." (Laughing refusal by me, trying to continue a pleasant evening walk.)
Last desperate try to score: "Okay, okay, okay - you want heroin? No problem! I get you good heroin. Maybe ten minutes, okay?" At that point, I said pleasantly but firmly I did not want a boy, clean or otherwise. I did not want any drugs, not even cigarettes. I just wanted him to go away and leave me alone. For good measure I bunged the waif 100 rupees and told him to get a meal. He looked at the money and shrugged. "Okay," he said, and wandered off. A few moments later, there was a tug at my arm. "I get you ice cream," he grinned, and gave me a cornet which I only hoped was not a hash special.