As
we did not want to arrive empty-handed we decided to purchase
cigarettes (Marlboro Reds). At the initial check-in you are required
to surrender cameras, cell phones, and just about everything else in
your pockets. Then it is a quick pat down body search followed by a
short stroll to a room containing a list of foreign inmates.
Malaysia, China, Holland, France, Germany, Poland, and even America
were represented. The various crimes included fraud, murder, rape,
immigration violations (passport, visa, etc.), and drugs.
Now
if you are thinking, ‘How bizarre!’, I assure you I was thinking
the same. I suppose there is something a bit surreal, if not
demented, about visiting a prison with a ‘tourist attraction’
mentality. I was ambivalent to say the least but the Brits I met in
Indonesia said the gentleman they spoke with was more than happy to
have the company for a short bit and was not at all put off by ‘human
zoo’ nature of the interaction. And when I saw that an American
woman had got herself into trouble as result of a ‘passport’
issue (no details provided) I thought it might be a good idea to
check on her status and see if she was ok.
So I separated from my co-conspirators and off to the woman’s prison I
went, located around the corner and down a short side road. I waited
outside the modest, if not dilapidated brick wall that served as the
gateway to the inside of the prison. The doorless brick entrance led
into the foyer containing the meeting area for civilians and
convicts. At the rear of this was a door leading to the incarceration
area. After a short wait I was led to the meeting area and ushered to
sit down. This ‘room’ was nothing more than bench style seats
constructed out of bricks facing each other. In the middle was a
brick partition about three feet high with a green iron fence filling
in the rest of the space to the ceiling. The fence was extremely
porous as the size of the space between links was more than big
enough to reach through. So I sat down and waited.
The
bench contained about ten people all scrunched together. On my right
was a Nepali woman and on my left two young children, female,
presumably waiting to speak with their mother (the woman who appeared
minutes later). As I sat there and watched the inmates interact with
the visitors (all Nepali at this point) I was struck by the thought
that if I did not know better it would be exceedingly difficult to
distinguish the cons from the civilians merely by focusing on either
side of the fence (no prison uniforms). Although the female inmates
were of varying ages (teens to upper fifties I believe) there was no
sense of desperation or despair in their faces. All of the
conversations could just as easily been carried out over a cup of tea
at a coffee shop, judging by the nonchalance present in the
atmosphere.
