Archive for March, 2012

THE CROSSROAD: Where Cultures And Traditions Clashes.

Posted in Uncategorized on March 25, 2012 by doingtimeabroad

This was meant to go on my twitter time-line, but gotten enough words to get on my blog. Why not wash our dirty laundries so others will know how our bitter-sweet lives are lived in misery and in harmony. It’s a psychological dynamics how there could be togetherness in diversity. Hope the outsiders will see the world of foreigners locked up in a foreign country and how cultures clashes on the crossroads of our lives.

The young lads (when I say young, they ain’t teenagers, but grown-ass men, but with smallish body and stunt-cognitive development); Imagine men in their late 20’s who giggles and smile when watching cartoons, not the likes of “The Simpsons, Family Guy, American Dad or South Park” but the likes of Dora, pokemon and those Japanese dragon kiddies cartoons. These lads could sit all morning and watch, enjoy these stuffs.

Once you’ve seen that, then you know how developed their thinking factor are, lack cognitive skills of any sort. These are the ones laughing at my sick mate; they are from the part of the world where no one cares about the next man; not even their Government cares about their welfare. The lad is sick and the best that can be given to him is silence as noises also affects him.

He comes to me, because he wants someone who understands him and I’m beginning to get into his world; a world of illusions. Many so-called normal ones among us are like him, they are on the threshold of theirs. Sooner or later the authorities will be dealing with everyday incident of mental and nervous breakdowns among inmates. His, is so pronounced and has passed his threshold, though I can’t tell what level of mental deterioration he has now. When he was talking; he pride himself as having done time back home. He, like many others from these part of the world sees incarceration as something one could be proud of; having done time is like adding a medal to one’s life of crime, an achievement!

He felt that way, but the toll of all those years of isolation and not doing anything positive to keep his brain working and productive is now telling on him and others like him here.

Walk along the passage, one is likely going to bump into someone standing in the passage lost in his thought or gone in his walkabout Greek; same in my cell, the little passage has to be open all time, but my mates will be standing and lost in their LaLa world; losing all consciousness of their surrounding. I have never had any reasonable conversation with many here; except the few whom I relate with, my fellow bloggers and others who are ready to learn and improve on the lives.

These ones who see us differently feels threatened by our lifestyles; why so many books, why do you have to workout everyday, why this, why that! And damn difficult to explain things to them as they all grew up in a backyard culture and tradition which sees modern life differently and can’t flippin understand; someone who can’t figure out sizes of their eating bowls and stack them probably, can reasonably do anything. And that’s why, the whole bunch are always heading on one direction and it all leads to the Slammer.

The situation with my compatriot is not good at all; he has hit the crossroad or the intersection! Doubt if he will be redeemed, but I have faith, that it can be controlled.

The vegetables he got this morning; I’m taking it on my bill, he was seen eating the vegetables with Cockroaches at the corner where my cats sleeps. An inmates from our former colony who speaks same language with us and who has been of help; met him in his bed eating tiny roaches. Well, we’ve heard of the Chinese eating anything that crawls, walk and run. Bet ya, even the Mings will be flippin scare of roaches. If they were good; I should be feasting on the millions arnd my bunk. Seen so many scary blonde (albino) roaches, looks beautiful but also scary!

I made pancakes and asked him to get his dish/plate, first came with what he had his roaches with the vegetables, told him to get another. He came back with a bigger bowl but one that made me have a million thoughts about his condition; he probably picked the bowl from the bin and for several days now, he hasn’t had his bathe; stinks and repulsive. People are telling me to tell him to go have his bathe; how can I do that?

Despite being from the same country, he’s from the islands and got many of his people here; who used to smoke and wined with him. So pathetic, now that he needs them most, they ain’t to be seen. Such is life; when the going is good and rosy, mucho amigos to help squander, but when tough times comes, where be them jolly good friends who were part of one’s gay days?

If he recovers, doubt if he will remember any of these! Such an experience is not worth remembering. But now, I’m made to wonder, if the authorities back home knew of this lad condition: why was he released? He could have been locked up indefinitely or even when released, refused to be issued travelling documents so he wouldn’t be able to leave the country. Well, some of the bureaucracy in The West; they won’t want to spend and keep him. But then, he becomes a danger to the general public and his family, as he needs constant care and attention.

He came to the wrong country; Panama. They don’t have anything to help him. I met one in renacer who swims on bare concrete floor and walks around with blocks of stones tied to his head; he snapped after he newly married wife back home in Guatemala called and gave him the dreadful news: No More! That sent the lad off and he never came back from his walkabout!

My compatriot is having it, talking to himself and talking on the phone to no one in particular; checked his phone, no calls were placed, but the phone is constantly on his ear and sparing in the gym alone (shadow boxing); just found out from his cell mate that none slept in his cell as he was busy working out and running on the top of the cell. He’s uncle is apparently having his nap as he has to keep vigil on him all night.

Guess, because of him, not too many want to sit outside at night; fear of being jumped on. There is a Mexican who thought he was crazy, especially when having his cold-turkey; he will banged his head on the wall and is sometimes seen wailing and crying. He will do anything to get his dopes. There are more like him on their thresholds, sooner or later when the unheard music plays; we will see them dance.

His uncle just got in, told me how he stayed up night to keep watch over him, he’s weary and worn out; hope our government back won’t take kudos in the demise of a uncle and his nephew in panama jail. He said, the lad threatened his with a metal which he has in his pants. Many wants him taken away. His uncle is scared that he may hurt himself or someone; heard he tried hanging himself. He’s probably getting to the end of his journey.

Since, there is no much to laugh at, the lads want him to be their clown; over heard someone calling him “Payaso”; A Clown! Everything he does has become an something to entertain their miserable lives; forgetting that, someone’s dad is on the road to Oblivion! His kids, his generous and numerous women will dearly missed him. Hope he gets help and as soon as possible.

Life goes on in the centre as the other man’s business is not your business. One of the hardknock drunkard; he brews and consumes his products more than what he sells. Got bashed on his faced by his drinking mate; his left eye is closed for repairs. That doesn’t stop him from drinking, he offered my some when I saw him, hell NO! He walks around with a bottle of Moonshine all day; sipping like we do with water in the gym. One can see the toll the potent stuff is doing to his body; look worn-out with sagging eyes. Hope he survives the demons of the bottle.

It’s 18:06:34 on Sun, Mar 25, 2012; life goes on and no one gives a sh*t about the others, as long as the music plays, moonshine are poured, the smoke of joints fills the air and the hardcore draw their lines of Angel dust; what else can a man locked up do to be happy. And finally, those with soft spot for the other, will wind down with shoving and blowing and helping each other attain their desired state of ecstacy; their ain’t bad as they won’t hurt no one when high unlike the binged drunkards and addicts. Until recently, when a jealous lover killed another in pavilion 2; where all the panamanian gays, transexuals and whatever some calls themselves are house. Apparently, any visitor or new inmates will be smiling thinking he will be spending time close to some lonely ladies slammed up from men on seeing their strings, tangas, tongs, bikinis and lingerie hanging outside the pavilion. Not until you see them out on the patio, then will they realised that they’re dealing with some freak show casts; as some of them look so horrid! Most of the old lads ain’t edgy about seeing their tits as we pride ourselves as the proud owners of the biggest set of tits in the centre; courtesy of our Shemale pal;-) she keeps the lads in order! Even the haters occasionally steal a look at her tits with hidden grinning;-)

Water crisis! Back again and this time back for good! Water is been rationed, glad I have enough containers for storage but ain’t enough; my consul helped us with bigger tanks. But my mates ain’t ready to buy what we need to get it fixed. Hope to set it up soon, but rather hope to leave here. Till then, it is “Aluta Continua”

One of my little cat is pregnant, been searching online to see what I need do; but I believe she was raped and abused by the stray white cat who kept sneaking in and raped them; they fight him off, but he succeeded in getting one pregnant, he is a beautiful white cat and two different colours of eyes; an albino!

My fears for the animals remains as many inmates are using rat poisons in their cells, and the cats end up eating poisoned rat and many dies from that. Lost my precious cats to the poisons. Can’t tell if people deliberately poisoned them as many loathes the cats.

I rather watch over my back and protect myself first, but my hearts are with those little felines.

All said and done, our short weekend came and gone with not so much an incident, except my compatriot who is keeping many on the edge as attitude is unpredictable; after threatening his uncle. Hope help comes to him before time runs out on him and before the inmates get wary of his antics.

Finally; we have a new member to our growing number of pavilion6 family; A Canadian (Apparently, I have a Canadian mate; an old architect whose lawyers and wife drove him to the path that lead him here; he’s a nice fella) who has been on the run from Canada since 1999, where is wanted for 23 Murders. So far, he’s holding the record for being the meanest inmate here with such number as a prefix to his name. When the news came up on the news; I sat up to see his face and it is the same dude; Hell’s Angel, with Vikings Tattoos all over his body and shaven head with a true Viking Beard; flippin lunatic thinks he’s a Viking. He should be happy he wasn’t from George Bush country; he would’ve been gassed or electrocuted, given a Hot Chair! Since he came in, there’s been mood changes among inmates, many doesn’t want him around. I wouldn’t mind an interview with a mass murderer; ain’t talking abt GB or Bashir and Assad of Syria but the one right under my nose. Would love to walk his line and mind. Will give a try!

Will be Posting Sights of our lives Behindbars!!!

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THE CROSSROAD: Where Cultures And Traditions Clashes.

Posted in Uncategorized on March 25, 2012 by doingtimeabroad

This was meant to go on my twitter time-line, but gotten enough words to get on my blog. Why not wash our dirty laundries so others will know how our bitter-sweet lives are lived in misery and in harmony. It’s a psychological dynamics how there could be togetherness in diversity. Hope the outsiders will see the world of foreigners locked up in a foreign country and how cultures clashes on the crossroads of our lives.

The young lads (when I say young, they ain’t teenagers, but grown-ass men, but with smallish body and stunt-cognitive development); Imagine men in their late 20’s who giggles and smile when watching cartoons, not the likes of “The Simpsons, Family Guy, American Dad or South Park” but the likes of Dora, pokemon and those Japanese dragon kiddies cartoons. These lads could sit all morning and watch, enjoy these stuffs.

Once you’ve seen that, then you know how developed their thinking factor are, lack cognitive skills of any sort. These are the ones laughing at my sick mate; they are from the part of the world where no one cares about the next man; not even their Government cares about their welfare. The lad is sick and the best that can be given to him is silence as noises also affects him.

He comes to me, because he wants someone who understands him and I’m beginning to get into his world; a world of illusions. Many so-called normal ones among us are like him, they are on the threshold of theirs. Sooner or later the authorities will be dealing with everyday incident of mental and nervous breakdowns among inmates. His, is so pronounced and has passed his threshold, though I can’t tell what level of mental deterioration he has now. When he was talking; he pride himself as having done time back home. He, like many others from these part of the world sees incarceration as something one could be proud of; having done time is like adding a medal to one’s life of crime, an achievement!

He felt that way, but the toll of all those years of isolation and not doing anything positive to keep his brain working and productive is now telling on him and others like him here.

Walk along the passage, one is likely going to bump into someone standing in the passage lost in his thought or gone in his walkabout Greek; same in my cell, the little passage has to be open all time, but my mates will be standing and lost in their LaLa world; losing all consciousness of their surrounding. I have never had any reasonable conversation with many here; except the few whom I relate with, my fellow bloggers and others who are ready to learn and improve on the lives.

These ones who see us differently feels threatened by our lifestyles; why so many books, why do you have to workout everyday, why this, why that! And damn difficult to explain things to them as they all grew up in a backyard culture and tradition which sees modern life differently and can’t flippin understand; someone who can’t figure out sizes of their eating bowls and stack them probably, can reasonably do anything. And that’s why, the whole bunch are always heading on one direction and it all leads to the Slammer.

The situation with my compatriot is not good at all; he has hit the crossroad or the intersection! Doubt if he will be redeemed, but I have faith, that it can be controlled.

The vegetables he got this morning; I’m taking it on my bill, he was seen eating the vegetables with Cockroaches at the corner where my cats sleeps. An inmates from our former colony who speaks same language with us and who has been of help; met him in his bed eating tiny roaches. Well, we’ve heard of the Chinese eating anything that crawls, walk and run. Bet ya, even the Mings will be flippin scare of roaches. If they were good; I should be feasting on the millions arnd my bunk. Seen so many scary blonde (albino) roaches, looks beautiful but also scary!

I made pancakes and asked him to get his dish/plate, first came with what he had his roaches with the vegetables, told him to get another. He came back with a bigger bowl but one that made me have a million thoughts about his condition; he probably picked the bowl from the bin and for several days now, he hasn’t had his bathe; stinks and repulsive. People are telling me to tell him to go have his bathe; how can I do that?

Despite being from the same country, he’s from the islands and got many of his people here; who used to smoke and wined with him. So pathetic, now that he needs them most, they ain’t to be seen. Such is life; when the going is good and rosy, mucho amigos to help squander, but when tough times comes, where be them jolly good friends who were part of one’s gay days?

If he recovers, doubt if he will remember any of these! Such an experience is not worth remembering. But now, I’m made to wonder, if the authorities back home knew of this lad condition: why was he released? He could have been locked up indefinitely or even when released, refused to be issued travelling documents so he wouldn’t be able to leave the country. Well, some of the bureaucracy in The West; they won’t want to spend and keep him. But then, he becomes a danger to the general public and his family, as he needs constant care and attention.

He came to the wrong country; Panama. They don’t have anything to help him. I met one in renacer who swims on bare concrete floor and walks around with blocks of stones tied to his head; he snapped after he newly married wife back home in Guatemala called and gave him the dreadful news: No More! That sent the lad off and he never came back from his walkabout!

My compatriot is having it, talking to himself and talking on the phone to no one in particular; checked his phone, no calls were placed, but the phone is constantly on his ear and sparing in the gym alone (shadow boxing); just found out from his cell mate that none slept in his cell as he was busy working out and running on the top of the cell. He’s uncle is apparently having his nap as he has to keep vigil on him all night.

Guess, because of him, not too many want to sit outside at night; fear of being jumped on. There is a Mexican who thought he was crazy, especially when having his cold-turkey; he will banged his head on the wall and is sometimes seen wailing and crying. He will do anything to get his dopes. There are more like him on their thresholds, sooner or later when the unheard music plays; we will see them dance.

His uncle just got in, told me how he stayed up night to keep watch over him, he’s weary and worn out; hope our government back won’t take kudos in the demise of a uncle and his nephew in panama jail. He said, the lad threatened his with a metal which he has in his pants. Many wants him taken away. His uncle is scared that he may hurt himself or someone; heard he tried hanging himself. He’s probably getting to the end of his journey.

Since, there is no much to laugh at, the lads want him to be their clown; over heard someone calling him “Payaso”; A Clown! Everything he does has become an something to entertain their miserable lives; forgetting that, someone’s dad is on the road to Oblivion! His kids, his generous and numerous women will dearly missed him. Hope he gets help and as soon as possible.

Life goes on in the centre as the other man’s business is not your business. One of the hardknock drunkard; he brews and consumes his products more than what he sells. Got bashed on his faced by his drinking mate; his left eye is closed for repairs. That doesn’t stop him from drinking, he offered my some when I saw him, hell NO! He walks around with a bottle of Moonshine all day; sipping like we do with water in the gym. One can see the toll the potent stuff is doing to his body; look worn-out with sagging eyes. Hope he survives the demons of the bottle.

It’s 18:06:34 on Sun, Mar 25, 2012; life goes on and no one gives a sh*t about the others, as long as the music plays, moonshine are poured, the smoke of joints fills the air and the hardcore draw their lines of Angel dust; what else can a man locked up do to be happy. And finally, those with soft spot for the other, will wind down with shoving and blowing and helping each other attain their desired state of ecstacy; their ain’t bad as they won’t hurt no one when high unlike the binged drunkards and addicts. Until recently, when a jealous lover killed another in pavilion 2; where all the panamanian gays, transexuals and whatever some calls themselves are house. Apparently, any visitor or new inmates will be smiling thinking he will be spending time close to some lonely ladies slammed up from men on seeing their strings, tangas, tongs, bikinis and lingerie hanging outside the pavilion. Not until you see them out on the patio, then will they realised that they’re dealing with some freak show casts; as some of them look so horrid! Most of the old lads ain’t edgy about seeing their tits as we pride ourselves as the proud owners of the biggest set of tits in the centre; courtesy of our Shemale pal;-) she keeps the lads in order! Even the haters occasionally steal a look at her tits with hidden grinning;-)

Water crisis! Back again and this time back for good! Water is been rationed, glad I have enough containers for storage but ain’t enough; my consul helped us with bigger tanks. But my mates ain’t ready to buy what we need to get it fixed. Hope to set it up soon, but rather hope to leave here. Till then, it is “Aluta Continua”

One of my little cat is pregnant, been searching online to see what I need do; but I believe she was raped and abused by the stray white cat who kept sneaking in and raped them; they fight him off, but he succeeded in getting one pregnant, he is a beautiful white cat and two different colours of eyes; an albino!

My fears for the animals remains as many inmates are using rat poisons in their cells, and the cats end up eating poisoned rat and many dies from that. Lost my precious cats to the poisons. Can’t tell if people deliberately poisoned them as many loathes the cats.

I rather watch over my back and protect myself first, but my hearts are with those little felines.

All said and done, our short weekend came and gone with not so much an incident, except my compatriot who is keeping many on the edge as attitude is unpredictable; after threatening his uncle. Hope help comes to him before time runs out on him and before the inmates get wary of his antics.

Finally; we have a new member to our growing number of pavilion6 family; A Canadian (Apparently, I have a Canadian mate; an old architect whose lawyers and wife drove him to the path that lead him here; he’s a nice fella) who has been on the run from Canada since 1999, where is wanted for 23 Murders. So far, he’s holding the record for being the meanest inmate here with such number as a prefix to his name. When the news came up on the news; I sat up to see his face and it is the same dude; Hell’s Angel, with Vikings Tattoos all over his body and shaven head with a true Viking Beard; flippin lunatic thinks he’s a Viking. He should be happy he wasn’t from George Bush country; he would’ve been gassed or electrocuted, given a Hot Chair! Since he came in, there’s been mood changes among inmates, many doesn’t want him around. I wouldn’t mind an interview with a mass murderer; ain’t talking abt GB or Bashir and Assad of Syria but the one right under my nose. Would love to walk his line and mind. Will give a try!

Will be Posting Sights of our lives Behindbars!!!

Life Behind Bars; Tales Of The Unexpected.

Posted in Uncategorized on March 16, 2012 by doingtimeabroad

Tuesday, 13th March; The signal is frustrating, seated at the wailing wall; yet nothing is happening. Need answers to signal’s prayer, for a while, the wall was the only place one can get a good reception. Hope the wall has not been polluted by the immorality of the dark-side that lurks around at night in form of inmates shoving and piping;-)

The pain of life behind bars is lifted and gone once a cop or warden walks to the door with a notice of release; all one hears is “Your name + Libertad”, at that moment you know part of your ordeals is over, ain’t over till you have been duly signed out, a process which office bureaucracy can send you back to the cell for days or weeks; for released documents to be signed, you could be asked to pay and if you don’t, then get ready to spend extra days.

When they want to throw one’s ass into their cells, it doesn’t matter what day of the week; but once your time is done, you get all sorts of bullocks excuses; holidays, weekend, the one to sign your papers is sick; flippin should die off. Such is our life and fate in the hands of men and women who should be on the other side of the bars as well to know how not to play games with one’s life.

Monday 12th March, 3 Colombians left of repatriation, no matter what their fate or what awaits them back home, they are more than happy to leave here. As the agreement with Colombia is; they have to do half of their sentences here before being repatriated. Many ends up doing 6 or more months due to office bureaucracy. Its beggars belief how they toy with human’s life.

Today, the 13th saw the released of an African, whom would’ve done his full time as his country had no repatriation treaty with Panama; the fact that he lives here gave him an edge as he knew what to do to get things moving. I’m so happy for him, at a point, I thought more about him than my predicament.

Once released, many do come around again, maybe the love of this place brings them back again, of they just couldn’t fit into the-supposed normal world.

Through my bitter experience here, I will surmised that;

It’s impossible to make the same “mistake” twice. The second time, it’s called a decision.

So whoever decides to come back here probably made that decision himself and without any assistance!

Everyday comes with its problem and sometimes mucho of it! But glad for strength to go through each day.

Behind bars; one lives each day at a time, every second, minute, hour all counts and once you make it through the day; grateful for that day.

We’re like timed-bomb waiting to explode, so any external stimuli can set one off and it’s a big Kaaaaaabooooooooosh with mushroom room clouds.;-)

So far, so good, the lads are jolly-good fellas, cheap fags (since fags became legal), moonshine to keep us going, weed and dope; the live-wire of every prison. And the king of all; our Smarter than most inmates “Smartphones”; communication is a very vital part of our lives as it helps many of us from distant lands. The phones are the only source of information, news and update of what is happening on the outside; that’s for those of us who are bothered to check daily news and know what to do with ’em too “Smartphones”. My cellmates whose got some, sometimes get so frustrated as they can’t figure out how to get ’em working; when I say working, I literally meant; download Porn, look for women online, those are the two major uses of our Smartphones. Isn’t it nice?

My cellmates only watches the panamanian national news to know how many have “fallen”, not to know what is happening in the parliament, not even in their home country. They check for faces of the fallen and how many keys or Tons were seized and the type of Lancha (speedboat) used; how powerful and the horsepower. All these will be the talk of the day and days to come, until another breaking news (thanks to panama who pride themselves in airing every caught traffickers, they so love it; breaking news for that).

They will also be waiting for the freshers to come. If they know any faces, calls are made to make sure they are brought to our pavilion. I’m left to wonder where they will fit in as we are full; soon we will be walking among each others.

I’m beginning to feel the encroachment in my cell as more and more troops in every morning to indulge in idle talks about whose missus is banging who and nothing of important or interest. There could be an hour long argument on the best whisky they had drunk and how many women they had laid. Ain’t bad if it helps with doing their time.

Sometimes it’s so tensed that the last resort is taken; in each cell, the oldest in the cell always claims the cell and everything in it as his. They set the rules and the freshers gotta abide with those rules; they seems to forget that we are all government properties and flippin don’t own nothing. An incident occurred that resulted in an old-timer pulling his machete from the sheath or stash. Glad others came in and stopped him before blood was drawn.

In a normal situation, the new inmate will never sleep with his eyes wide-shut and will never enter into the full phase of sleep; he will forever sleep with one eye open. His only solution is to change cells with someone. But where will he go as the cells are all filled up.

In my cell; most will want me thrown out, not because I fight, but to make it “their cell” just them. For now, ain’t gonna happened. But always watching my back, my food and my water; kinda difficult.

The chief-gossip, who lives each day in bitterness and always mimicking every words of mine does all these out of frustration; locked up for almost 5yrs, just went to trial and no decision. And what is his case? Flippin “Suspicion”; no evidence was found on him. Well, I think his wicked heart is keeping him here as many are gone. The fact that he sees inmates who came years after

Three were released after 3yrs for same “Suspicion”; that’s how lousy the judiciary system in Panama is; “Money talks, Bullshit walks or Prison door opens”; need I say more? Without money and the right connection, one could be buried here and forgotten. They don’t need evidence to lock one up, their guns does all. From the large numbers of inmates locked up as suspects; seems being a suspect in panama means your are charged as a criminal! Good law!

Well, all said and done, our lives goes on and we are glad for today. Seeing these ones walked out into their freedom, one day we may also walk that line; The line of freedom.

Tonight; Fri, Mar 16, 2012 and it’s 00:22:26; seated at the wailing wall, which now my office; but at night and to the wee hours. Some nights, had to do vigil till 2am; could get scary when I thought of what a mate once said “Many are gone from here and never completed their journey, since they took their last breathe here, their spirits are. Still trapped here and will be wondering around”; fcuk, that brings out goose bumps on my skin. And my cats walking around without any sound until their fur rubs against my skin; flippin scary.

I’m use to the night as it’s quiet and I can concentrate, no one coming around for some lousy arguments over which is the most populous continent or who is the richest man; what the heck has that got to do with my time behind bars! Flippin got no idea.

Waiting to see anyone of them come to discuss he nice book he has just read; guess they are scared of sitting at a place for a moment. The few who bothers to read apart from my fellow bloggers are the Elderly inmates who knows how to keep their brain active.

Earlier today, my cellmate and the chief-gossip was called upstairs; apparently for his freedom. He has been locked up for 5yrs for ONLY “Suspicion”; No charge, nothing on him. Pathetic how they took 5yrs off his life, not only 5yrs taken; his wife and kids are gone to another. He never had visit from them despite living in Panama.

Like we always say “it’s better to be caught red-handed committing the crime and with evidence, than to be denounced at the police”

Panama judiciary process need an overhauling; but that’s million light years away from now.

My mate didn’t make it out; as I earlier said, office bureaucracy could get muddled up with once freedom and one will end up spending days, weeks and months after his date of release.

Now, everything that goes wrong is blamed on the Indians; the Native Indians have been demonstrating for whatever reasons they deemed suitable to them; sealing off all major roads. Our food don’t come in on time, inmates can’t be taken to hospital, no medication at the clinic, no police vehicle to transport freed inmates. All these and many more shortcomings are blamed on the Indians. Hope the Indians know, there are panamanians inmates who will kill for food. So they better open up the roads and allow our food in. What a joke!

My mate may eventually have to pay before he’s taken out of the centre; he’s been here 5yrs, he should know better. One can’t walk upstairs empty-handed. Apparently, he made some quick bucks after selling stuffs that was given to him by freed inmates who left months and years ago. Usually, one doesn’t sell what was given to you, you passed it on, but being a greedy and stingy fella, he sold them things.

Wish him well in his new life, hope he won’t make the mistake his friend did by coming back here. Will be a laughing stock; as he’s so full of pride. Rarely hear him talk or wish well on others. No hard feelings against him; but if have to punch him for all the idle words I have heard from his mouth, wouldn’t hesitate!;-)

His bed is gone as one of the lads on the floor has moved up to his bed. Guess he will pass the night in the hammock on the top of the cell.

Now, I’m the second oldest in the cell, waoooooooh, how time flies. As inmates, Our days are numbered for good or bad; we pray that it’s for good.

I’m alone at the corner or junction by the wailing wall; where my mate told me to avoid, wondering how many episodes of “The haunted or paranormal activities” he’s been watching.;-)

Hope I get this online and hit my cell. Feeling very drained and weak, despite my workout, guess poor nutrition. No dough, No food! And the prison food is now coming in a ration that is not enough for a half-man; due to the increase in the number of inmates. Some days, it’s barely enough for us, the unfortunate ones have to do with empty stomach or hustle for something to feed the worms.

Won’t be complete without our other-side; many are actually coming out of the closet, wonder why it took them so long to do that. Just found out one of the fancy-lad is having a three-way-love-affair! Sir. Elton John was right, but when punches are thrown.
Hummmmm!, someone will be in hot waters. Hope caution and protection are all in place when the blow and shove. My pal, whose compatriots are bent on killing him if they have their way for being gay is looking robust and have been changing partners like he changes his strings. Hope he takes precaution and keep tab of the number of all his sex-buddies. Jokingly, did asked him, if he’s expecting as he belly is getting bigger with each day; guess he doesn’t throw, he probably swallows; yuuks!!

I feel, there is prostitution ring going on here; loads of movement at unholy hours; whispering and tale tales talk among those in the know. Whatever is going on, hope it stays and kept air-tight.

Weekend around the corner; waiting for our monthly consul-visit, many of us are dried up. Hope she come soon.

Life behind bars is a waiting game; each day is lived with hopes and expectations, of which some with be dashed and shattered into a million pieces and that’s one man’s dream gone forever.

PRISON BREAK PANAMA: Escape From La Joya (The Jewel of the Jungle)

Posted in Uncategorized on March 12, 2012 by doingtimeabroad

Everything evolves and revolves around our little world and within the four walls of the pavilion. Whatever one would imagine or dream of, have to be planned and executed within the four walls; but then, walls do have ears. There are unwritten rules that none should know of your plan, not even your case story or whatever brought you here; there’s no well-wishers among inmates, any progress on one’s case is a set back for the haters. Even when one takes ill, it’s a reason for some to rejoice. What pathetic souls we are.

Rumours and vibes from the grapevine about group of new inmates working late at night on what many knows but nobody dare talk; or else you will be brand a “Sapo” (Spanish word for Toad), a #Snitch, A grass. And in the #Underworld; snitches don’t live long to enjoy the payoff, even cops don’t like them; as they have sold their souls.
For about 3 Months, they hung all night playing board and card games, when all others are knackered and retired to their bunk beds, hammock and those without bedsteads to the cold floor (been there, know what it feels to sleep on the floor, and always woke up with a stiff back; that’s the awkward moment you realised you are in Jail)

Our three nocturnal animals get to work; slowly but steady and with patience. Someone who told me about the plan, sees them every night at work as he’s also night crawling; doing his things under the cover of darkness: giving head and been shove from behind all night by his different partners or niche of clientele. Hope safety measures are taken, as there’s an explosion of sickness among us. Extra preventive measures are needed to stay healthy and stop the spread of infectious diseases among #Inmates, but for now, none is forthcoming or anything in the pipeline from the authorities on inmates safety and healthcare. Guess, the authorities are happy to see the numbers dropped by any means.

I was lucky and fortunate to be called up on the Thursday (1st of March), a day before the attempted escape; in the middle of my workout for clinic visit; was also surprise as I never expected it. But thanks to my Asst. Consul who deserves a medal as big as a pancake pan. She has been very persistent to see that we get all necessary attention that can be gotten; if not we will all rot away, visit to clinic are for those with contacts and connection; a true form of #Prison #Nepotism!

Spent all day at the clinic, starving but eventually met a good doctor who was willing to listen and gave me all I asked for; to last for two Months, but then, it’ll be war to go back there on the next appointment on the 1st of May! Gotta do all I can to get back for my medications.

Each time one is lucky to visit the clinic, you have to braced up for what might come up or what you will encounter; it could be inmates from different gangs meeting and decided to do it there, forgetting the reason they went to the clinic. One could also be stood up all day waiting to be attended to or no vehicle to bring you back to one’s pavilion; there’s always something going wrong there. So many things can always go wrong; no medication, no doctors or nurses and the ultimate; the pharmacy or dispensary is closed for the day at midday! What a joke!!!

There’s no sense of responsibility, everybody does what he or she thinks to be right. Moreover, they are dealing with the scumbags of the society; #Prisoners. Thus, nobody give a damn sh*t about us.

Walk into this place; you have signed your death-warrant! As you can’t tell if you will make it out alive. It is a war of strength vs. Weaknesses; the system is the strength and as humans and inmate we’re the weak one!

It takes the fittest to survived the ordeals and hurdles of life within the walls of the centre. Many among use are suffering from chronic ills that need constantly monitoring, but not here.

Back in from the clinic, we won’t be allowed in as a pavilion with hardcore gangs were on the patio playing football. We had to wait an hour before we were allowed in. As the norm here is; inmates from different pavilions don’t mix, could be very fatal and a deadly encounter of the last kind.

Back to my #Nocturnal pals, all set and ready, but there were many flaws in their plans; the part of the building they set to work, right in front of the entrance and under the watch of the cops. The season (Dry season), they should have waited for the rains, the time was good; 3am when all were dead asleep except me; was reading when I head the barrages of gunshots!

The D-Day Came, 2nd of March! The Trio: One, very sick and hope of leaving here alive is very slim, no chance of survival if he’s to remain here for his time. The other two are new fellas involved in the same case; one apparently was the English teacher who recently has been working on his form in the gym to get fit for the #Prison #Break. The third, been very reserved, always keeping to himself and rarely talks to anyone; many here sees that as been pompous. But that’s the best way to live here, as they say “familiarity breeds contempt”; inmates are busy wanting to know about other people’s cases and lives, not thinking about their Les miserable vive ;-), the time they will spend here and how to make the best use of it. Get a call to the admin; they all be waiting to know what you went up for. Flippin idle-minded twats!

They thought they had all set up and at the final cut to the last iron bar; 3am the first slipped out, but landing on the old dog’s kennel with a loud bang; got the guard in the tower attention, who responded with warning shots, the other two made their way out, only to come back in, as the cops were shooting directly at them with shotguns; we later found out they all had pellets stuck in the bodies.

The decision to escape was a fatal mistake; every one of us who are here for some time know now, knows that the cops are trained to shot at any moving objects as they are too fat and clumsy to run after anyone (and as we also learnt from the commissioner of police during the search, that they are authorised to shoot directly at would-be escapees) good one!

The barrages of gunshots sent all out from their bunks, hammocks and those on the floor also got up to join in the fun. First thought; it’s an escape from one of the high secured pavilion. Little did many knew it was right under our noses. Soon we heard the pellets from shotguns dropping on our roof; then we knew how close it was and damn too close for comfort.

Then, we knew what was coming on us; search and rough ups! Seizures of anything luxurious. Everyone stashed all they’ve got to stashed as we all know the storm that will be coming in as soon as it’s dawn. Many thought the cops will come in while it was still dark, I knew they won’t make a silly mistake by opening the door for 500 inmates when they are just a handful of them. They had the building surrounded till daybreak.

We were finally hauled out, seated under the blazing sun while they roughen up our cells; flat screen TV’s, Smartphones and laptops were taken in the search, many lost stuffs. Some hungry cops dined one my cell mate’s groceries; drank juice, eat cookies even top it up with fags. What a hungry cops.

The one that was caught had his back slashed; the razor-sharp edge of the sawn-off bar ripped the flesh from his back, will need multiple stitches to mend his back. The other two were later caught after the search as we all ordered to take off our shirt on re-entry to our cells. They had fresh cuts on their bodies; that’s all the cops needed as none among us were ready to point them out. They got their men.

When the lazy-ass cops finally sent their report about the foiled and failed escape to the media; they falsified the numbers, instead of Three (Tres en
Español), they lied; giving Six! Bloody liars. Came on the news, that 6 foreign inmates tried to escape but were caught by the ever vigilant cops. Ya right!!!

MY CELLMATES
I, Happened to be the only non-spanish speaking inmate in my cell; a cell like others meant for 6 inmates at a time, but we are 10 in numbers and sometimes it goes up to 12.

So much sentiments, sarcasms and male-gossiping from Men who think they are men; but are actually Pu**y!

Never in my wildest dream had I ever thought there are and would be adults who can’t figure out, how to put in the round peg into the circle hole or the square, triangle or rectangle ones into their respective holes.
But here I am with men who can’t figure that sort of things out; how to staple bowls of different sizes accurately; simple geometry thought us shapes and sizes and as human we could have a 3D perspective of an object, thus should know that the smaller bowls should fit into the big one and the big ones into the bigger ones.

Well, not my cell mates, as I tend to teach them on daily basis; we are 10 grown-ass men in a tiny cell, so #Space is everything. Once the bowls are not properly staple, they come falling around.

I have been able to fit my whole life into my single-bunk bed; despite being taller than the length of the bed, so my feet tends to hang out, but better than sleeping on the cold-bare floor.

Living through each day without exchanging harsh words will be a miracle, but I’m use to it. It could come from my choice of music or my having a nap in the afternoon. I’m used to them and their women-like nagging. But I may not be used to what evil goes on in their mind. That I leave to God to watch over me.

There’s one, whom I short of words to describe him, he’s the oldest in the cell and one of the oldest by age; but he acts like a 2 years, eavesdrops on everyone conversation, repeats every words he hears like a kid learning to speak; can be annoying when I’m talking and he repeats whatever I say. Feel like punching him. I once heard him say, he will never buy anything for anyone to eat but eats whatever one cooks with his eyes. I guess in about every culture in the world; the Dead are to be respected, but not with this fool. He talks rubbish about our departed comrades. Any new inmates, he will be the first to take him through the history of the pavilion and how many deaths he has witnessed and still standing.

I’m praying the good Lord for more patience and that he doesn’t cross my path, we should keep on, on our parallel path. Whenever a new inmates comes to the cell, he set rules and eventually sent them out. Guess karma is paying him back; never went to trials, not until after 3yrs behind bars and still waiting for decision by the judge. Hope he waits forever and since he claims the cell is his, he will remain here will the rest of us are gone for good.

Others live in fear of him, well I don’t know how he got the grip of them. All I owe any man here is an “Hello” except the grocer who credits me stuffs in good fate; do pay him though.

One of the young lad; who lives in a world of confusion, little prick doesn’t know what he wants, he feels more comfortable in numbers and always come back looking rejected as words must have been said that he didn’t like; and he seems to be pugnacious in character. Lately he approached me if we can go on #KFC kind of business; selling fried chicken and fried green plantains, sound nice, but checking the expenses and tha facts that one will be selling them on credit, it doesn’t worth it. And I’m damn broke to invest in any non-profitable venture.

I’m glad, despite my joviality, I do keep my distances from other inmates. I have people I chit-chat with; the unfortunate ones to be here. And others, just an hello will keep them going.

There’s a saying about prison’s life; “your back is constantly on the wall”; it gives you a good view and always on guard. No one stays loose, but some do though; after downing some potent moonshine and snorting dope; seen one chronic alcoholic (he should be sent to anonymous alcoholics) sleeps right under the bed on a bare floor, next day you see him up and about.

Hustling and Hassles

Living through each day is survival, our centre is like a market place, everything trends and sells.

There’s casino royale with all the players seated on a round table (a round flat wood supported by tanks), cards and dice are dealt as they puffs and wine like Mr. Bond;-)

Gambling and gaming is one of the live-wire of the centre, while the state is running her lottery, we are also running ours; whatever number wins, whoever bought that number also win in here. Anything can go in for the lottery, inmates hawking medication (walking pharmacy; can’t depend on the clinic).

But above all; FOOD, you can never go wrong with that, we love food. Inmates are busy cooking round the clock. Those who gets visit and those with contacts to bring in food stuffs live larger than others. But we’re all in same sh*t and it’s survival.

At least we do get monthly visit and volunteers visit from our embassy; which is uplifting, there are many whose embassy don’t give a sh*t about their existence. That could be devastating; no one cares, they are on their own. Except the calls and chat with loved ones back home.

Among the mentally retarded inmates is a compatriot of mine, whom I may place in that group. He thinks, he’s god-gifts to women because of his steroid-jerked up body. Talk to him about body-building, he tells you all the hits he’s done and apparently he has enlarged heart; which he argues that, it is not from the long extensive usage of steroids. But from my researches and readings, I have come to believe that there could be a link between both. He and another now-released inmate suffers same ills; enlarged hearts and they are both roid addicts. Put one and one together and you get two!

What annoys me about him; he can’t flippin stay in his cell, always coming to tell me how he wants to have kids with women from different parts of the world; he’s not taking care of them kids, sired the kids and the women are left to look after the kids. What an idiotic dullard, can’t believe a man at his age will be thinking so low. Preys on vulnerable girls and women because of poverty. Once told him, his class of women ain’t mine, didn’t take it lightly with me;-)

Among us are inmates who never got rehabilitation from their government as promised; these lads and men lived all their lives fighting, sleeping with guns and wars; but when they dropped their arms, their government promised them rehabilitation, they didn’t get it, so they took up another path, which has brought many into jails. These lads and men are men of the paramilitary and some hardcore FARC fighters; one handles everything he sees like his piece. His movement is well calculated, in his mind, he still believes, he is in his war. Such and more are what we have to live with; a vicious circle that will never be broken.

Smartphones

They are called smartphones because they can do almost everything and they happened to be multi-tasking; I’m writing and listening to Mozart – Ode to Joy and other classic songs I “illegally” downloaded;-) (apparently, my cell mates don’t fancy my idea of music, they so hate my music, as they can’t drink along with Mozart, Beethoven or Bocelli) (Hahahahahahahahahaha; Dr. Evil’s voice). I’m also tweeting, reading all the headlines and news across the world; it’s 06:09:07 on Mon, Mar 12, 2012 here. so the phone helps keep me going. Thank God for the huge database of the internet; helps with all kind of research and also provide answers to my arguing-inmate pals. And also some wicked recipes for moonshine and health stuffs; kinda my netdoctor.

Many are jumping on the smartphones wagon; but the phones are flippin smarter than they are. One of my preoccupation is helping others sort the messes they make with their phones, internet set-up, download and installing apps. And some wants me to call customer services on their behalf; when the language spoken is Spanish and they are Spanish speakers. The problem is; they call, they flippin won’t know what to ask or even if I get the question across, they won’t be able to do anything with instructions given to them over the phone. They just can figure out such things. But they know how to handle semi’s and 9mm! And crack someone’s head.

My phone is everything; it’s like a pc to me, but to most of my fellow inmates, it’s what and where they indulged in their fantasies; xxx pictures, porn and chats, nothing more. At least it helps the mood and keep us going. Without the phones, life would’ve been very miserable as there’s nothing else to waste one’s time on. Maybe the booze and dope.

It’s Monday morning; the dawn of a new day, new week; we remain soldiers of fortune and hope. Counting my days as they turn into weeks and weeks to Months as I wait for the decisive decision that will make that change forever.

Life Behind Bar; In Pursuit Of Happiness.

Posted in Uncategorized on March 3, 2012 by doingtimeabroad

In Pursuit Of Happiness.

Happiness; Each man have a different view, meaning as to what constitutes and makes one happy. To an inmate incarcerated in a country like Panama; Happiness will only exist in one’s imagination or probably reminiscing on past glories as the status quo is inside the wall of the prison; my cellmates wakes each morning to talk about how their speedboats would’ve been and types of Guns they’d like to use or had used! Such is Happiness to these folks!

Many walks and lives with starry-eyed happiness; unrealistic dreams and hopes. Some will die with those dreams and castles in the air! Many will never accept the reality of where they are. Sooner or later as it dawn on them, but then it’s too late to change and find a new path!

Lives of inmates could easily rot away as the pressure mounts on. Many on walking in here will seek solace and comfort in religion, but as soon as the pressure sets in, they take to other vices in order to keep their sanity. On the long term; they rot away, slowly the system takes away the sanity from them, turns them to vicious animals. they’ve just experience the hard-knock school of life.

Others will go back home not waking up from the shock and nightmares of this place; my cell mate who was released after six years, went back home and couldn’t fit into the society of the outside world. Since he is from one of the Latino countries around, there’s no provision for rehabilitation of any sort, there’s a tendency of re-offending, the biggest mistake he made, was isolating himself from the outside world while he was here. Buried deep in prison business; was lucky as he had a job in the kitchen; which brought him in close contact with the Nationals and all runners for all kind of stuffs; fags, liquor, knives and anything one wants to keep going. For a year or more that we live together, he rarely read, watch anything secular or listen to news; he was always glued to the Hosanna Channel, a Tele-Evangelist who is taking Panama by storm and very popular among Panama inmates.

It’s so pathetic how the government so believe that religion alone will change these lads; they grew up from the slums of the city, born into the life of crime and some started stints in the slammer as early as 12 years of age. Met one who did 13 years or more for murder and he has become a prison chaplain, back in El Renacer, he used to walk around with Bible in his hands and a knife in his pants; what a joke! His slogan, like the many Bible carrying inmates here is “Dios Bendiga” (God Bless you)! It’s like “Open Sesame”; a password into many things! The cops are easily fooled by these Bible-carrying cons, not me; always watching my back when I’m around them; that last incident in the front of visiting families, made the families to raise their concerns about the so-called “Siervo” – Men of God; as it has come to light that they are the weapons-runners; moving arms between gangs from one pavilion to another. Guess they are fighting God’s own battle in the way their little-shallow minds tells them.

They’ll never get reformed or rehabilitated as the system only punishes; the system doesn’t do anything about the second part of what Prison ought to be. In most part, some inmates do come to their senses and sought redemption but then, with major preoccupation; thinking and hustling of what you will eat and constantly being your own guard, barely no time to sit and open a page in any book.

Such has been my predicament; unlike what we see on films; about jails and prison in The West, it’s a different story here in Latin America. As much as 15 inmates in cells meant for 6, and each morning and all day chattering and talking with their buddies as they have nothing else to do. Music blasting from improvised speakers and someone calling your name; just because he can’t just keep a moment of silence to himself. Everyday is a hustle for me, the only moment and time I have for me is between 1am and 6am; even then, I’ll be the talk of the day for having my reading lamp on all night! What a pathetic life.

Back to my freed-mate; I knew he was fighting a lost-battle, he couldn’t keep up a conversation like an adult he was, easily flies into anger-rage and tantrums like a kid. He was so obsessed with his physical appearances; spent hours cleaning and polishing his face and left his inside untouched; wild and on the edge. Doesn’t smoke, snort nor drink, he carried the Bible alongside his hidden knives; wonder where or whom he gave them to. To make matter worse; my gym-freak and roid addict compatriot introduced him to steroids; then came the Roid-rage, who will suffer most from all these?; guess his loved ones who were happily waiting for his return. Glad he left without both of getting into a fight as we were at the brink of that. Hope he sorts himself out!:-(

He is not alone in such predicament, many among us are living in a void they can’t understand; life is lived on daily basis. You wake up alive, go through the same routine each day; like a mouse in its little cage running round its wheel of fortune, Fortune; if one live to survive the menace of this place, then he is fortunate enough! 😉

So much has become norms and tradition within our small-big world; stabbing, slashing and battering is normal, pray it ain’t you. Within our pavilion, the most has been between debtors and creditors; knives drawn, punches are thrown, pocket of fights get started while other stand and watch; sounds crazy, but that’s what is happening. Fellow inmates rather see blood than hear rantings from grown up men who are pussies!

The only #Arab among us got into a bash with one of the lads over money. He is so large that you don’t walk with him, you swim with him. Hope he loses those pounds of fat! Lately the rumble between debtors and creditors seems to be taking place in front of my cell. Wondering what the affinity is, my released cell mate was an enforcer for one of compatriots; but now, he’s left to fight for his money alone.

Knives are drawn but yet to be used, one can’t tell when that moment will come; true blood to be drawn. As the population is growing so also is the impatience, anxieties and urge to strike grows among us.

We wake up to each new day with different faces, one could look into our faces and what you see is emptiness and void; vacuum that needs constant refilling with whatever they so choose to.

The system here is such a one that after years behind bars, most inmates; if they make it out alive are bound to come back. Had always thought prison to serve two purposes; Punishment for crimes and correction or rehabilitation, but in most cases it fulfils the former leaving the inmate the choice to work out their salvation and redemption in whatever way they can and many can’t and will never figure out a way out of these maze of life; it’s a vicious circle that is rarely broken to provide a way of escape; which many even after released remained locked in!

It’s Carnival in the city, literally everything within our walls come to a standstill. It’s got to be survival till it get normal on Wednesday next week; if they’ll be awake from the hangovers.

NUTRITION:

Survival has been on the prison food; but the meat or chicken can be scary, indulging in them will send you to the toilet all day. There’s a fascinating rice the inmates nicknamed “Arroz Misterios” (Mysterious Rice); it comes on the cart, from a distance one would think we’re dinning on Chinese fried rice, but on a closer look; we’re flippin eating half-cooked rice mixed with whatever they can lay their hands on. Like they say “A beggar has no choice”! We are left to pick and select; pick and select what want, re-cook the rice and eat. “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”, that doesn’t apply to this rice, as many who feasted on it and went back home were quarantined for days while check were ran on them for what alien they must have brought within them to their home country.

Eggs, Eggs and More Eggs have become my only source of protein and something closer to meat or flesh. There’s no shortage of that here, being sick with high cholesterol; I’m always on the watch and lookout as to how many of them I eat. lately I’m beginning to wonder if eggs sent to the centre are out-of-date ones as I tend to find 5 or more spoiled and rotten eggs in each crate. Not thinking of drinking raw eggs anymore; Salmonella and infections!

Beef, Chicken and pork chops are rarely available and once they are; one is buying at cut-throat prices.

Had always thought, being a prisoner is the cheapest one could live, but not in Panama as each inmate fends for himself. All sickness is tended to through self-medication as waiting to be taken to the clinic is a dream.

A Panamanian young lad who had cardiac arrest; taken to the clinic in the heat of the afternoon. There were no staffs to attend to him; he died right there in the clinic, where he was supposed to get help. That’s another case of negligence.

Fruits and vegetables barely come in, even when they are allowed in, the prices are so scary. And neither are they allowed in during our fortnight visit.

Systematically, the authorities are depriving inmates daily needed calories to weaken us; but those with connections still bring in their stuffs and dine like Princes and queers!

Another stabbing incident in Pavilion2; among our village people. From report, it was among lovers turning green with envy and jealousy. A jealous lover stabbed a rival and sent him to the Land of No-Return! That’s one gone for Love!

Living and surviving in a prison system like this is like puzzles and riddles; one have to understand how to fit in and decipher the chaos.