My day in a Guatemalean Prison

There I was, nearly passed out from a contact high. I was surrounded by 215 notoriously violent gang members in a Guatemalan prison. The smoke from their thick joints billowed up and filled the room creating a haze that blocked my vision and made me dizzy. Ten years ago, I never would have imagined that I would be in a Guatemalan Prison, high from marijuana, and nervously speaking to a tattoo covered gang member named Snake (not his real name), with no guard in sight. How had I gotten myself in this situation?


Driving up the winding, dusty road to the prison, we passed armored tanks and police officers carrying automatic weapons. The military guarding the prison were ready and waiting to fire when the call was given. At the entrance to the prison, I left my camera, jewelry, phone, and passport; my only forms of freedom. The Guard stamped my arm and warned me not to wash the stamp off because it was the only identification that would get me out of the prison. I was taken away from my escorts and into a room where a woman yelled at me in Spanish as she ran her hands up my thighs and under my breasts in search of contraband. Had it been anyone else, I would have felt like I was being sexually assaulted. Considering the fact that I saw numerous “illegal” items once I was in the prison and the fact that this prison guard was extremely thorough in her search, I can only imagine where people have to stick things to get them past the guards.

As I walked down the hill to the cell block, I imagined open courtyards surrounded by guards who would watch me carefully. I think I was even naïve enough to believe that the courtyard would have trees and birds and sunshine. However, when we got to our building, we were led through a dark narrow hallway through a locked gate. Once through the gate,
the guard locked us in and left the building. Inside, 215 men closed in on us with shouts and laughter. I'm not sure what they were laughing about, but I was the only woman. They were smoking hand rolled joints and were covered from the tops of their heads to their toes in tattoos as they closed in on us. The room was drowning in smoke stacks and small windows near the ceiling were covered in banners, keeping fresh air out. The graffti covering the walls depicted happy and sad clown faces, naked women in sexual positions, and gang symbols. There were no birds or sunshine. There was a sign of hope; however, that I will tell you about in a minute.

A shirtless man with a fresh bullet wound was seated beside me talking to a doctor who was giving him medicine. Snake explained that the man was shot by police last week when the inmates broke out in a riot against the guards when one of them was not allowed to smoke his joint during a Bible study.


“We are fine unless the police give us a problem. When they don’t let us do what we want, that is a declaration of war. If they declare war on us, we have to fight. When I got here three years ago, we were locked in our cells and weren’t even allowed to have a mattress. Then, more of us came and we demanded more freedom. Now, as long as they leave us alone, we leave them alone.” This was Snake’s explanation of all the marijuana, cell phones, and other things we saw in the prison (the things the women no doubt bring as gifts on their visits...along with their very personal gifts of affection).

My escorts in the prison were two men: Ricardo, who is a chaplain in the prison, and Dr. Corbitt, President and Co-founder of BuildaBridge, who has been there before. I trust both men and trust that they would not allow anything bad to happen to me, so I wasn’t initially fearful to walk into the prison. While I stood in the middle of the room, my thoughts changed. I suddenly became acutely aware that regardless of my comfort with these two men, the inmates could at any time take me and rape or murder me if they wanted to. I have been a staff member at a psyche hospital during a riot against staff and there is a calm that is sensed by everyone in the room right before the violence begins. This is the only other time in my life that I have had this feeling. The difference in the prison is that it would take the guards several minutes to help us...if they could...and a lot can happen in a few seconds.

Somehow, even with these thoughts running through my mind, I felt some kind of peace in that space. I looked in the eyes of these men and thought about them as children...some of them were 15. When we are born, our eyes are the only part of our body that never change. They are the same size the day we are born and the day we die. The eyes I looked into that day were the same eyes that Snake’s mother looked into 37 years ago when he was born. Now, he is a member of a gang known for decapitating their enemies, heavy drug activity, killing people when they cross into the gang’s territory, and raping women.

Why did I put myself in harms way to go into this prison?

I believe no one is completely evil. I believe there is innate goodness in each of us. But above all, I feel called to bring a message of hope and healing to the most vulnerable people in the toughest parts of our world through the power of the arts: the mission of BuildaBridge.


Last year, BuildaBridge Artist on Call member, Leah Samuelson, worked with these prisoners to paint a mural of the Prodigal Son. Despite the fact that graffti covers the walls of the prison, this mural has been left unaltered. This is a sign of hope. As a result of the chaplain’s work
and our art!making over the past three years, this is one of the prisons with the least violence. Later this year, BuildaBridge International is sending a muralist to work with these prisoners to paint a mural of the Lord’s Supper on the wall, at the prisoner’s request.

I have seen the power of the arts to bring about transformation in the toughest places in the world. I also know that even going into the prison and acknowledging that I care enough to spend time with Snake and others like him, is important to them and critical to their reformation.

How I spent my Thanksgiving

November 27, 2008, Thanksgiving

“I had to repeat 8th grade and found out that I will not be able to afford high school so I have not been confident. Then I came to drama class and now I know I can have confidence.” This is what Idris, one of my students said to me today. We had a normal day with amazing kids. We continue to practice for tomorrow and I am excited to see how the kids do. I have seen such an improvement in their attitudes and confidence since the beginning of the week.
One girl, Sofi, told me that he mother used to sell drugs and was put in prison for 6 years. Now her mother is out of prison, but is very sick and cannot work.

I wish I could help these kids go to school. It doesn’t seem right that there are kids in America who take school for granted, and kids here who aren’t even given school as an option.

Today, Brenda told her story to the kids about how she was homeless and took care of her 6 siblings. It is amazing what people do to survive. She also said that we must not only plant the seed but provide the sun and the soil and the air to help it grow. I gave her money to buy Juliet and her family food. I hope to sponsor her or one of the other children.

Today, over 119 people were killed in Mumbai. There are also rebels in Bangkok. More people are still in hostage. I like watching Al Jazeera. I am not sure I would know this much about what was going on in the world if I was home. The news here cares about the whole world. I think that we are missing something by being so self-focused in the US. I love being an American. There is so much freedom and opportunity that comes from growing up in the US, and I have so much pride in our history. We have an incredible story to tell and a gift to share with the world because we are blessed. My problem is that we are so self-centered and self-focused that we are missing out on what may be a much greater opportunity than we could ever imagine.

welcome home

“Welcome Home”

This is what the priest said to me as I left the church tonight with ashes on my head and bitter wine on my tongue. I haven’t been to that church or any other in several weeks. More importantly, I can’t remember how many times people have said those words to me. Home has always been a strange concept for me…something I have struggled to understand. I have never lived anywhere more than six years. I am constantly moving. I am constantly leaving. I am not always coming back. A friend of mine said home is where ever his parents are. I suppose that is true for me as well, but it is hard to truly say that when my parents live in a house I have never lived in and a town I barely know.

Often I go to the various places where the people I love now live and I hope to find home. Chicago, Alaska, New York, Philadelphia, Florida, and Mississippi, all hold pieces of my home. All are easy to go to, but difficult to leave. Recently, I drove away from one of these places and my heart began to physically and literally hurt. That has never happened to me before and it scared me, but something about it was incredible and good.

In my house, my bedroom walls are bare. There are still boxes I haven’t opened. There is always a suitcase ready to leave or ready to be unpacked. Something about it is comforting, but I am not yet ready to call it home. It is only a part of the journey towards the place I really belong. I just haven’t been able to figure out where I am headed.

But tonight, when the Priest looked at me, held my hand and said, “welcome home,” everything about it felt right. Peace came over me and I thought perhaps, I have finally arrived.

Random

1. I hate doing these things online, but have gotten so many of this one that I couldn't help myself.
2. I was in four episodes of "Early Edition" a show starring Kyle Chandler who is now on Friday Night Lights and I sometimes wonder if he remembers me.
3. I spend hours each day wondering how I can raise money to end poverty. I usually get a headache.
4. There is something about me that I have only ever told one person and he was practically a stranger.
5. I am writing a book. I am almost done. No one has seen it.
6. I love Harrisburg, think it's an amazing city, and don't care what other people think about it.
7. I try to be liberal but would secretly love cooking, cleaning, and raising children.
8. My house may be a little cluttered, but I will always have a clean toilet and shower.
9. I was going to cook steak for someone on a Friday once and made steak every night that week to practice, so it would be perfect. By the time he came for dinner, I didn't even want to look at steak and had to force myself to eat it.
10. I think UGGS are the ugliest thing a girl could wear.
11. I bake pies when I am upset. It is cheaper than therapy. I baked 12 during December.
12. I miss someone a lot.
13. My idol is Tina Fey. I believe she is a genius.
14. I read an entire book in French when I was 13. I have no idea how to speak it now.
15. If I could do anything, I would be a comedian.
16. Sometimes I think getting a dog was a mistake.
17. Since I was a child my favorite colors have been pink and purple. I thought that would change, but they still are:-)
18. The sight of Calla Lillie's makes me cry.
19. I think my cousin, Steve, is incredible.
20. I had to learn to walk with a full cast on my leg.
21. Wesley Forest is my oasis from life.
22. The more parents I meet the more I realize mine really are the world's greatest:-)
23. I used to want 7 kids so I could have more than the Brady Bunch. Now, I think 3 or 4 would be good.
24. banana pancakes are my favorite.

25. I want to learn how to surf before I die.

Kenya 5

November 26, 2008

Today was another incredible day of class. The students are learning the poem “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou and making up movements to go with it. We gave our students an assignment to tell us a struggle they had and then follow it with the words, “And still I rise.” One small boy got up in front of the class and said, “Last night I looked for dinner, but didn’t get any. I went to bed hungry, but still I rise!” We found out later that the boy hadn’t eaten since we gave him lunch the day before, so Dorette and Said took him outside the classroom and gave him some food. The boy came back to class very excited and active and thanked Dorette several times. When we read the students’ journals we found that several talked about going without food and not being able to study. I told Brenda, one of the local teachers, that although some children in the US go to bed hungry, most actually overeat and would not be able to relate to that at all.

I also talked to Brenda about the possibility of sponsoring one of the children. I have been to Mathare. I have met these children. I would much rather help one of these kids then to get a child I have never met or seen their environment.

I went back to Andrew’s familiy’s house and his mother gave me many things to take back to him and his sister. In addition, she went to the Masai market yesterday and bought me jewelry for my family and t-shirts for me. The hospitality is incredible here. Celmali and Carl and I noticed that, unless there is a special occasion, Americans don’t know how to receive gifts.

Kenya 4

November 25, 2008

Today, I woke at 5am hot and with a mosquito in my ear. Since I could not sleep, I made a cup of tea and enjoyed the silence. Most of our kids came back today and we also got six more girls for our class. Duncan was not able to make it, and I am hoping we see him again tomorrow. Our class went very well, but we have a lot of work to do between now and Friday. I am impressed with the hope that exists in children who live in such conditions. I also love the fact that they see the things in their area that need to change and they want to be the change agents.

After class, we took a walk around the Mathare Valley. I am pretty sure this is worse than Dharvi slums in Mumbai. The river that runs through the valley is extremely contaminated with human waste and garbage. Small business are everywhere in the Valley. Some make chipati, some make beer, and others fry French fries or dry maize. This seems to be the only was people are able to make money. Most of the houses were made out of scrap metal or dung. The smell is almost unbearable and the filth is incredible. Any churches in the valley are locked up and have fences around them. We were told that the churches will not work together and that some won’t allow people to come to the church unless they are wearing suits and dresses.

Mathare is a place that is dirty and ugly. Mathare’s people are the most beautiful people I have seen. The children are smart, eager, gorgeous, and I fear for them. No one should live like this. With so many Christians in the world and so much wealth owned by those Christians, there is no reason there should even be a place called Mathere…..at least not one that looks like this. These people are children of God just as I am. They are entitled to the same rights as I have. As Christians, we should be fighting for these people and making their lives more just. I was shocked and saddened by the lack of the church’s existence in the valley.

I thought a lot about the verses in the Bible that speak about helping the poor, the last will be first, and the poor will inherit the earth. I wonder how those verses apply to the people of Mathare. As I write this, I am watching the news talk about an additional 800 billion dollars that is about to be put back into the economy. I wonder what that much money could do for places like Mathare.

After we walked through the valley, I slept for three hours, got up and ate dinner, and then went out with Pat, Dr. Corbitt, Dorette, and Carl to Fairview for coconut sorbet and beer☺ There isn’t enough time to wrap up a day like this.

Kenya 3

24th
Today was day one at the school and the first day I went to visit my Friend’s parents. When we arrived at the school, we found out that we would have three Kenyan teachers with us for class. Brenda is a drama teacher at a local church, Said is a musician, and Godfrey is a photographer. We have 16 students who are beautiful and wonderful! These kids are so eager to learn and begin listening right away. Today, we worked on acting out the poem, Still I Rise by Maya Angelou and worked on movement and mirroring. Our metaphor today was that Theatre is like a mirror of our lives because it tells the story of life like a mirror tells the story of our face. The children began telling their stories by telling us things they have seen or been through in life.

After class, we went to David’s family’s café to eat native food. We had Chapatis, greens, corn, and beans. Everything was delicious!! We then went quickly from poverty to wealth, going to the YAYA center, an upscale mall.

At night, Andrew’s dad came to pick me up and have me over for dinner. I was able to see Andrew’s house, and meet his cousins and brother. For the most part I spoke with his mom and dad and barely spoke to the children at all. I was treated like a queen here and they served me a generous dinner and even brought me water and a basin to wash my hands for dinner. We had a wonderful conversation about politics, global concerns, and mostly, Obama. Andrew’s dad says that Americans have got to got back to the basics. Here, I understand what the basics are and I like them. The room is simple, the food is simple, the life, in ways, is simple, and all is good. How is it that I survive on so little here, yet need so many more amenities at home? He said the world is a small village and is the US sneezes, the whole world has a cold. This is why they watch our economy and life very carefully. I never thought of 9/11 affecting them very much, but he said, that hurt everyone, not just the US. I think that when missionaries “brought the gospel to the world,” they only focused on saving souls instead of changing lives. Along with Christianity came corruption and the people here see that. How we have failed Christ. Perhaps it is those people who we were out to “save” who will eventually have to save us. Though no one is perfect and corruption in general is bad here, there is so much we can learn from the sense of community, strong family values, and basic respect for others that Kenyan people share.

Coming back to my hotel, I had “a moment,” and watched Novelas with Carl. Then, Dorette and I brainstormed about class tomorrow. We are both excited about our plans for the day. I am extremely gassy and have a rash on my face and chest. I am hoping this is something that will easily go away…

Barack Obama is like a god here.