Part II - A Prison

On my 6^th day in Cochabamba, I got to go inside a Bolivian prison.  The prison structure is quite different here and it was on this occasion that I especially noticed my mind wanting to make sense of what I was seeing.  A million questions and comparisons arose in my mind and I had to consciously try to set everything aside to simply be present and observe.

Before going into the prison (there is no distinction between jails and prisons here), I was given a bit of an orientation so I would have some information.  There are families living inside the prisons here.  Children up the age of 6 are allowed to live inside, although it seems there may be many exceptions beyond that age.  Anybody that is not a prisoner is allowed to come and go as they please including the children who leave to go to school each day.

There are approximately 10 million people in Bolivia and also approximately 10 million in Michigan.  10,000 people are in prison in Bolivia.  60,000 people are in prison in Michigan.

Several of the prisons, including the one I went to, were not built to be prisons but rather were designed to be housing complexes.  “Cells” have to be purchased and there are not enough for everybody.  People can move about as they please within the prison.  It was described to me as a very loud atmosphere.

With this information, I went with several sisters and female volunteers to the “male” prison.  We brought no personal belongings with us except copies of our passports.  Several of them were to distribute milk in a campaign to educate about malnourishment and several of us were going to help get the little kids shoes.

As we walked up to the building there were a dozen security guards standing around.  Some were searching bags, some searching people, one checking ID.  After making it through this we walked through a wooden gate.  On the other side, we were warmly greeted by several of the men. 

It opened up to a large patio with families eating meals at plastic picnic tables.  It was open air - there was no ceiling.  Around the edges were various food stands, convenience store, and many many men just hanging out or standing around.  We passed through and made our way to the second floor.  The stairway was narrow, dark, and smelly.  Several steps seemed a bit questionable and the stairwell was packed with people, just barely enough room for people to be going up and down at the same time.  This floor had a balcony overlooking the patio below around the entire perimeter.  Rooms that seemed mainly for shops, like making shoes, etc seemed to be on this floor.

We progressed to the third floor where we entered a room of men hanging out and playing chess, etc.  They all left to make room for the shoe distribution.  One prisoner was in charge of the money and the other was in charge of seeing which shoes fit which children.  We waited for a few minutes and once the children came home from school, they all came running into the room.  They would try on their shoes and a parent had to sign for them.  Everybody was very pleasant and it was hard to tell which parents belonged to which kid as they all clearly looked out for each other’s families.

Upon leaving the jail, I was able to talk with an Italian man who has been working inside the jails for a couple of years helping the men come up with productive businesses.  He answered many of my questions.

 

Each prisoner only receives $1 US dollar a day.  This is a decision between lunch or dinner and nothing else.  Inside the prison, generally speaking, the ones that have more visitors are the ones that are better off.  If they have family bringing them food, money, or taking a product of theirs out into the streets to sell – they can make more money.

There are elections within the prisons where they choose delegates.  You see, there is no security within the prison.  The moment we passed through the gate into the prison, we went from a dozen security guards to none.  So, they elect who is going to be in charge of certain matters within the prison walls even to the point of who is going to be the “doctor”, etc. 

The statistics vary with every person I ask but many of the prisoners have not yet been tried.  They are not sorted into jails by their crime as there is only one “max security” prison.  And, when I asked about the children’s safety, the Italian man told me that there is a code of morals.  The children are left unharmed as they know that if they were to touch a child, they would be murdered almost instantly.  That is to say that a man may have killed 20 people to land in jail and yet, he would not even think about hurting a child within the jail.

I left that day fascinated and struggling to find words to describe my experience - so many words and descriptions and yet nothing that can adequately paint a picture of what I saw.  What is better, what is worse, or perhaps, what is just different?

Open Eyes, Ears, and Mind

We’re here in Cochabamba!  I love stepping into a new culture.  There is so much to learn and see.  I find myself observing so much (and probably ignorant of much more:)).  One of the challenges of being in a different culture for me is the temptation of my mind to categorize everything that I see.  I immediately want to bunch it up with something that is already stored away in my brain and memory.  Does it fit nicely next to the other pictures and understandings of the world I already have stored or does it not quite make sense?  It seems that when it fits nicely, I want to judge it “good”.  And when it doesn’t fit, I am quick to judge it “bad”. 

Maybe some things are better than what I have experienced before, maybe some things are worse, but mostly, they are probably just different.   And most definitely I won’t know my opinion until I dig deeper into the why’s and how’s of the culture and situations.

These first couple of weeks I am mainly just being introduced to many different organizations Maryknoll works with as well as learning the city, culture, people, politics, etc.  I have given myself the challenge, for this initial introduction phase, of simply observing and withholding judgment.

I would love to make this a goal for the rest of my life, to look at everything – simply seeing it and asking why – before judging it.  I know “forever” is not an obtainable goal however, so, these first few weeks in Cochabamba it is.

Now you are probably wondering what kinds of experiences I am talking about – and I could give you a million different little examples already from almost every passing moment of the day – the food, the transportation, the markets..everything.  But I really want to share a big one with you.

It will probably be long and isn’t written yet…so stay tuned and hopefully you will be rewarded shortly;)

Overwhelmed

Here we go.

I think it is safe to say that the last weeks, maybe even months, have been filled in moments, days, or multi - day stretches of feeling overwhelmed.  Quitting my job and moving out of the house, saying good-bye to family and friends that I won’t get to see for another year.  Sorting, packing, and cleaning.  And perhaps the most difficult overwhelming feeling for me was the decision making.  The constant need to make decisions about what goes where, how I will do or be when or with whom.  Should I pack the breakable object with newspaper, bubble wrap, cardboard?  Should we get the health insurance with this deductible or that one?  Should I bring clothes I love so I am comfy or clothes that I don’t really like so I can have no attachment? 

Little decisions, yet - 

Life change.  No Job. Moving. Grand Adventure.

Overwhelmed.  In so many different ways.  But you know the overwhelming feeling that brought tears to my eyes more often than the rest?  The overwhelming abundance of love and support given to us these last months and weeks.

In my life, I feel I have continued to grow stronger in my courage to take leaps of faith, to do what I feel pulled to do.  I have the great fortune of having incredible people who go above and beyond to help me strive towards the person and lessons I want to be and have.  I was born into an amazing position in life of comfort, security, and an absurd amount of relativesJ  and friends to help me.  And every step of the way that position has just snowballed into more co-workers, friends, and family that deepen the richness of my life and give me the courage to take the next leap of faith.

And this experience, this big step that was harder than all the other moves I’ve made before, just brought those amazing relationships to light.  Money pouring in from all different people when they heard the slightest hint of the word “fundraising”, relatives seeking to visit me when they had the opportunity, friends showing up after work to help load heavy furniture without even a text to remind them, specially thought out blessings and cards to send us on our way.

Overwhelmed – by all of you and the love that everyone on this earth should have the fortune to experience.

Today, overwhelmed with excitement to go shower the Bolivian people with that gift of love and I am sure, to learn many lessons and hopefully find some adventures along the way.

THANK YOU.