Me and Jail

I've been spending a lot of time in Peruvian jail lately. Happily, I have not run afoul of the law but I'm working on starting a class for inmates at the local penitentiary in Piura. The class is supposed to outline basic business skills and work on self-esteem. "But, Ella," you say, "are you sure that you want to impart your um... business sense on anyone else?" Don't worry. I'm just going to use a curriculum that Peace Corps Volunteers working with small businesses designed. It outlines basic accounting, writing a business plan, and such. I'm not telling anyone how to spend their money. The self-esteem work comes in the form of group work and presentations. It's just 4 class days in June and afterwards the director and I will reassess, both what is being taught and who is teaching it. (I have a secret plot to try to get a small business volunteer placed there, working with my friend a who used to be the lawyer at Town Hall in Rinconada.)

I was shaken by how incredibly humane the conditions are in the jail/prison.(The two do not seem differentiated here. Inmates are imprisoned close to their families without much regard for the severity of their crime of the length of the sentence.) Rio Seco makes Riker's Island in New York look like Abu Gharib, not to put to fine a point on the matter. Inmates in Rio Seco cook together, eat together, and work together. Inmates speak to each other and the guards without any obvious cowering in fear. It's a small town, for better or worse. Every inmate that you pass tells you "Good afternoon," just as folks on the street in Rinconada do, and not just to me but to the janitors and the secretaries and guards. There are workshops for carpentry, artisanry, and even guitar making. On Sundays the powers that be open the jail up and visitors as well as shoppers from the surrounding community come to buy the inmates' products in a kind of jail-house-market, so inmates make a little money.

Rio Seco is like anyplace in Peru. Rules are much more about social morays than about regulations. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of rules and problems. As a visitor, I can't bring in my camera or cell phone and a myriad of other random and inexplicable things. Today when I went they wanted to keep my sunglasses, but I acted like I didn't understand the officer and said "No thank you ma'am," so she let me keep them. The day it started pouring down rain while I was there, I was wearing a white button down shirt with black stripes and a bright pink bra. I was trying to leave though the exercise yard at the moment of the downpour. It was like God got a giant bucket and wanted to play Peruvian Carnival. This caused quite a stir, I assure you, but quite frankly not any more of a stir than it would have caused on the street in Piura. In fact, it was a much more controlled stir because I felt like the guards were keeping an eye on me. Also, in the inmate population of about 2,500 men there are about 5 HIV positive inmates and 12 active tuberculosis cases. (Most Peruvians test positive for TB on the skin test and I probably will too after Peace Corps.) The jail/prison is badly over crowded; it was meant to hold 1,500, but currently holds 2,500 and this causes health and safety problems of all stripes. I'm sure that I'll find out more about the negative side of things as I work more closely with inmates, but as far as first impressions go, after about 5 visits now, I'm fairly impressed.

The current director has only been there for about 3 years and I'm told, has changed things dramatically. She is a psychologist and sees all the workshops, worship activities, and groups like AA as therapy. They talk the therapy talk at Rikers too, and there are a lot of good people at Riker's working hard to make life a little safer and easier for the 15,000 inmates, but it certainly feels like an uphill battle and it's much scarier to physically be there. In Rio Seco there are no lock downs requiring tens of officers to run into the dormitory areas in full riot gear. And there are certainly more cases of both HIV and TB in New York than in Piura. (Although as a percentage I think it might be comparable. I'm not sure. Riker's is so much bigger that it's hard to say.)

I got interested in working in the jails after I testified in a murder trial. My best friend/sister's husband was convicted of killing her about 5 years ago now. In Texas, the law lets victims put witnesses on the stand to attest to what great people the crime victims are so that the defendants look really bad and get worse sentences; they're called character witnesses. They're very controversial. When her dad and the DA asked me to testify it didn't even occur to me to think about saying no. It was the first thing that I could do for her mom and dad after her death that actually felt like it made any difference. I'm still glad that I did it. It was important for me too, as I was so angry and hurt and alone. But, after that I got really interested in what happens to inmates. I know it sounds like some kind of not all that subconscious guilt thing. But, I don't actually feel guilty. He got the maximum sentence possible for his crime, which was life in prison. In Texas that means the possibility of parole after 35 years. I think it's a just sentence, to be totally honest. On the other hand, I knew this asshole and sat across from him at Thanksgiving dinner more than once and whatever I think of him my sister loved him and he's the father of her son. Jailed guys get kind of forgotten and get talked about as scary monsters safely hidden behind big locks and chains. Some of them scare me. He should scare me and he does. On the other hand, I think that men like him need care and with it can maybe get better. I hope so anyway. I love his son with all my heart.