THREE
TIME STOOD still and sweat dripped off my body as I fell in and out of consciousness; this had to be one of the longest, most uncomfortable nights of my life. I shuffled around, trying to sleep and just as I was finding some peace, a piercing bell rang loudly in my ear. The others woke; the unbearable cacophony erupted once more and seemed even louder than before. Everybody reached for their cigarettes, lit up, took a long drag then blew smoke up into the air.
Once I was done coughing my lungs out, I wiped my eyes then started to stretch. Startled by several offended bugs, dropping from my shorts, I watched, shocked as they hurried away in different directions. My head was still sore from the heat and my aching body was now suffering as much as my nerves.
It wasn't long before the cell door slowly opened and three surly guards stood at the entrance. The inmates finished their smokes, rose and packed away their things into the corner of the room. I had nothing; not even a pair of flip-flops for my feet.
We were filed out and escorted through a dark, dingy hallway until arriving at a metal doorway that had more locks than Fort Knox. It was unlocked then pulled open with a creak. We stepped single-file down some broken steps to a yard and were met with the harsh humidity of Bangkok. My feet were black from the dirt and burnt on the hot stone of the sun-scorched yard. I took a breath of foul air. It tasted of shit, smelt like rotting garbage, but it was still good to be outside.
I saw some small, metal sheds to the left, an over- crowded rubbish area to the right and at the back were suspended troughs filling with water. I licked my lips and tried to control my raging thirst.
Following the others into a cramped dining shed, I took a metal tray and got in line. Two inmates, one with a ripped ear, the other with acne, stood behind a small table and dished out what they referred to as food. I was served a small scoop of brown rice with tiny squares of cabbage. Finding a table on its last legs, I brushed away some lively ants and sat alone. The rice smelt of burnt rubber, the cabbage was tasteless but it was food and I was famished.
After breakfast I walked over to the back of the yard, found a plastic bottle and filled it up from the trough. Warm, dirty water ran down my arm as I drank. It tasted like cat's-piss, but it was water and I was parched.
The others were stripping off, taking a bowl from a man with brown hair and beady eyes then stepping over to the troughs to wash. Following suit, I pulled off my sweaty clothes and stood naked feeling eyes on me. I tried to hide my modesty with my bottle and made my way over. 'Beady Eyes' held out his hand. I shook my head. He grunted, took a pen, scribbled something on his hand then handed me a bowl with a crack down the middle. I nudged my way in amongst the naked bodies and held my place. I reached up and scooped a bucket of water. It wasn't clear or clean and smelt like a sewer.
I was about to splash the water over myself when I felt a strange tickling sensation on my foot. I backed away and witnessed a huge, greasy black rat dashing off. I screamed, the others laughed - my wash was over before it had begun. I returned the bowl to 'Beady Eyes,' climbed back into my clothes and stepped away from the crowd.
I came across a cracked piece of mirrored-glass glued to the wall and stopped, saddened by the image that greeted me. My eyes looked heavy and tired; the blue had faded to grey and wrinkles I hadn't had before were now stretched over my forehead. My face was filthy and my hair seemed thicker, probably from the dirt.
Wondering what we were supposed to do now, I observed the others. Some were sat on the floor playing cards, others were gambling; throwing stones against the wall, some were sleeping on the floor like strays and others stood around talking.
As the sun grew stronger, I could feel it burning the sides of my arms and jabbing at the back of my neck. The Thais were unfazed but I was concerned and searching for shade. There didn't seem to be any shade and the sheds were now locked, so I resorted to sitting on the floor with my head down; one hand fending off mosquitoes, the other protecting my skin. It wasn't long before I grew hot, hungry and lonely. I feared sunstroke, starvation and insanity.
It felt like hours until the sheds were unlocked. I stumbled in for some food and was served some watery, vegetable soup by 'Ripped Ear.' It tasted of a sickly, sour-stew and smelt like gasoline. I finished quickly to avoid the taste, stepped over to the trough and filled my broken bottle.
It wasn't long before we were summoned back inside. I followed the others to our cell and it was made clear that we should return to the exact same spot as before. I remembered roughly where I'd sat; searched for my neighbour, but couldn't find him. Everybody was now in their place but me.
I stepped over the others, looked around and finally found my guy. I knelt down, eased back into my patch of dirty floor then felt something crawling up my leg. I shook off an angry cockroach and gained the attention of an old guy with oily hair and a flat, boxer's nose. He was sitting with a lady-boy who wore heavy make-up over a masculine face. She had anorexic legs, scrawny knees and was kitted out in a short, sleazy, red dress.
"You want blow job?" 'Boxer's Nose' offered.
I shook my head as 'Scrawny Knees' lowered her eyes to my groin. 'Boxer's Nose' laughed, slipped down his shorts then pulled 'her' head down onto him. He fixed his eyes on me as 'she' sucked him. I looked away.
Another man with a bushy beard was scooping up bugs from the floor, tossing them into his mouth and then swallowing them whole. If he missed, they ran down his beard to escape. He was quick, he would catch them, follow the same routine and they'd eventually meet their fate.
A prolonged churning in my gut along with bowel movements alerted me that I had to go. This would be my first time to use 'the hole' and I wasn't looking forward to it. I rose to my feet, stepped over the others and arrived at the dirtiest, smelliest hole I'd ever seen. Bugs were everywhere. I kicked them away, they came back - I gave up. I held my nose, took another look - I couldn't go. I was about to return to my place when my bowels rumbled then roared. I turned back, slipped down my shorts and folded my body into an undignified squatting position. I balanced, closed my eyes and tried to ignore the attention I was getting from the others.
Distracted by some strange, screeching noises beneath me, I dreaded to think what it was, clenched my bowels with urgency and finally managed to evacuate them.
Concerned by the thick, runny texture of my stool, I was more disturbed by the lack of any toilet paper, but blown-away by the half-filled bucket of water placed to the left. It smelt as if a dead animal had died inside and was decomposing at the bottom - it probably was.
My legs began to shake then ache from all the squatting and I knew I had to end this episode somehow. After a slow count of three, I quickly wiped my backside with the back of my hand, dunked it in the bucket, twice, shook it dry then pulled up my shorts. I stepped over the others, slightly relieved and returned to my place.
After another long night and very little sleep, I found myself out in the yard. Breakfast had been dreadful and the bugs as restless as ever. I'd spent most of the morning brushing them away then feeling completely exhausted, I'd fallen asleep.
I was in the midst of a dream when I was awoken by someone kicking at my feet. I wiped my eyes and glanced up at a heavily tattooed man through the rays of the sun. He was stocky and had a mean- looking face with blood-shot eyes - he looked high.
I thought it best to turn away but when I did, he started screaming at me in Thai. My heart raced as another tattooed man turned up with uneven eyes, black teeth and a bent nose. He glared down at me with a hostile stare and smiled evilly as the other Thai continued to scold me.
The shouting suddenly ceased. I scanned the yard for a guard - no guard. Unsure of what they wanted; I listened as they talked. 'High', then pulled down his shorts and hung his manhood inches from my face. Reaching for the back of my head, he took a firm grip and pulled me into position. I held my mouth shut tight and turned my head away. 'Black Teeth' made a fist and struck me hard on my head - it hurt. I reached up to protect myself and was almost crying as I waited the inevitable, too afraid to fight.
I was struck again - it stung. I turned my head to face 'High' and felt the tip of his manhood rub up against my lower-lip. My mouth stayed shut. I closed my eyes and braced myself - nothing happened.
I heard some Thai spoken but it wasn't from my attackers, it was in a softer tone. I opened my eyes and saw a farang was now sat on the floor next to me. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered it to the Thais. 'High' pulled up his shorts, snatched the whole pack then strolled away with 'Black Teeth.'
The farang turned to me, raised his hand to my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Are you alright?"
I sat there still shaking. "I will be."
"Take a minute to calm down."
I rubbed my eyes. "Thank you for saving me."
"No problem mate. What's your name?"
"I'm Michael." I reached out my hand to his. He took it and shook it. "I'm John."
He had a sympathetic, honest look about him, fair hair, deep brown eyes and a small, firm build. I guessed by the light wrinkles on his forehead and the occasional grey hair that he was in his forties.
"Where did you come from?"
"I was moved from another cell." "How long have you been here?"
"Ten years. Have you just arrived?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"It takes time to adjust."
"How has it been for you?"
"Tough. The heat, the lack of decent food and never enough water, I was ready to give up."
"What got you through it?"
"I met a guy who introduced me to Buddhism. It showed me a new appreciation of life."
"Sounds like a worthwhile religion."
"It's not a religion if you follow it right. It's kept me alive. Have you ever tried meditation?"
"I can't say I have."
"It will calm you; help distract you for a while. Would you like to try?"
"I guess we have time."
"We have nothing but time."
John smiled then suddenly looked serious as he began. "Straighten your back and breathe as deeply and as slowly as you can."
I couldn't focus. My grandfather came to mind; this would be the sort of mantra he'd rehearse. "How are you feeling?"
"Better thanks, but my mind keeps drifting."
"It will at first."
"Can we try this again later?"
"No problem mate. What came to mind?"
"….My granddad, Nigel. He's into meditation."
"Sounds like an interesting guy. It's good that you have family to focus on while you're here."
I flinched at a cockroach. John laughed. "You'll get used to all the bugs."
"What about infections?"
"You stay strong physically and mentally, your body will take care of itself and meditation can help cool you down…..how you doing for money?"
"I don't have any."
"You contacted your embassy?"
"I haven't, no."
"They would have been informed. They'll send you some cash while you're inside. It may take a while, but if you leave your ATM card with a guard, he will eventually sort you out."
"I don't have my card and I already owe a guy."
"I'll take care of that."
"Thanks. I'll pay you back when I can."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"How long you in for?"
"I got life."
"That's tough."
"I'll tell you why I'm here if you really want to know, but I warn you right now, I'm not an innocent man. I'm serving time for my crime."
"Have you made many friends?"
"Not really and I can speak Thai."
"Has that helped?"
"I can talk my way out of trouble."
"What do the Thais think about us?"
"Not much, but they think we have money."
"What if we don't?"
"You don't do well without it, not here."
"I've seen vouchers. How do they work?"
"Almost everything is paid for with vouchers or coupons that you buy from a guard." "How are the guards?"
"Lazy bastards that have trusted inmates called 'trusties' or 'blue-shirts' working for them."
"Do they ever get rough?"
"Not if you pay. The poorer inmates are beaten."
"That's sad. What can you do about that?"
"I find its best not to get involved and besides it's so hot out here, it never lasts long."
"Can you buy sun cream?"
"No sun cream or condoms, just in case you're looking at the lady-boys. There's plenty of AIDS lingering about and every STD you can imagine."
"Can I at least get a razor and a tooth brush?"
"You can buy disposable razors, toothbrushes, paste, soaps and similar stuff at a stall near the laundry. They open it every Friday."
"What about toilet paper?"
"I've never seen that in here. Thais don't use it."
"You never told me why they moved you here."
"I pay a guard so I can move every few months.
I've been looking for someone to talk to."
"I'm glad you arrived. I was about to be raped."
"It looked that way and don't ever cry in here. You show weakness, you will get raped."
As the sun poured down, we talked about the rules of the prison, or rather he talked and I listened. I was glad to have found a friend.
"That's enough about that," he concluded.
"Why don't you tell me why you're here?"
I considered sharing and figured I should tell him something.
"You want the long or the short?"
"What do you think?”