So I wasn't going to be looking for any pity if this little adventure didn't work out right. Let me set this up for a second so we are all on the same page. San Pedro Prison is located in La Paz, Bolivia and is the only prisoner run prison in the world. And I mean entirely prisoner run. The only guards are on the outside controlling the gates, that is it. All life inside the prison walls is left entirely to the prisoners. Seeing that this was such a unique opportunity to see this sort of institution, Sam, Amanda, Becky and I all decided on trying to get a tour of the prison. Thing is, all tours have been shut down and it is technically illegal to get a tour. But we were in Bolivia, so what that really means is pay a bribe to the gaurds and you can get in. So here is why I wasn't expecting any pity if this adventure went wrong: I was walking into a prisoner run prison, with no guards on the inside, to get an illegal tour of the grounds...by prisoners...in a real prison...see where I am going?
Waiting in the plaza outside the prison.
Now to be fair, the prisoners were awesome guys and we were treated well. In fact, every presuppostion you have right now of prison and how it works you might as well throw out. This is like no other prison on the planet, and I was surprised by what I found. That didn't matter going in though; we were nervous, sick to our stomachs in anticipation. What lay on the inside was unkown territory to us, and every presupposition we had of prison, mostly all negative, were bouncing around through our heads.
What had been arranged with the guards is that people would go in two by two every hour. We arranged all the details over the phone, which was quite an experience. The first time I called I couldn't really believe that I had just called a prison and spoke to an inmate. Anyway, Sam and Becky went first, so Amanda and I passed the hour by eating chicken at a restraunt (Despite the nerves, I was still famished). Two hours later we were still waiting for Sam and Becky to come out. I was starting to get worried and about to call when one of our phones rang and Sam and Becky said to come in. Apparently it was an all day tour.
Sam and Becky, about to go in.
So Amanda and I went to the entrance. Another condition of coming in was that we were visiting family, not friends, and we said we were cousins of one of the inmates. We had talked to two guys over the phone, Stuart and Kenneth, two South Africans. Sam and Becky had said they were family to Stuart so Amanda and I said we were visiting our cousin Kenneth. Now, Amanda is as British as they come, me a typical white American, and it turned out Kenneth was a black South African. Cousins? Not likely. Actually, not even not likely. No chance in a million years. Apparently these details aren't important in Bolivia, as long as the payment comes through.
The entry way consisted of a defunct metal detector, two gaurds to sign you in, and a locked barred door opened by key. The gate was crowded with other travelers there to do the tour, and had broken the tow by two rule about coming in. Officially, every prisoner is allowed two family visitors at a time, and even if the family rule could be bent, the two visitor rule could not. So there was this awkward wait while 8 gringos stood waiting to get in and the head guard was saying to the prisoner guides that they couldn't come in. Luckily our man, Stuart, was able to get us in. He handed me a letter that said I was a cousin to some dude inside and my name was Andrew. Fair enough, except I had just signed in seconds ago with my passport under my name. But agian, details are unimportant apparently. Amanda and I managed to be let in but the other six were turned away.
Prison tour.
We walked through the barred gate into a courtyard with tables, stair benches, and some small snack stands offering food and drinks. Again, we were now in another world. Only prisoners, their guests, and their families were inside the prison walls. They ran everything, from the snack stands to the gym to settling disputes. Everything. A barbeque was lit and some meat slow cooked on a grill, as the prisoners/family/guests sat and talked, paced the courtyard, and children ran playing across the grounds.
We were lead up a narrow ladder into an inmate's cell by the name of "Johnny Walker," as he introduced himself. We met up with Sam, Becky, and some other travelers who had come in. The "cell" consisted of a small kitchen, space for a dining table, a bedroom, and a bathroom. You could even flush toilette paper down the toilette, a luxury you don't have in any South American country. We spent most of our time in that room, but not all. We were shown a tour of the grounds, but not before ordering from the prison menu. We were offered food, soda, water, beer, pot, and cocaine. What's more, is the one beer I ordered cost me 25 bolivianos, compared to the 10 Bs it was for a joint and the 20 it cost for four lines of cocain. Welcome to prison.
Beer in prison.
On the tour, we were shown the area called La Posta, the upper class area mostly full of gringos apart from the general prison population. We never went into general population as Stuart told us our safety could not be garunteed. (I just took his word that my safety was currently garunteed in their section). La Posta consisted of the courtyard, various cells, a rec room, complete with pool table, dice table, and poker table, a bathroom/wash area built by traveler's donation that had been on the tour before, a gym, and even a therapy room at one point. It was later converted into a cell as space became limited. Stuart's cell consisted of a bedroom and bathroom, with a stove and oven he had built to do some of his own cooking. We were also shown the penthouse of the place, a two story cell owned by a Columbian drug lord, at a going rate of US$14,000 to be bought. Unbelievable, considering this was a prison. The guy who owned it apparently was caught with two planes, as in 737 size, full of cocaine. There was the pilots seat, the copilots seat, then the rest was cocaine. That is a lot of cocaine. From the upstairs' window it was 25 feet out and 45 feet down to the prison wall, or freedom as Stuart put it. He had measured the dimensions. Apparently at one point he had an escape plan, but word got out and additons to the complex put in by the guards thwarted his attempt. Stuart himself has been in out of prison all his life, serving 20 years altogether. He was even sentenced to death in Pakistan, but was the first white christian to ever be set free. He said that was the only time he was every truly scared in prison. Most of the other inmates had served less time, and didn't want to do a day more. They don't know how Stuart had managed. I don't either.
After the tour of the grounds we went back to Johnny's cell. There we talked with the inmates, ate food and drank refreshments, looked at pictures of past groups, listened to stories about the groups as well as some of Johnny's travels, and just passed the time sitting around and talking. None of the guys would admit any guilt but one, who had taken a sentencing, and no one was supposed to talk about anyone else's history. You couldn't get much out of them about their histories or what they had done. They were eager to show us they were just people though, not any better or worse than the people outside. I think that is important, to think of inmates as people, not the sometimes over villanized people society makes them out to be. I didn't agree however with their claims to innocence. Through talking to them it became clear quite a few of them had been picked up with drugs on them, and was the reason why they were there. Whether or not they agreed with the law they had broken, fact is, they broke that law, and were therefore guilty of breaking that law. But admitting to breaking any law or using the word criminal were definitely not welcomed by any of them. It was a very interesting, educating experience to be with them though. That is for sure.
Now hardened "criminals"
Around 5 that afternoon we left the prison. It was good to be on the outside again, in the free world. I think that was something I would never understand about their situation, the fact that they couldn't just walk out those prison doors anytime they wanted. It was a very surreal experience to be inside that prison, and one I will not soon forget, although I may be analyzing all the events of that day for many days to come.
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