I was in jail today, taking food and groceries to a prisoner. I also took him two dollars for something they call the cause and that corresponds to a payment that each inmate must make weekly. I think it is a jail of thousands of prisoners, so there is a big movement of money there every week. It's not like in the movies there, they don't feed the prisoners, the family members have to take care of that.
I can't help but feel sorry when I see young boys there, so young that they look like children. What could they have done to deserve to be locked up? Then I come back to reality and remember that the world is not like it used to be. Evil, perversions and bad decisions have invaded the souls of young people.
Male visitors are not allowed to enter, only to approach the fence to deliver things. There is a large yard, visible from the outside, where the prisoners wait for the "package" brought by their relatives. Today I saw that they cleared that yard and left the prisoners farther away, it becomes more difficult to recognize if the person is there waiting.
I was sure the man I was visiting was not there, but he already knew I was coming, so I waited. Half an hour later, I went over and asked them to call him. There is a checkpoint there where there are several officials in military uniform. That's on the outside, where I am. On the inside, at the same point, there are several armed prisoners who have a control that is difficult to understand.
Several minutes passed, but they did not call the man. I approached them twice more, in discrete periods of time, but they did not call him either. They seemed to gather merit for me to leave my mark, but it was still too early to judge them harshly, life in that place makes men hard and insensitive. It's a good excuse, but it doesn't work forever.
I stood in the middle of the sun, waiting. I just wanted to give them a chance to consummate their sin, that of indolent contemplation of the sad beggar burning under the sun, without them doing anything about it.
They looked at me and looked at each other. I sensed in them a glimmer of hope, they were not totally lost. After an hour and fifteen minutes, they asked me again for the prisoner's data. I heard one of them shouting the name, then another one, and then another. From time to time they repeated the voice pass. They did not forget the name anymore. They were very attentive to my case.
It was time for the deliveries to end. They asked me if the man had a phone to call him, I said no. I thanked them for their concern and said goodbye, leaving the visit of that day.
It was good to know that there was no need to call punishment for them, but I still leave something, a benevolent judgment, that was my footprint, they can use it to open doors. I leave, sunburned but happy to remember that humans, no matter how lost they are, can always right their steps by practicing compassion, and I will be there every time that happens.
Text credits: Amaponian Visitor (