My Panamanian Prison Adventure

[Bilbodoggins]

Part II: "You're going down..."

From the street, Carcel Modelo in downtown Panama looks like any police station in a moderate size city. You can't see the actual 3 story prison behind the entry and the lobby.
We were escorted inside and told to sit on a bench near the front desk. We were not handcuffed or searched and nothing was taken from us at that time. We sat there. And sat there some more as they did shift change and all the guards who were there when we were brought in left, to be replaced by new ones. We were there for several hours and no one seemed to be paying any attention to us. In fact, I had the idea that if I just casually stood up and walked out the door no one would notice. I didn't have the guts to try it though.
At this point we were not taking the whole thing seriously, as we were sure that any moment now someone from the Navy would come and get us. But then it got ominous...
We were brought to a window and a man said, in heavily accented English, "Put your belongings in these envelopes, because you're going down!"
We got very quiet. Suddenly I was really scared. No more fantasies of walking away.
We were led down a stairway to a large room with no windows and bars on the doors. It was about the size of a school lunchroom, but ot was absolutely bare except for the fifty some people sitting around on the floor by the walls or against a few concrete pillars here and there. There was a dark opening in the back of the room which we discovered was the bathroom, with two concrete commodes and a sink. The four of us tried to avoid going in there as long as we could, but eventually had to chance it, going in pairs.
We spent two days in that room, gradually getting to know some of our "housemates," who were all there for minor crimes and drug possession.
On the second day a man was brought in who some of the folks seemed to know and who seemed very angry, cursing loudly in Spanish. We learned that he had just been to trial and had been sentenced to two years for possession with intent to sell marijuana.
I watched as he took a cigarette from his pocket and it broke in half before he could light it. I was sitting near him and I took a pack of Marlboro out of my pocket and slid it across the floor to him. He took one out and started to return the pack but I motioned for him to keep it. He looked at me suspiciously for a moment but then accepted it with a nod. I did not know it at the time, but I had just made an important ally.

To Be Continued...

[BCR]

Part II: "You're going down..."

From the street, Carcel Modelo in downtown Panama looks like any police station in a moderate size city. You can't see the actual 3 story prison behind the entry and the lobby.
We were escorted inside and told to sit on a bench near the front desk. We were not handcuffed or searched and nothing was taken from us at that time. We sat there. And sat there some more as they did shift change and all the guards who were there when we were brought in left, to be replaced by new ones. We were there for several hours and no one seemed to be paying any attention to us. In fact, I had the idea that if I just casually stood up and walked out the door no one would notice. I didn't have the guts to try it though.
At this point we were not taking the whole thing seriously, as we were sure that any moment now someone from the Navy would come and get us. But then it got ominous...
We were brought to a window and a man said, in heavily accented English, "Put your belongings in these envelopes, because you're going down!"
We got very quiet. Suddenly I was really scared. No more fantasies of walking away.
We were led down a stairway to a large room with no windows and bars on the doors. It was about the size of a school lunchroom, but ot was absolutely bare except for the fifty some people sitting around on the floor by the walls or against a few concrete pillars here and there. There was a dark opening in the back of the room which we discovered was the bathroom, with two concrete commodes and a sink. The four of us tried to avoid going in there as long as we could, but eventually had to chance it, going in pairs.
We spent two days in that room, gradually getting to know some of our "housemates," who were all there for minor crimes and drug possession.
On the second day a man was brought in who some of the folks seemed to know and who seemed very angry, cursing loudly in Spanish. We learned that he had just been to trial and had been sentenced to two years for possession with intent to sell marijuana.
I watched as he took a cigarette from his pocket and it broke in half before he could light it. I was sitting near him and I took a pack of Marlboro out of my pocket and slid it across the floor to him. He took one out and started to return the pack but I motioned for him to keep it. He looked at me suspiciously for a moment but then accepted it with a nod. I did not know it at the time, but I had just made an important ally.

To Be Continued...

I would have had to try this. Especially with a pack of smokes in my pocket. Just step outside, pause for a moment and light up a cigarette and see if they notice. If they did and were right behind you, play ignorant and act like you just stepped out for a smoke.

Back then, if they didn’t immediately notice and you had been able to catch a cab to your ship or base, would you have been home free or would they have handed you back on the off chance the locals came asking about you?

If I thought I was home free if I make it to the base, seems worth the shot.

Of course they might have just shot you.

[Bilbodoggins]

Part II: "You're going down..."

From the street, Carcel Modelo in downtown Panama looks like any police station in a moderate size city. You can't see the actual 3 story prison behind the entry and the lobby.
We were escorted inside and told to sit on a bench near the front desk. We were not handcuffed or searched and nothing was taken from us at that time. We sat there. And sat there some more as they did shift change and all the guards who were there when we were brought in left, to be replaced by new ones. We were there for several hours and no one seemed to be paying any attention to us. In fact, I had the idea that if I just casually stood up and walked out the door no one would notice. I didn't have the guts to try it though.
At this point we were not taking the whole thing seriously, as we were sure that any moment now someone from the Navy would come and get us. But then it got ominous...
We were brought to a window and a man said, in heavily accented English, "Put your belongings in these envelopes, because you're going down!"
We got very quiet. Suddenly I was really scared. No more fantasies of walking away.
We were led down a stairway to a large room with no windows and bars on the doors. It was about the size of a school lunchroom, but ot was absolutely bare except for the fifty some people sitting around on the floor by the walls or against a few concrete pillars here and there. There was a dark opening in the back of the room which we discovered was the bathroom, with two concrete commodes and a sink. The four of us tried to avoid going in there as long as we could, but eventually had to chance it, going in pairs.
We spent two days in that room, gradually getting to know some of our "housemates," who were all there for minor crimes and drug possession.
On the second day a man was brought in who some of the folks seemed to know and who seemed very angry, cursing loudly in Spanish. We learned that he had just been to trial and had been sentenced to two years for possession with intent to sell marijuana.
I watched as he took a cigarette from his pocket and it broke in half before he could light it. I was sitting near him and I took a pack of Marlboro out of my pocket and slid it across the floor to him. He took one out and started to return the pack but I motioned for him to keep it. He looked at me suspiciously for a moment but then accepted it with a nod. I did not know it at the time, but I had just made an important ally.

To Be Continued...

I would have had to try this. Especially with a pack of smokes in my pocket. Just step outside, pause for a moment and light up a cigarette and see if they notice. If they did and were right behind you, play ignorant and act like you just stepped out for a smoke.

Back then, if they didn’t immediately notice and you had been able to catch a cab to your ship or base, would you have been home free or would they have handed you back on the off chance the locals came asking about you?

If I thought I was home free if I make it to the base, seems worth the shot.

Of course they might have just shot you.

I've wondered about that myself. This was the Woodstock era and we were young, well-educated, highly skilled technicians pretending to be radicals. The Navy, especially the older generation was none-too-pleased with us. They might have seen this as a way of punishing us by giving us to the Panamanians.
The national Guard was not just shooting people yet. That came later with Noriega.

[Kalam]

Subscribed

[sonatine]

wow karen's rebrand is going great.

[1dollarboxcar]

not so patiently waiting for part 3 lol

[Bilbodoggins]

Part III: DENY EVERYTHING!

After two days in the holding cell they bring the 4 of us to the regular prison. This is a three story building with a long hallway or "galleria" with about 10 cells on each side, on each floor. So 60 cells, if my memory is correct. There is also another building somewhere behind us but I know nothing about so I won't be talking about it.
The first floor seems to have mostly "white collar" criminals and political prisoners. The second floor is gang members and more violent street criminals. The third floor, where we are taken, houses foreigners, drug busts, and other low level criminals.
Each cell has four canvas bunks bolted to one wall. These are occupied by either the senior or toughest of the 16 prisoners assigned to the cell. The rest of us sleep on the concrete floor. We are so cramped that if I wanted to turn over in the night, I had to do it within the space of my body. I noticed that my floor mates were sleeping on rolls made up of flattened cardboard boxes. Some inmates worked in a supply room and would sell or trade the boxes that came in with supplies. After a few days I had a roll madr up of about 6 layers of boxes. During the day we would roll them up with whatever possesions we had (jacket, toothbrush, magazines, etc.) and put them against the wall. During the day we were free to move around the galleria, visiting in other cells, or go out into the yard, which looked much like what you see in "The Shawshank Redemption." At night you could sit out in the hall in front of your cell if the crowding got to be too much. One night one of my friends, who was in a different cell, came and asked me to sit outside with him because one of his cellmates was trying to molest him.
If you wanted to use the bathroom during the night you had to ask permission, which you did by shouting, "Cabo! llave?" to the guard at the galleria entrance.
One day somone from the US military came to see us. He told us they could not help us, and that we would be assigned a Panamanian lawyer. The next day the lawyer came and told us we had not been charged yet and there was nothing he could do until that happened. He also said, "Deny everything." I thougt, but didn't say, "We're Americans but we're not stupid".

Then, things took a frightening turn. Someone on my floor apparently didn't like me, because suddenly two guards came and took me to a cell on the second floor, where the more violent criminals were, and where I was the only gringo. Seperated from my friends and the mostly mild-mannered prisoners I was getting to know, I felt very scared and lonely. The first two nights on the second floor I slept sitting against the wall outside my cell becuse I was too afraid to go inside.

To Be Continued...