A Secret History of the Bangkok Hilton (6 page)

‘Here they are more or less left on their own. They are unlikely to be the subject of assault or to be victimised by the guards or the other inmates. I think they are in a better position here compared to at home where they would be treated as ordinary inmates. The weather is also a big factor. The weather in the UK is freezing cold compared to the warm weather in Thailand.

‘Of course, not all the British inmates feel this way about the treaty. I went to see one chap who had been transferred back to a fairly new prison. The place was modern, clean and private-run. Some of the guys had done a spell in UK prisons before and they knew what it was like to be locked up in a high security prison. Being transferred back to the UK is not the best option for some of them though.’

Most prisoners accept the punishment they are handed out, she says. ‘I’m sure they knew the law but they took a terrible risk, thinking they could get away with it. While I think the penalty for drug offenders here is too high, I understand it is the law of the land and I respect that. Foreigners are guests here, therefore we should follow the law of the land.

‘If you choose to live in a foreign country, you should be respectful to the hosts and their culture. It bothers me whenever another foreigner complains and moans about Thailand. If they don’t like Thailand, then they should go and live somewhere else. If you want to live here, you have to embrace Thailand entirely. I love how Thai people generally treat me with respect.’

Another veteran foreign inmate visitor told me there are other reasons why some convicts don’t want to be transferred back to their countries. Some had been long-term expatriates in Thailand living with Thai wives and children before they were incarcerated, so being sent back would mean uprooting the lives they have created here.

Some Africans don’t want to be sent back to their own countries simply because the prison conditions there are even worse. I have heard that some inmates regard Bang Kwang literally as the Bangkok Hilton.

The other factor, which is often overlooked, is race. In general, Caucasian foreigners are treated better in Thailand and they are given certain protection because the guards just let them be. If they go back to their own countries, they would be treated as ordinary inmates.

From talking to several farang volunteers, what seems to be a source of frustration for them is that the regulations on visiting are changed from time to time. Each director is different in terms of opening the prison to the outsiders. I’ve worked with one who invited comedians inside to entertain the inmates and another who didn’t even want anyone to take photos or videos of the prison from the outside.

Although they may differ in approach, all they want is that the prison runs smoothly during their tenure. The authorities make more rules as they go along because the inmates find new and clever ways to break the rules. At the time of interview, Gale told me no parcels were allowed to be sent inside because a mobile phone SIM card had been found hidden inside a pizza. This meant she could not take in ‘farang food’ such as tins of tuna or corned beef.

Sometimes Gale is told to change seats by prison guards a few times without giving her a reason before she can sit and talk. When she finally sits down, she finds that the phone doesn’t work and has to find another seat. Despite these little sources of frustration, she says the prison staff treat her group well in general and the inmates haven’t complained too much.

‘Thailand allows me to be more charitable. I can just go out and help people. You cannot do this in some developed countries due to red tape. Overall, it has been a humbling experience for me. I don’t volunteer to have people say I’m wonderful. I do it because I enjoy it and want to do it. And I also believe what goes round comes round. My father, who was a prisoner of war and an undertaker, told me the greatest gift you can give to someone is your time and I guess I heed his words.

‘When I get email from one of the chaps’ families in the morning, I’ll print it out to tell the chap he’s got a message from his family, reminding him that he has not been forgotten. It feels great being the bearer of good news and being in a position to help others. I think you can get much, if not more, from giving than receiving, seeing happy faces of those you’ve helped. I’m sure a lot of people would feel the same.’

Given that the authorities discover drugs hidden in incoming parcels for the inmates from time to time, the guards can’t be too sure about the motives of all the visitors. Officials at the Bangkok Hilton are on the lookout for any visitors who may be involved in the drug trade or illicit dealings—be they individuals or faith-based groups. Crackdowns on drug rings on the outside are sometimes linked to the drug trade inside the prisons.

Cynicism is prevalent. One charity group, which is staffed by Thais and Asians, is said to be running a money-making scheme. First, they tend to spend more time with rich inmates. Allegedly, the staff compile lists of items that the prisoners want and go about finding companies that can donate these items. They then fabricate receipts to show that they bought these items with donors’ money. So much for charity.

My last title at Bang Kwang was Chief of the Foreign Affairs division and it was a great opportunity for me to meet many westerners who had committed to helping inmates of their own nationality and others. Dealing with hardened criminals and piles of documents could be tedious, so meeting them was a pleasure.

I’m glad to call some of them my friends and have welcomed them into my life. They have worked with the Thai officials to organise many projects to improve the living conditions of the inmates. These individuals are the side of the Bangkok Hilton that should be told of more.

Chapter 5

Life Inside the Bangkok Hilton

Bang Kwang is a society like no other, with its own set of rules. Its residents, the inmates, vary in terms of fortune, background and nationality, with 40 countries represented.

There are small-time drug smugglers from tribal villages in the north of Thailand, Chinese drug barons, former army generals, high-ranking ex-police officers, a once-revered monk and at least three doctors.

Within this confined world, there is a class system, just like in the outside world. If you happen to be at the lower end of the scale, you may end up to doing demeaning things to survive because there is little support available.

The long sentences mean that, at best, prisoners spend many years behind bars. At worst, they never get out. So over time the support of their loved ones often fades away and they are forgotten or abandoned. Often Thai wives ask for a divorce or simply take new husbands so that they have someone to provide for themselves and their children. Some inmates vent their anger and resentment through self-harm: cutting their fingers, starving themselves or taking drugs. A few go as far as committing suicide.

Outsiders say life in Bang Kwang is cruel and there is a lot of temptation to engage in illicit activities, so you cannot expect the inmates to change. The odds are stacked against them.

However, I think these circumstances can be a true test of character. For those inmates who face down temptation and get by through honest means, it can be a way to reform. They have my respect.

As I have always said, not all the inmates are evil. People commit crimes for a number of reasons: rage, desperation, foolishness or greed.

Whatever landed them in the Bangkok Hilton says less about their character than how they choose to live when inside. There are many inmates who get by as honestly and productively as they can. The prison provides just the bare necessities of life, so the inmates have to use what skills they have to make a living.

Those who have legal expertise are in high demand as the hope of getting out occupies the minds of the detainees all the time. So a number have pursued law degrees while incarcerated. They give legal advice and write letters of complaint and petitions for individual royal pardon for the others. Most of those on death row hire their fellow inmates to write petitions for them instead of their lawyers, who they usually grow to mistrust.

Former Muay Thai (kick-boxing) practitioners teach others about the lethal martial art and also work as masseurs. The boxers have learnt how to massage so that they can relax the muscles and relieve pain. A good masseur can earn a decent income inside because there are plenty of clients, including prison guards. One who did this was Payak. Famed for his strong punch, he claims he hadn’t intended to kill anybody, though he was convicted of murder. Payak says he was enslaved by his addiction to a life of indulgence, which took every last satang in his pocket. When he needed money, he would rob somebody. His luck ran out when he tried to steal an expensive-looking necklace from a woman and she died during the struggle. He is now a sought-after masseur.

Fortune-tellers do well too because prisons are full of people who feel unlucky and are bothered by questions about their lives. They are paid in cigarettes, snacks or food. There same questions come up time and again. When will I be released? Will the next court dismiss my case? Will I receive good news about my individual petition for royal pardon? When will the next mass royal pardon come and how much of a reduction will I get in my sentence?

Prison guards also consult them about the possibility of promotion, family and love. Usually, after a reading the fortune-teller suggests the client make merit or go to see a monk for a blessing in order to improve their luck.

A lot of inmates are killers from impoverished backgrounds. They don’t have the support of their families who are scraping by just as they are. Some of them become cooks to make a living. It is a strange sight to see murderers covered in tattoos attentively selecting ingredients and cooking fried fish, curries and desserts. They order the ingredients from prison shops or from prisoners who work on farms.

One former hitman, who has killed a number of people, turned his hand to cultivating vegetables as he has no family that can help him out. He was on the run with his heavily pregnant wife when the police caught him. A few months into his incarceration, his wife left his child with his mother and never returned. His mother barely has enough money to support a young child, let alone her adult son. He says all the money he used to make from killing was cursed as if an unseen force compelled him to use up the blood money wastefully. Once the last satang was out of his pocket, he just took another job. So he had no resources to dip into while in prison.

Just when he was at his most desperate, as luck would have it, he noticed an empty plot of land in the compound near his building and this gave him an idea. He asked a guard for permission to create a vegetable patch. When somebody who used to kill people in cold blood for hefty fees starts cultivating food instead, that shows he is turning over a new leaf.

Generally, those who don’t have skills approach influential and wealthy inmates known as the khayai (big legs) and offer to be their servants. These big legs come from rich families or used to be high-ranking policemen or soldiers. They provide for less fortunate inmates in return for their services as cleaners.

The ‘servants’ wash clothes, dishes and tidy the master’s baan (house), which is really just the small space away from the cells the inmate has claimed ownership over and uses as a spot to relax during the daytime. A house can be a gathering place for inmates of the same group or nationality or even a ‘couple’.

Opportunistic guards try to get into the big legs’ good books as well. They befriend them for such reasons as career advancement or special favours. Big legs who used to be politicians, policemen, soldiers or state officials don’t lose their connections with bigwigs on the outside. They boast to the guards about their ability to pull strings to secure promotion or re-assignment for them to other places.

To validate their association, some guards claim to be related to big legs by blood or to have something in common with them such as coming from the same hometown or sharing the same ancestors hundreds of years ago. Some inmates are so wealthy and powerful, the guards end up offending each other while vying to impress them.

In Bang Kwang, not only is the character of each prisoner put to the test, but so is the character of each guard. More often than not, new guards are targets of inmates who try to befriend them, albeit with ulterior motives.

A guard’s first days in Bang Kwang can be intimidating and so the friendliness offered by the inmates can be welcome initially.

First, the prisoners try to find out where the newcomers are from so they can establish links with those from the same region. Each part of Thailand has its own dialect and it is easier for them to communicate in it.

To make the new guards warm towards them, the inmates offer to make coffee, prepare snacks and give them cigarettes. Slowly, any doubts the guards may have over the sincerity of the prisoners erodes. Once the inmates are sure the bond is strong enough, they start asking the guards to return their favours with small requests such buying items for them, contacting their relatives on their behalf or secretly sending letters for them to avoid the screening. The guards who are too naïve find themselves in a dilemma because if they fulfil these seemingly innocent requests, they will violate prison rules. If they refuse, however, they will be accused of being ungrateful. Kickbacks are offered in return for carrying out risky requests such as trafficking in alcohol, cash, mobile phones, narcotics or other prohibited items.

When I was in charge of the trustees, I arrested several inmates who were dealing drugs. One investigation led to two prison guards who had brought in the drugs. They said they needed a lot of money to get married. Given their low salaries, I could sympathise with them—but it doesn’t excuse their crimes.

Using information from trustees, I caught a number of drug-dealers inside Bang Kwang, until a senior prison guard told me off for arresting one of his dek (subordinates). He was offended that I had caused trouble for his guy. For all I know, the trustees may have been using me to destroy the networks of their rivals so that one drug ring could monopolise the trade inside. I realised then I could have put myself in danger so I was glad when I was reassigned to another division.

Inmates who befriend guards can also receive protection from bullies. Some prisoners boast about their wealth or the connections they have with important people on the outside to get the guards interested in them. To be on the safe side, some guards befriend them in case they might need a special favour in the future.

Those who have the resources often get their relatives to pay ‘protection money’ to the guards to ensure their safety. Others ask for a private meeting with a high-ranking officer to show that they have powerful connections. This ploy does not always work.

At one such a meeting, the inmate showed a business card to the warden. On it was the name of a bigwig, his rank and title. Obviously, the inmate wanted to convince the warden that he knew important people. The warden was not impressed by the card and said, ‘Since his big friend wants to entrust us with him we should make sure he is going nowhere. Shackle him.’

The inmate’s face dropped while the guards tried to muffle their laughter.

On the other hand, however, some flex their muscle successfully. One such inmate had his family get a high-ranking officer to visit him at the prison. Upon hearing of this, the warden arranged for him to meet the inmate in an air-conditioned office instead of the open-air visiting area and the warden himself joined them. Their conversation took place behind closed doors but what is certain is that the inmate’s status soared to new heights afterwards.

Those without resources or connections offer to work for the guards for free giving massages, washing clothes, shining shoes or buckles. Like I’ve said, the guards are nai (masters). It is a relationship based on indebtedness and gratitude. On the one hand, it can lead to illicit activities but, on the other hand, some guards have established respectful and amicable relationships with the inmates as well. I find it odd, though, when I see young guards joining the inmates in playing music or games of football or table tennis.

The Corrections Department does not approve of prisoners and guards getting too close. It could discourage this easily by offering better wages and conditions. Entry-level guards are paid badly and yet have to live with the daily temptation to make money through illicit deals. In times of need, people are more inclined to do take risks.

This is a sensitive issue because not all such relation-ships are interest-based and they don’t necessarily lead to illicit deals.

I remember one well-respected old guard who was very hands-on when it came to the welfare of the prisoners. He made sure they received equal portions of food and told the cooks not to favour their friends by giving them the choice pieces of meat while serving watery soup to the others.

When there were riots, the guards who had earned the respect of the inmates through their conduct were asked politely to leave the building. The rest of the time, they were given massages by young prisoners.

One senior guard in his fifties receives a massage on a regular basis. He changes his guard uniform for a
sarong
and sits in a foldup beach chair while his masseur, who is convicted of murder, manipulates muscles in his back and neck.

You probably wouldn’t let a killer get his hands around your neck. In Thai culture, however, it is considered very kind for a child to treat parents or grandparents who complain of bad joints to a massage. So this means the prisoner has come to see the guard as an older relative.

I think forming bonds with inmates is risky. There have been some incidents where the guards were penalised for fulfilling benign requests.

One incident involved a guard who was punished for phoning a family on behalf of an inmate to remind them that the deadline for submitting a request for an individual royal pardon was drawing near and if they missed it he would surely be executed.

Aside from opportunities to make a living, the prisoners can also get some education. Bang Kwang is like a multi-disciplinary school. There are official correspondence courses available through the Basic Education Commission Office and Sukhothai Thammathirat Open University. Prisoners can also learn practical skills at the prison factories or from other inmates that they may be able to use to rebuild their lives after prison.

One former doctor who murdered his wife taught other inmates to help out medical staff at the prison hospital. His license to practise medicine had been revoked and it was against the rules to allow him to do so, but the reality is that, despite his conviction, his knowledge remains. It would be a waste not to allow him to put it to good use.

Not all of them choose to be constructive. Some learn such skills as how to get rid of a body, to remove gun powder, to dismember a body, to pick a lock pick or to steal a car.

No wonder some inmates leave Bang Kwang worse than they were when they arrived. Most of the convicts are between 25 to 35 years old when they arrive and have to serve at least 30 years old in jail. So they have ample time to pick up new interests.

Being a servant may seem demeaning to some but some stoop even lower to survive by becoming
nong
(a term of endearment for female) of inmates who have the resources.
Nongs
are provided for by their ‘husbands’ in exchange for providing sexual relief. Of course, there are what Thai people call
kathoeys
(effeminate homosexuals or transsexuals) who assume the role of wife.

The difference between these two groups is that
nongs
identify themselves as heterosexual men. Most of
nongs
choose to go against their nature out of necessity as their families are unable to support them or have rejected them. A few choose to become
nongs
to fund their drug addiction, while some go down this path because it seems the easiest way for them to survive. They are in short supply so if not provided for well,
nongs
and
kathoeys
move on to more generous patrons. It is a seller’s market and buyers who make the best offer win.