Dragons & Butterflies: Sentenced to Die, Choosing to Live (92 page)

My house and all the other possessions I left behind I gave to the Israelis – another mistake, I realised in the days to follow.

Apart from my immediate cellmates, I never got the chance to say goodbye to the many Thais whom I had made friends with, and with whom I had coexisted for so many years. Everything was happening so fast. It took four of those wheelbarrow-type carts to transport my things. Saying goodbye and leaving what had become my home and comfort zone was suddenly devastating to me. I broke down in tears and bawled like a baby. What was I holding onto? I had always imagined that when I was released I would be able to take my departure at my own pace, saying goodbye to everybody and shaking their hands. Apart from my fight in 1999, until the Israelis arrived I had a clean record. I was now being forcibly removed, thrown out, for misconduct. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that this was for the greater good of things. But it had happened, and, as with so many other things in life, we don’t get to choose or necessarily accept the terms.

Four guards escorted me, pushing the carts, which we parked outside Building 6. Nobody checked or searched me on my way in. I carried with me my bed, a haversack containing toiletries and other personal items like my
siddur
and
tefillin
, a writing pad and a clipboard file. The rest of my belongings I was told I could collect in the morning.

It was around 5pm when I arrived. All the inmates had long since been locked up, but the entrance to the cells was open. I was put in a Thai room, which was also known as a transit cell for new arrivals. There were 18 Thais in the room, so not much space. I was given a spot near the door and squeezed my bed between two Thais. In fact, our beds overlapped and we were shoulder to shoulder.

Once I had settled down I went into the toilet, removed the dog from my underpants and barked my sister. It was early in South Africa. They were five hours behind Thailand. I didn’t want to risk barking for too long. I was now in unfamiliar terrain and I knew that getting bust with a dog would only spell disaster for me. Hurriedly, I informed Joan about the fight, told her that I was now in Building 6 and asked her to please call Elisabeth and tell her what had happened. Elisabeth should visit me on Tuesday, which was the official visit day for Building 6, and not on Monday.

I then went and lay on my bed. Looking around, I recognised some of the Thais who had at one stage or another been in Building 2. Nobody ever got moved on a weekend unless it was a serious fight. My reputation preceded me. I was well liked and known for my integrity and no-bullshit attitude. The Thais saw me as a Big Leg. If you had money, you warranted respect. Respect came in two forms: there was the assumed respect and then there was the respect you earned. I had earned mine, not only by putting in the years but also by being honourable in my dealings with all prisoners. I didn’t take shit from anybody, and I not only stood up for our rights but also fought for them, too. That night I struggled to sleep. I was restless and uneasy. I couldn’t help wondering whether my arrogance would in the end be my downfall.

They say a change of scenery can do wonders, and I had probably been in the same building for far too long, bored and frustrated with seeing the same faces day in and day out. Perhaps this move would be for the better.

About ten months earlier, I had attended an inter-building four-a-side football tournament. There I had met one of the new foreigners, a guy in his mid-twenties named Dani, who was in Building 6. He was from Kazakhstan and seemed like a really nice guy. At that time, we were only nine foreigners in our cell, and I had suggested to him that, in the event he wanted to change buildings and transfer to Building 2, he would be welcome to stay in my house and would also be guaranteed a spot in our private cell.

I already knew all the foreigners in Building 6, and when the cell was opened in the morning I immediately went looking for Dani, hoping he would help me out with a place to stay. Some of the foreigners were shocked to see me, no doubt wondering what I was doing in their building on a Sunday morning. While I was waiting for Dani, who slept late, the British guys invited me for coffee. Eventually, when Dani came down he welcomed me with open arms.

Previously, Dani had stayed with an Iranian and an Israeli. The Israeli had won his case and the Iranian had been granted a royal pardon after having served only seven years of his life sentence. Dani now stayed on his own. Times were bad, he said, and he was struggling to survive. In return for his hospitality, I offered to take care of all his meals. In addition, I also agreed to pay some of the debts he incurred.

Building 6 had a lot of Chinese inmates, one of whom was my good friend Paul, who used to own the coffee shop in Building 2. About a year before, when Building 2 was raided by the Department of Corrections, from what I could gather they had been acting on information and had specifically targeted the coffee shop. Paul kept a lot of money with him. Nobody ever suspected that the prison authorities would raid the coffee shop, so it was a safe place to hide your money. The Chinese also ran the casino, and large amounts of cash circulated among the big gamblers. During that early-morning raid, Paul was the only one who was removed from his cell. He was taken downstairs and told to open the shop. The authorities seized 700 000 Thai baht that morning, 200 000 of which was Paul’s own money. The balance belonged to his Chinese friends. Paul was never officially charged and, needless to say, the money simply disappeared. After that he was transferred to Building 6. Over the past year, with the help of his family, he had paid his friends back to the last baht.

Paul welcomed me as well, and he gave me two lockers to use in the meantime, with an option to buy them. The Chinese were all connected or knew each other, but, after learning about what had happened with me, Paul assured me there would be no revenge attacks. He would personally write to Chen Ming, he said, and for the sake of peace I also agreed to apologise. I was transferring to Israel soon; with my freedom so close, what did I have to lose by saying I was sorry? The truth was that I would stand to lose the most.

There were three foreign rooms in Building 6. One was a Nigerian full-sized cell like the one I’d had in Building 2; the second was a Western foreigners’ cell, which was a three-quarter-size room; and the third was a small room occupied mainly by Pakistanis. In the Western foreign room were a Dutchman, who was Jonnie’s co-accused and had basically taken the rap, two Brits, an Australian, Dani, a Chinese, a Nepalese and a Burmese. There was not much space for a ninth person.

Dani agreed to let me stay with him in his house. Because I wasn’t sure whether I could trust him completely, or whether he would freak out about my having a dog, I kept my mobile phone a secret. With the help of Dani and some of the other foreigners, I collected my belongings, which were still parked outside the entrance to Building 6. One of the young guards on duty half-heartedly checked my stuff. The guys were amazed at all the things I had, my excuse being that I’d been in prison for so long. Dani’s house was a lot smaller than mine had been. He gave me three lockers and half of a fourth one to store the things that I would use on a daily basis. The rest I stored in Paul’s locker, which was at the other end of this warehouse-type hangar that had about 20 houses, mostly owned by Chinese.

Another good friend of mine, a guy from Tanzania by the name of Dodi, also a fellow footballer and who had previously stayed in Building 2, had extended an invitation for me to stay in the Nigerian room, but only on the condition that I never barked the dog. The foreigners told me that they would have a meeting before they decided whether I could stay in their cell or not. It was a Sunday, so nothing could be done till Monday anyway. I would have to stay another night in the Thai room. I was not too perturbed about anything. In a sense, the change of environment was proving to be a distraction from the pressures and responsibilities I had had in Building 2, where I had got caught up in a structured routine that subconsciously had affected my way of thinking. While it got me through the day, and time passed relatively quickly, I had lost my spontaneity. Everything I did had to have a reason.

Dani had no chairs or cushions, and so we sat on a vinyl-covered concrete floor and ate our meals around a fold-up wooden table. First on my to-do list was to have a couple of cushions made, I decided. I have a small bum, and it got sore very easily. Monday morning arrived and I brought my bed outside first thing and put it in Dani’s house, not being sure where I was going to sleep that night. But soon after having coffee and taking my regular morning shower, Steve (the Brit) and the Dutchman, who was also the room chief, came to me and said that the foreigners had unanimously agreed to give me a place in their cell. I was humbled by their enthusiasm to accommodate me, realising that I was now a guest in this building and among inmates who would be my new friends.

On Tuesday morning, Elisabeth visited me. She was somewhat taken aback by what had transpired. I don’t think she quite believed I was capable of stabbing somebody. After the visit, while waiting to collect my foodstuffs, I bumped into some of the guys from Building 2. Apparently on Sunday morning my house had been looted. The Thais came in and took whatever they could get their hands on. I couldn’t see how this could have happened unless the prison authorities had instigated it. Something was wrong.

After three days, I told Dani about the dog. It was his house and I had to respect that. In the event that I transferred to an Israeli prison, I told him, I would leave the dog for him. Luckily, Dani didn’t have a problem with it. We both knew the risks involved, and I assured him that in the event that the dog was found by the prison authorities, I would take responsibility. In the meantime, we needed to find a good hiding place for it.

On Wednesday morning, I was called for a parcel around the same time that Building 2 finished their visit. The guys went mad when they saw me, hugging me and shaking my hands, and actually it was great to see them. Then I was told that, the day before, while the Israelis were sitting in my house, about ten samurai came with knives and threatened them, forcing them to pack their things and get out. At first, they thought I had arranged the attack, which obviously I hadn’t done. The whole situation could have been avoided if the Israelis had gone to the prison authorities first thing on Monday morning and explained that I’d given them my house, and at the same time either pledged or dropped an envelope with at least 10 000 Thai baht to the Building Chief. This was a Thai jail, where nothing was for free. If you wanted to own property, you paid the tax. All the same, I was sorry for the Israelis, and I blamed Shlomo, who should have advised them.

After speaking to my friends, on my return to my new building, I had barely unpacked the contents of my parcel when I was called over the loudspeaker to go to the gate. Waiting for me was the commodore in charge of our rooms and the foreigners from Building 2. The commodore took me aside and told me that the Israelis had been seen using a mobile in my house, so they, the authorities, had put a stop to it. He also told me that no charges would be brought against me for the stabbing. In return, he advised that I should not get involved in the matter of the Israelis and my house. I agreed and we shook hands. In the same vein, I urged him to make sure that the Israelis wouldn’t have any further problems. Making a deal with the prison authorities was out of character for me, but I didn’t feel guilty because the Israelis had already fucked up. Anyway, I was now in another building and there was not much I could do. My getting involved might be more of a danger to them than anything else.

On Thursday morning, after my visit, I bumped into one of the main samurai who had threatened the Israelis. I refrained from asking about the incident and let him do all the talking. He said he was sorry that I’d left Building 2 and for what had happened with the Chinese, adding that I should have got him to stab Chen Ming. This guy’s name was Tor. He was a youngster of about 29, tattooed all over and extremely dangerous. He was also a great footballer. There had been an incident a while back when Tor had attacked one of the British guys who was disliked by both Thais and foreigners. Single-handedly that time, I went to the British guy’s rescue and made sure they didn’t stab him. If I had not interfered, other foreigners would have run the risk of being attacked by Thais. I helped the Brit more out of a sense of duty than anything else. Anyway, I made it clear to Tor that the Israelis were my friends and that I didn’t want them to have a problem. He understood and we shook hands. I felt confident that they would be safe.

Later I learnt that three Chinese were put into my old cell, and that Shlomo had taken on the responsibility of room chief. I received a letter from Donald, my Burmese friend to whom I’d given my gym, saying he needed some cash to buy the weights that belonged to the Estonian. When the Estonian went home he gave the weights to Shlomo, who was now selling them. I sent Donald a note to tell him that I would sort it out with Shlomo and that he shouldn’t worry.