Watching an episode of the police procedural "The Rookie" which was set in a penitentiary brought memories when I found myself in similar premises. Just to be clear, I have never been incarcerated. But somehow, I've found myself inside jails as a civilian.

Yes, I have been inside twice: first when I was still discovering who I am and what the world held for me; and second, when I knew who I was and learned the world could be quite cruel, regardless if you're a lawbreaker or not.

Immersion exercise

The first time I set foot inside a prison facility was at 14. (I very nearly didn't get to go because my folks were apprehensive about me entering jail, and I needed a signed permission). It was for an immersion activity of a summer theater workshop program. One of the things they teach in theater is being able to get inside the head of the character you will be playing. And the best way to do that is exposure to different kinds of people, and listening to their stories.

Speaking to inmates was certainly eye-opening. You first learn about the circumstances that landed them in jail, including their background and life experiences. Then you are regaled (in case you get to talk to someone who's good at telling stories) with their life behind bars.

Not everyone is as forthcoming, of course. There are those more willing to share what they've been through, as part of their reformation, while others still have yet to feel remorse and will be reticent.

We were ushered to the medium security compound, which houses criminals with short sentences or those who have a few more years left of their sentence to serve.

Since there were at least 20 from our group, the area where our activity was to take place was a high-ceilinged room, that seemed cavernous to me at that time. They had pushed back double-decker beds to make space where we could all sit on the floor.

Interaction with inmates

When we arrived, as is protocol I guess, the male and female inmates were already seated and looked at us with a myriad expressions on their faces. I don't know if they've done this before, although I do know the theater company has. They might have been a different set of inmates, thus the reaction.

Was I nervous? That I was stepping inside prison and talking to people who had committed crimes, not really. I was more anxious about HOW to talk to people because I was still painfully shy back then. If I didn't muster the courage to engage at least one person, I would've been a failure and the activity a waste for me!

I followed our facilitators, who were quite comfortable with the crowd, and slumped on the floor. Some of the workshop participants who were more outgoing that I struck up conversations with the inmates next to them. I would have happily just listened in on their exchange, but I was required to write my experience and interaction after the activity.

I finally turned around and found an inmate seated about two feet away from me. He was quiet, and watched everyone else talking. Mentally, I took a deep breath and started making small talk.

He was receptive, and offered a few words. I found confidence and chatted with him more. He became more comfortable, and was later sharing how he ended up there. I don't quite recall his name. But I do remember he was miserable retelling his story.

I think he was in for theft and assault. However, it wasn't the first time he was caught for the crime, thus his sentence. He still had a few more years to go. I think what made him despondent was the fact that he rarely got any visitors. When he mentioned that, I was suddenly relieved that we came, and I spoke to him.

The feeling it left me

With so many people talking at the same time, and some laughter interspersed with the conversations, the noise that bounced around the room was both comforting and disturbing.

Disturbing because it made conversation a bit difficult since you had to talk over everyone to be heard. We could not break up and go some place quieter. Comforting because there was no sense of danger or hostility in spite the surroundings we were in.

When the activity was announced to the workshop participants, we were asked to bring a couple of things to give to the inmates. Canned goods, toiletries and even a shirt or two. It was sort of a thank you gift for their agreeing to talk to us. Can't remember what I had in my bag, but it was met with a grateful smile when I handed it over before leaving.

In remembering that experience now, I can't help but feel emotional. Like his name, his story is a blur. It was more the feeling when I was there and listening to a man who admitted he was sorry for his actions and how much he wanted to be back with his family. The fear, however, was being accepted once he finished serving his sentence. By his family, his friends, and society.

Jail excursion #2

The next time I would set foot inside a jail facility was for an interview I was conducting with a prison doctor. This time, it was a city detention center. I didn't expect to head out there, but a sudden activity required my subject to be there and he had no other available time before my deadline.

There was to be no interaction with inmates. But the only place where we could talk was inside a small medical laboratory that was three floors up, and would require navigating an area where prisoners converged.

I've long known the problem with the prison system in our country. Too many criminals, insufficient space to house them all. The turtle pace by which cases were being resolved was the main culprit for jail congestion.

The din once I stepped inside the cramped facility had my heart pounding. That I had to maneuver myself through narrow, makeshift staircases clanging under my shoes did not ease my anxiety. Some of the inmates freely roaming the area were polite enough. Still...

Crowded, overcrowded

When I reached the second level, this gave me full view of a courtyard where thousands of inmates were cramped, each trying to squeeze themselves under a shaded portion. The problem was only a fourth of the courtyard was covered.

The facility was constructed to hold less than a thousand inmates. It had a population of three or four thousand at that time. At night, because there weren't enough beds, they would spread out in the yard and find a space to sleep. Often, they needed to take turns lying down.

A room for prisoners with medical conditions, like tuberculosis, further reduced quarters allocated for inmates. I can't even imagine what their mess hall looked like, or if they even had one given how limited the space is for the entire prison facility.

In speaking to the prison doctor and nurses, who hung around during the interview, I learned they all needed to undergo a year of training before finally being accepted as prison staff. The training was primarily to prepare them for common conditions and situations inside the facilities, like riots. Many applicants never complete that training.

Inside that 10-square meter room that passed for a medical laboratory, I felt cocooned from the harsh conditions of the jail facility. But the stories I heard still made me admire the staff more. They did more than deliver medical services amid risks to their lives.

At the time of the interview, I was told a bigger location was being allocated for the facility to help decongest it. I never heard if that plan pushed through.

Watching "The Rookie," one dialogue of an inmate, as advice to the juveniles who were being under a scare program, was that when you enter prison, you can't afford to be a human being. That is a very depressing reality. Yes, felons must pay for their crimes. But is not the purpose of incarceration reformation? How can anyone reform under situations where you lose humanity from the moment you step in?

It's not a perfect world we live in. And many people are still predisposed to being or doing evil. Perhaps, if more of us practiced basic humanity, there may be less of that evil.

Lead image: courtesy of International Committee of the Red Cross