Kolbe Foundation

I visited the prison from time to time as a shipping agent when a stowaway had escaped from one of the ships we represented. The prison then was located not far from where I live now. It was a great, dismal Victorian brick building with enormous, clanging iron gates. Treatment of the prisoners dated back to that era, too.

In an effort to improve living conditions, a new prison was built a few miles outside Belize City. Even so, Government quickly realized that, because of endemic corruption and fraud, they could not manage the facility. The Rotary Club of Belize City set up and funded a foundation to manage the prison. The new Kolbe Foundation, named for the patron saint of prisoners, set out to build a place of “help and healing.”

A long-time friend, John Woods, is the head of the Kolbe Foundation. His wife, Marta, and Carli have been friends since the early 1960’s. At their high school reunion in the July of 2004, Marta told Carli and María about a prison report John was working on, and they volunteered my services to help him.

August 2004

John Woods was pleased with my first editing of the prison report. Other officials suggested additions, which probably will involve some reorganization and further editing. I feel more comfortable altering things in the report now that I have learned that John didn’t write it. He expects to get the new material to me tomorrow.

On Tuesday, John took me out to visit the prison. I am overwhelmed at how much Kolbe has accomplished with very little money. It would be a shock to anyone familiar with U.S. prisons. The prison is a series of one- or two-story buildings with lots of space for playing fields for the various cell-blocks and a circular pool created from the great hole dug to provide fill. John explained that cells are unlocked except when a prisoner locks it himself. Inmates are free to move about within their own compound. Wire fences, not walls surround the prison and enclose the various compounds. Of course there are watchtowers with sharpshooter / guards. However, aside from a couple of men soon after the handover to Kolbe, the inmates do not try to escape.

When Kolbe took over, the kitchen was a horror. It was a little shack with an outdoor fireplace. Cats by the dozens roamed on the uneven floor, fighting the cockroaches for space. Food in great pots was stirred with shovels, which then were tossed onto the ground. Food was delivered to the inmates in wheelbarrows. If the prisoner had a plate, food was slopped onto it. Otherwise food was ladled into his outstretched hands. Unbelievable corruption in kickbacks and stealing severely limited the funds and supplies available for feeding inmates.

Now the kitchen is a large, airy room adjacent to a mess hall. The floor is tiled. Bread is baked in an enormous oven. Six gigantic pots simmered on a long stove. I saw four inmates shaping dozens of trays-worth of the fist-size rolls. The speed and precision with which they worked was fascinating to watch. They all looked like regular Belize “street boys,” but they were clean, wore caps, seemed pleased to have visitors, and were openly polite.

John said that the prison kitchen is the largest in the country. A few weeks ago, the Rotary Club were invited for lunch at the prison. Most of the men went reluctantly. They were amazed at the quality of the food.

Recently, one of the government ministries asked John if he could cater a lunch for 600 people. John laughed and said that if the prison kitchen could feed approximately 1,400 people three meals a day, it would have no trouble with the job. The meal was a big success, and the prison cleared $1,500 on it. John hopes to encourage more catering as a fund-raiser.

A large garden supplies vegetables. Chickens are raised for meat and eggs. Prison-raised pigs supply pork. Prisoners tend all of these projects.

The government pays $12 (equivalent of us$6) per day per prisoner. That covers meals and staff pay. Kolbe has to come up with funds for maintenance, operations, and improvements.

Everywhere we went, inmates greeted John or waved. He called many of them by name and introduced me to both staff and prisoners as we went along. The atmosphere was pleasant, and the men, friendly. I never had a moment’s apprehension.

John even took me on a tour of the maximum-security section. Most of the inmates were outside their cells, lounging against the walls or sitting on small wooden benches. John stopped and spoke to most of them, usually introducing me. One of the men invited us inside his cell. It was tiny but neat. As John had explained to me, these cells, designed for two men, housed as many as a dozen in the past. Most of them slept without cover on the damp cement floors. Now every inmate has a bed, sheet, pillow, and blanket.

As we went along, I shook hands with most of the men. As we advanced down the walk, many more waited with their hands out so that I wouldn’t skip them. I had brief conversations. Most of the men were friendly. An occasional one glowered. I shook their hands anyway as if I had not noticed their blank stares. John told me later that, as I moved on, he could see the change in their expressions after having been treated to ordinary courtesy.

Several prisoners took a moment to tell me how the new prison routine had changed them, most of them explaining that they had found God. Becoming religious is not unusual in prison and often doesn’t survive release. However, in keeping Kolbe’s focus on “health and healing,” the prison radio station is on all day long, broadcasting religious music, sermons by people the caliber of Billy Graham, plus some of the hip-hop the inmates like. The man running the station, Sebastian Biser, a fine looking, well educated man serving a long sentence, accompanied us on our tour of the prison. At the end, we saw his new studio. It is an air-conditioned corner room overlooking the pool. Equipment was impressive, as was the library of CD’s.

The studio is in the newest, finest building, gift of a U.S. foundation. It also houses the six-room clinic and hospital, classrooms, and the computer center.

The prison has an attractive non-denominational chapel and a resident chaplain. They have a few dedicated counselors, but need more. I asked John what they do about the small number of Belizean prisoners who are converted Muslims. He said they tried catering to them, but it didn’t work.

John said ministers of the various churches visit regularly, holding services and counseling, but not proselytizing. He banned one hellfire-and-damnation character for sending the wrong message. Kolbe tries to convince prisoners that they are valuable human beings who can turn their lives around.

A wide variety of work and training is available to the minimum-security prisoners and to the young ones who are housed separately, away from the harder adult inmates. Most of them eagerly join workshops or classes, especially in literacy and math. Those who work around the prison earn 20 to 35 cents per hour. Half of their pay must go into individual savings accounts that they cannot tap except for emergencies.

We ran out of time and energy before reaching the women’s prison. At the moment they have only 37 inmates, most of them illegal alien “waitresses” brought to the country for prostitution. Of course, the group includes a few annoyed women who discussed marital or extramarital differences with a machete.

September 2004

September 1. I cleared my calendar for the entire week so I could finish up the Kolbe prison article by Friday’s deadline. I worked myself almost blind for three and a half days and was able to email John a first draft on Monday.

Yesterday, he took me back up to the prison to get some colorful quotations for the article. John left me in the radio studio with Santiago Biser, whom I had met on my previous visit.

I had told John which men I wanted to talk to, plus ideas for other quotes. He deposited five men in the hall outside the studio, and I saw them one at a time. I had asked Santiago to stay with me—which I think he intended to do anyway. It made my interviewees more comfortable, I think.

One of my captives was Mark Thompson, who runs the clinic. He is an emergency medical technician (EMT), thanks to a 65-man strong class held in the prison. Santiago also is an EMT and told me when we were alone that he came tops in the class with Mark right behind him.

A great, strapping, handsome man, a Fairweather, is the HIV-AIDS counselor. I got a lot of good information from him. He told me that he himself has AIDS. On our drive home, John told me that Fairweather was taken into the prison on a stretcher, he was so wasted and weak. The prison regimen of medicine, regular doctor’s visits, and special diets brought him back to stability. John says that since Kolbe took over the prison, AIDS patients are recovering instead of dying. They get far better care than they would on city streets.

My last inmate introduced himself as Anthony Craig, the recruiter for various classes and trades, and a poet. I exclaimed that I had heard him the night before at the opening of the Old Belize Museum, where he read his poem about the museum. I never saw him because the podium was behind a column. Craig is an energetic, almost overwhelming man, possibly Garifuna. He insisted on giving me a copy of his museum poem.

As he was about to leave, Craig asked if he could recite his poem Prison Life. He leaned lankily forward so our faces were almost uncomfortably close and dramatically, without referring to a written copy, spun out a fairly good poem about finding God in prison.

Craig pressed his own hand-written copy on me later, hoping I would include it in my article. I mentioned it later when I was back with John in the CEO’s office. Both of them grinned and together called out the name of the poem. When I said I had the only copy, John took it off to photocopy. I have typed it up and will print four copies to give Craig next time I have a chance.

 

Today I adjusted copy in my draft to suit some suggestions John had made. I inserted my interviews in the logical spots. I want to look over the text once more after lunch before emailing it to John.

I am wound up with this work, living for the moment when the article is on its way. It isn’t deathless prose, but I think it is a full overview of the prison, before and after. There are some vivid visual moments in it. I think there are remnants of officialese in it, which I hope to revise on my final run-through this afternoon.

I am having a wonderful time. I love having something useful to do. With luck I will survive until Friday.

 

September 6. I emailed my final version of the prison report to John on Thursday. He added the photos we had selected, along with captions, and sent the lot to the editor in California. I was limp from the stress. Only now am I beginning to feel like myself.

I told John that he had to find new work for me. I loved doing this. He said that he has produced some sort of handout every month and hoped I would work with him on them. He said it would entail a visit to the prison every month. I accepted with relief. You can’t imagine what it means to me to be doing something worthwhile. The trouble with retirement, especially for someone living alone, is that one doesn’t feel needed.

February 2005

When I finished the prison report, I found myself in charge of writing an article about the rehabilitation efforts of the prison, compared to what it was in the past. After the article appeared in a U.S. corrections industry magazine, John distributed it at a Rotary meeting. One of the members, Lord Michael Ashcroft, was so impressed he immediately handed John a check for $5,000 for Kolbe.

John took Lord Ashcroft out to visit the prison. That resulted in an offer of a quarter of a million dollars if John could come up with a suitable prison project. John already had one—a drug rehabilitation center. As in the U.S., a large percentage of our crime is drug related. I drafted a letter for John to send Lord Ashcroft, laying out his idea.

May 2005

John has co-opted me for another prison project. This time, the government wants a new video about developments there. Yesterday at the prison, I saw that the forms for the ground floor of the drug rehab are in place and concrete is being poured. Inmates are doing the work under the supervision of a professional builder.

John has taken me out to the prison the last two Wednesday mornings. I am astounded at the improvements. Last year I toured the main Learning Center. Now, I find, an entire new Learning Center has been established just for the Max-Medium cell-block. They remodeled an unused building next to the Max-Medium that had been intended for punishment cells. They knocked out walls to create eight nice-size classrooms. One houses a library, one a computer center, and several are classrooms. The last room in the row has been set aside for a technical training program they hope to begin soon. Raised planters abloom with lavender flowers line the entire entry wall. Inmates trained as landscape gardeners tend them to immaculate perfection.

I walked miles around the sunny prison compound both days. It was too stimulating to be tiring. Throughout the prison, programs have been initiated or expanded. A handsome gift shop just outside the main gate offers an incredible variety of handcraft. It has a small fast-food restaurant, picnic tables, and U.S.-quality rest rooms. Proceeds from gift-shop sales underwrite projects like the new, enlarged, secure visitors’ center.

The jewelry shop has a million dollars’ worth of donated equipment for things like creating pewter pieces, working with silver, and gold plating. I was fascinated at being shown steps in their various processes. The jewelry shop is staffed by a handful of highly skilled, trustworthy inmates.

I was a little put off when John told me I was to work on a video. Never have touched one. I looked up video scripts on the Internet and actually found a sample. Most interesting layout, completely foreign to me. Fortunately, John explained that the government publicity department will do the video. All they want from me is an outline of the scenes they are to shoot with my comments on each, from which they will write the voice-over.

I already have written the basic text from my first visit. I will write up in my own style my notes from yesterday’s visit. Then I will go back over it all, decide on camera views, and lay out the accompanying voice-over text in as close to video style as possible. I will send it to John for editing. When it suits him, he can give my material to the government office.

October 2005

The new drug-rehab center already is half built, just outside the main prison fence.

My latest project is somewhat more daunting than earlier ones. John gave me a 350-page Canadian manual for parole-board members and wants me to use it as a basis for a short guide for our parole board. I have a rough working draft nearly finished. There are two main problems: avoiding duplications, and putting jargon into simple English. Luckily, John says there is no deadline for the guide.

Frankly, I’m having a ball! I enjoy the work and know I can end up with a valuable guide. Furthermore, at age 83, it is wonderful to feel useful.

February 2006

I think I told you that John gave me the dubious honor of compressing 350 pages of a Canadian Risk-Assessment Guide for Parole Boards into a dozen simple pages for use in Belize. By the time I submitted my draft, it was decided that it should be slightly amended to include prison authorities as well as parole-board members. It was a simple enough matter to rework some things and add some others. I sent what I hoped was the final draft off to John late December or early January. He forwarded it to his friend in Canada for approval.

Meanwhile, I had received a draft of material for a little Kolbe brochure. John explained that he is not satisfied with the wording, but had to have some of the brochures printed in time for him to take to Washington, where he was invited to President Bush’s Prayer Breakfast. John, the prime minister (Said Musa), and his financial adviser (Ralph Fonseca) all were invited.

John said they got a wonderful reception. People from many countries had read my article about what Kolbe is doing with the prison here and wanted to ask John questions. Singapore was especially interested in learning more about what is happening in the country from Said and Ralph.

Charles Colson, formerly of Nixon’s staff and of a federal prison, was delighted to see John. He is head of a foundation that works with prisons world-wide. He is serious about setting up a branch here. John said Colson already has picked a retired member of his foundation who is interested in spending a year in Belize to set things up. I don’t know details, but this would be a separate unit within the prison, cooperating in the rehabilitation program.

John and I will get together in the next week or so to revise the wording for the brochure and give me another tour of the prison to see all they have accomplished since my last visit.

August 2007

I ran into John and Marta Woods at a recent party. I told John that, after my Danube Cruise in June and family reunion at Higgins Lake in July, I was back home to stay—in case he needed me. The next day I had a call.

John explained that he wanted a sort of catalog of the departments, activities, and aims of the prison. It would be a basic publication and could be upgraded as needed. Someone in his office had written the initial version, which they had been distributing. He wanted me to edit and smooth it out. Arrangements were made for her to come to see me that afternoon.

To my delight, the young woman turned out to be someone I had met several times on visits to the prison, where she was secretary to the superintendent. Hardly thinking about it, we embraced in a friendly hug. I never caught her name. When I confessed that, she explained that most people couldn’t understand her name and called her all sort of things, “Shakira” being the most common. Her name actually is Taheera Ahmed.

She is a very tall, slim, attractive girl, her head enveloped in a pretty but hot-looking scarf. I knew from earlier visits with her that she was well educated and very bright. She now works for John.

The catalog is quite good. I want to leave things in Taheera’s words as much as possible, of course. I know how protective writers are of their creations. However, I think she will accept some rewording of long, involved sentences. And I may be able to reword some of the duplications rather than axing them. If I am flexible about wording I don’t really like, and if Taheera understands why changes are suggested, we may come out of this still friends.