The waiting room is full and tense. There is a mixture or people from all backgrounds, packed together in a long but narrow corridor. They sit or stand shoulder to shoulder, but are worlds apart. I sit and hypothesize about that distance. Whether it’s the language barriers or the weight of solemn helplessness to aid loved ones that keeps people eerily quiet, I’m not sure. Then I sit and reflect on a few scenes I just witnessed coming in that seem to indicate the latter. A stream of shirtless, handcuffed Burmese men waiting with heavy eyes. Giant paddy wagons parked outside used in raids to arrest the people–our people–or people like them anyway.

“They sit or stand shoulder to shoulder, but are worlds apart.”

The paper work is done. And not a moment too soon, my sulking is abruptly interrupted by yelling in Thai. I understand and jump to my feet with the others. The command is followed by something broken and harsh, resembling English. I handover my passport for a locker key and crush my belongings inside. No camera and no phones is emphasized in the Thai commands over the importance of no metal or sharp objects. Is any connection to the outside a threat? I swallow that thought while they pat me down and carelessly molest the packages of food I’ve brought. Hands are waved and I wander over to the portable fence.

“I loathe this fence.”

Some of the detainees are already out and the searching and murmuring escalates. There is another row of port-o-fences partitioning the detainees from our fence with a meter or so in between, that at first impression seems to be a mile. The rest is a dysfunctional airport scene. Some elation, greetings, and smiles. The volume of the people shouting between the fences intensifies.

I loathe this fence.

It separates people in a different way than when we were outside. It is the physical personification of the same solemn helplessness I felt then. Damned fence. It doesn’t save me from the obvious desperation of the people on the other side, the heat of the sun, nor the stench from the toilets in the nearby cells.

I press my fingers through the fence and lean on it because I can see her now. “Mr. Noname!” she shouts.

I reply, “Happy Birthday.”

“Today there were enough volunteers to reunite her whole family during the visiting hour. We’re proud.”

She’s been here since the raids last October. Only a few months ago she was a regular attendant of the Saturday morning classes at the Bangkok Refugee Center, practicing her English with me, quizzing the other volunteers about the US, and teaming up with her friends to guess my name. When they couldn’t pry it out of me I was dubbed Mr. Noname. Today there were enough volunteers to reunite her whole family during the visiting hour. We’re proud.

Her smile is noticeably bigger than mine. She’s a teenager today. The other volunteers gather around the fence on our side. I glance around self consciously. Back to the dysfunctional airport scene. Back to the sign behind me that reads, “Don’t trow anything.” And finally, back to the fence. I join the others in crooning the happy birthday song through it. Later, they point over to the food supplies we brought, including bottled water and birthday cupcakes freshly smushed from the search.

The time is up. We wave goodbye to the beaming new teenager. I leave ashamed a little for comparing her birthday to ones I had. Or maybe from being unable to fully mirror her beautiful smile. But I’m thankful and positive–there’s no better way I could have spent my morning.

Join

This is just one of the many stories from the visits we’re making to IDC. It was built to temporarily house foreigners and migrants who overstayed visas or found themselves on the wrong side of Thai law. Thus it can often be quite crowded, without all the amenities of a normal prison. Many refugee families who are arrested end up there regardless of their status with the UN and with little recourse. Twice a week volunteers gather to visit, reunite the families, and bring supplies. Please consider donating or visiting with us while you’re in Bangkok.

Here’s a quote from Ryan who had to stay there a week before his family was resettled to the US:

“In IDC, people are short of everything…. They need most basic supplies, such as carbohydrates, vitamins, drinking water, and hygiene necessities. I know it’s gonna be really hard for yourself to make much different in these people’s life, but with more people actively involving in your program, I believe a lot of people’s life will be better.”

Other Good Ways to Go to Jail

There are other groups going into prisons and providing services to inmates. For example, the Christian Prison Ministry Foundation works with prisoners nearing release. In addition to giving religious guidance to inmates, they provide a series of educational classes to prepare participants to succeed once reintegrated back into society. CPMF is doing everything from art classes to running a halfway house for inmates. Get involved by volunteering to share a skill, especially if you have an interest in helping people rebuild their lives.

Get Uncomfortable

I understand that for many, visiting jails and detention centers aren’t the types of attractions you normally think of when you’re planning your trip to Thailand. I sure didn’t. But when you get in the habit of making yourself available to serve others, you’ll learn to love the adventure that is packaged with making a difference in people’s lives.

-Dwight

Often doing something heroic comes with it’s share of obstacles. This is the case when it comes to volunteering in Bangkok, where it’s usually easier to remain over entertained and under challenged. Information about opportunities is hard to find, with tips and guidelines even more scarce. While there is a real need, busy organizations can’t answer the flurry of email inquiries or they don’t have staff who can communicate in English. Many businesses are offering foreigners chances to volunteer for high fees. This is unappealing and unaffordable for many. To offer an alternative to this, I am now coordinating a project to have volunteers teach in a nearby slum (in addition to sending people to the Bangkok Refugee Center). Also, I’m teaming up with Lindy from Real Volunteer Thailand to freely share information on organizations, guidelines, and ways to contribute. For example, Lindy recently told me about a special place she visited for people suffering with AIDS. Here’s what she said about Baan Gerda:

A recent visit to an AIDS village in Lopburi was nothing short of incredible. Baan Gerda was founded in 2001 by Karl and Thasanee Morsback as a hospice for HIV and AIDS orphans to give them comfort in their last days, but with the introduction of new anti-virals it has morphed into a community where children and foster parents live independently in a loving and secure environment. Their motto is that they give these children a life worth living and that was particularly evident when visiting the village. These children are not only living but they are truly thriving. It is a testament to the resilience and determination they have to live

If you have a special skill that you’d like to share with the kids you can contact them to arrange a visit. In the past they have had professional photographers who did a one day workshop with the older children to teach them basic photography and music composer Bruce Gaston who teaches them various musical skills. Share your knowledge with these bright and enthusiastic children.

In you’d like to find out more about their organization or make a donation to help keep the village up and running you can visit their site Baan Gerda.

“As a leader it is your responsibility to put your followers in the best possible position to succeed.” ~Colin Powell