Jail

My contact at the P embassy gave me the thumbs up that I could join her for a visit to our stranded Filipino maid at the deportation center (fancy word for jail complete with high barbed wire fences.) I was sooo happy to get to go to jail! A 45 minute drive through jam packed roads brought us to the big gray complex. My friend took half an hour or more to get past 3 guards & finally get permission to bring me in with her to see "the general." I scooped up the bag of goodies I'd brought her and joined the conference in the lovely office with A/C & wall mounted TV. Our dis-sheveled friend was brought in wearing a tee shirt with holes and ratty jogging pants; she had obviously lost weight and was sick with a cough. The man asked her "why are you still here?" "I don't know." "Did you steal money?" "No sir." The rest of us were seated comfortably, she was left to stand the entire meeting.

After much running after files & conferencing, they said she must have a case against her & promised to look into it. The word on the street is that her sponsor is related to the immigration official and is trying to extract more money before letting her go. In other words, "wasta" is needed for this case.

We were hoping to visit the ward where other Filipino women were kept but were told to come back at three o'clock for that. It was obvious this was a delay tactic meant to make us lose interest. When my friend told them she needed to see her Filipino women, he relented, but said "only you may go"...unsaid: not the westerner.

I was thrilled to be able to give Gina a hug, say a quick prayer with her, and leave the bag after it had been searched. She said she prayed for someone to help her then looked in her phone and found my number. I pray just by being there, somehow, that will help her hold on, help the ones in power to act with integrity, send a message that we expect justice to take place. A report will be filed at her embassy and once again, we will wait...