There were about ten prisoners or
so to my side, most of them Indonesians. Mo was surrounded by women and sat
between two other visitors, perhaps
that’s why he looked so uncomfortable, one was a little old Indonesian woman
with pursed lips and dressed all in black and a bareheaded fat woman who
shouted everything while making lots of gestures like they do in Kalimantan.
But it was the distance between us that made everyone shout.
The first time I came in, if felt
dizzy because of all the noise, it was like returning to the fish dock on a
Saturday morning when the left over weekend catch was sold and everyone out and
the prices being driven down or the first time I saw the jury sworn in.
Between the large bare walls of
the room and the sunlight pouring in through the windows it made the difference
between the shade of my cell and this place all the stranger. It took me a
second to adjust but then I could see each face clearly outlined against the
bright light. I noticed two guards sat at each end of the corridor between the
bars. Most of the prisoners and their families sat on the floor facing each
other. They weren’t shouting. In spite of all the commotion they managed to
hear each other clearly even though they spoke very quickly, almost in whispers
but all seemed to join in. Their muffled voices carried like the calm of the
sea and created a sort of soft background music against the wash and tides of
conversation and occasional shout. The noise bounced and flowed above their
heads and echoed from the walls.
I noticed all this very quickly
as I walked towards Mo. He was already leaning towards the bars and smiling at
me as brightly as he could. I thought he looked very beautiful and sad but I
didn’t know how to tell him that.
‘Well ‘ he said very softly ‘Here we are. Do you have everything that you need.’’
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