Permission papers for the prison
I’ve come to expect my first day in the prison going something like this: I arrive, with a stack of old permissions in hand. I negotiate my way into the prison, using my old permissions as leverage. I arrive at the appropriate office, with new papers in hand- exact replicas of what I was told I needed (and did) present during my last trip. At the office I’m told that _____________ no longer works there/is on vacation/changed departments, instead I need to see _____________ and he wants ___________ instead of what I have. Today did not disappoint!
Last January I spent a week working on a 20 page education plan for 2015, that I was told I was required to present. My plan was approved and I was promised that in August my permissions would be ready when I arrived. Instead, the person who took such care with my plan during the last trip was on vacation and left his substitute nothing. Fortunately, his substitute, although dumb founded about what to do with me, was a nice enough fellow and clearly didn’t want to turn me away.
After giving me a scare when he said, “Well, there is nothing I can do. I don’t know anything about you and your plan,” (to which I replied, “Well, I did what I was told to do.”) he took me to the Director and explained my position. The Director was new, only in the prison for a week, so we both held our breaths, not knowing what type of guy he was. Was he an official director, who would make me jump through hoops and present 50 more papers in 5 different offices before giving me permission? Was he a flirtatious director, who would flirt with me and ask me inappropriate personal questions before giving me permission? Was he a lazy director, who would pawn me off to a different department, which would then take 4 days to give me my papers? Or was he a stern director, who would listen to my pleas and then simply say no?
As it turns out, he was none of these, in fact, he was a mixture of official, efficient, and kind. Hearing me out and looking through my past permissions and current, revised plan, he agreed that we could have our classes with the additional teachers (4 in total, a record for Ruraq Maki!). He also posed an important question: Wouldn’t it be better if, in January when I returned, he just gave me permission for the entire year so I didn’t have to keep coming back? Why, yes sir, it would be.
For the first time ever, in 6 years, I had the permissions for everyone, and all class materials (including knives and other sharp objects) completed and signed on my very first day in the prison. No coming back later. No we’ll do it the next day. No wait, except for the 15 minutes I sat outside the director’s office while his secretary typed up my forms. I could get used to this.
While all this was going on, the women had sent a guard to come find me and bring me back to their pabellon (cell block). Although her urgency that the women were waiting to talk to me was touching, I refused to budge until I had papers in hand. Once I finally did, and went to see the women, there was an excited welcome and we chatted about the current conditions in the prison (more on this tomorrow) and our class schedule in the coming weeks.
For the rest of the morning I registered women for our classes so that tomorrow, when I return, I can get authorization to move those women from the pabellon to the workshop area, where classes will be held. I’m also requesting permission to bring my camera in on special class days so I can document the courses. I’ll be crossing my fingers that tomorrow will be as successful as today.