Upon returning to Santa Rosa everyone did their own thing until the evening. With a big group of volunteers it was easier for everyone to figure out what they would do for dinner (rather than try to organize one place for everyone) and then meet up back at the hotel for drinks. We would then go out to the bars and nightclubs to top off the night.
As everyone began to head out for the Santa Rosa nightlife, about eight of us continued to stay and converse. I actually preferred to stay and play drinking games at the hotel but the group consensus was to head out to where the other volunteers were so I followed along. We went to a new bar where we encountered several volunteers – it was a very nice outdoor bar. After chatting with them for a little bit we headed out to another bar we heard the other volunteers were. Arriving there we found out it was a private party so we headed out to a nightclub to see if they were there. A street vendor was selling delicious smelling food so we stopped for a late night snack. Several other volunteers ended up there as well so we all sat happily eating our food. One of the volunteers wanted to head back to the hotel but did not know how to get there so I walked him back. We passed a big group of rowdy volunteers that were walking back to the hotel as well.
At the hotel while talking with the volunteer, everyone else came in. I noticed that the volunteers that I was with previously did not come with them so I headed back out to find them to make sure they were getting back ok. I ran into them at the Central Park – Amanda was walking in Danny’s sneakers while Danny was walking barefoot holding Amanda’s broken sandals. Lisa and Emina were walking arm in arm. I wasn’t sure how this came about but it was a nice image so I sat on the park steps and took it in. As they passed by I called out to them and we headed back to the hotel together.
To understand the layout of Santa Rosa (the part relevant to the story), the Police Station is across the street on the north side of the park. That street heads straight down west to the hotel we were staying at and the night life was on the south side of the park. The police commander’s office was on the northwest corner of the park across the street. We walked through Central park northwest to head to the hotel which passed by close to the Police Station. This was the same route I took to walk the other volunteer home and the same route the big group of volunteers took.
We passed the northwest corner and were about two blocks from the hotel when I noticed headlights from behind. I told everyone to get out of the road to let it pass – Amanda, Lisa and Danny were straggling behind a bit. However, it was a police truck and they pulled over right besides them. I went back for them to try to explain to the cops that we were close to the hotel when they started pushing me and telling me to get into the back. I told them to hold on, that I wanted to make sure everyone else was ok first but they got very aggressive and started shoving me with the point of their batons. It looked like everyone was staying calm about the matter so I got on first and helped everyone else on. I knew it was not to end well.
Once at booking I tried to find out why we were being arrested. I found it to be ridiculous so tried to make light of the whole situation. I was glad to find that Emina was doing the same. We called the Peace Corps Duty Officer (it was about 2 am) to let them know of the situation. When it turned out that we were going to the jail cells I called the Duty Officer again to let him know and that they were confiscating our cell phones, personal belongings and interestingly enough our belts (the guys only). They ripped the phone out of my hand (it took two of them to do it as I was resisting) mid conversation and put it away. With nothing else to do we were led to the holding cells. I was hoping that they would place us all together but they sent the girls to one cell and the guys to another. About ten feet from the cells I smelled the urine permeating from the guys’ cell and I knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant night.
As Danny and I went in (he was still barefoot) I noticed that it was already occupied by four Hondurans (presumably drunks). The stench was awesomely horrendous – there was a small partitioned area in the back corner for the toilet but apparently the entire back of the cell was used as an open toilet. As we sat down I began to talk with the other Hondurans – I thought it better to win them over as friends. I wasn’t sure what there disposition towards foreigners would have been as some Hondurans are hostile towards Americans (especially those that lived in the States illegally and ended up in jail there). Things went well and after a few laughs it appeared that they weren’t going to bother us. I was getting tired (the night before I only managed a few hours of sleep) so I tried to sleep on the cement bench. Danny claims I snored but I think he lies.
As the night wore on, more and more Hondurans guys were led into the cell. It got to the point where I had to sit up to allow the other Hondurans to sit. I was dead tired by then – I was trying to get some rest and at the same time kept a wary eye on the other Hondurans. A fat Honduran came in and he seemed to claim the king of the cell status. He was the guy that the other Hondurans differed to. He was the one as well that started to lay the smack down on the other Hondurans. I wasn’t sure how it happened – perhaps Danny knows, but this one guy in a white shirt apparently got on the nerves of the fat Honduran. The fat Honduran shoved the white shirt guy away from him and into Danny. Danny tried to placate the guy by telling him to calm down and I was trying to tell Danny to not get involved. The fat Honduran was apologized to Danny – it appeared his wrath extended only to the Hondurans and he was pretty cool to us. The white shirt guy became the cell “bitch.” It was interesting to see the jail cell dynamics. The fat Honduran was the head honcho and this other small Honduran in a cheap baggy blazer was his sidekick. After the smackdown the small Honduran would start hitting the white shirt guy and yelling at him. It was pretty funny because I’m sure he only did it because the thought the fat guy had his back.
At one point in the night a shirtless, shoeless Honduran was led in. He was shaking (with rage, drugs, I don’t know) and was cursing at the police and trying to strike at them the whole time. Interesting is that in the movies you see police confidently manhandling prisoners when they act up but in reality they seemed just as scared. When striking the shirtless Honduran he would do it quickly and then jump back – it was kind of like a middle school playground fight where both people are more afraid of getting hit than wanting to win.
The shirtless Honduran walked around muttering things. Not sure exactly what but it got to a point where he was annoying all the other Hondurans. The fat guy pushed him into the urine soaked area of the cell several times and started hitting him. After a while the other Hondurans would do the same thing as well – rushing him, kicking him and punching him. He got beat several times that night to the point of bleeding.
What really frustrated me aside from the stench and filth of the cell was that we didn’t know how long we were to stay in the cells. Our cellmates told us it is usually until 5pm or 24 hours. I was worried because all of our stuff was still at the hotel (check out was 12) and no other volunteer knew where we were. As daylight broke a Honduran lawyer came by to talk with everyone. The guys all crowded by the cell door but one of them actually tried to get the lawyer’s attention on our behalf. I told him to call the Peace Corps Duty Officer to update him on our status. The lawyer handed me the phone and I told the Duty Officer our current situation and that we would need volunteers to help get our stuff at the hotel. Afterwards a Honduran police officer came by with the Peace Corps Safety and Security Officer on the phone (as a former police officer he has connections). The Security Officer proceeded to tell us the situation – the head police officer of the western region of Honduras was the one who ordered the cops to go out and arrest us and for that reason the Security Officer was not able to pull any strings to get us out. I told him that I still was not sure why we were being held – we weren’t drunk or causing any disturbances and that we were just walking back to the hotel. He told us that he was doing whatever he could to get us out, but in the meantime we would have to wait. He also said that he would get in touch with the other volunteers to check up on us and to make sure our stuff at the hotel was taken care of.
A bit after some volunteer came by. It was bittersweet to say goodbye to the H15ers that were leaving that day through cell doors – I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it. The two volunteers that lived in Santa Rosa (Slater and Elizabeth) stopped by as well to see if we needed anything while they tried to figure out what was going on and how to get us out. Brock and Leila (H15ers) came by and bought us water and food to share with the cellmates (to keep them amicable) and the Santa Rosa volunteers brought everyone pizza and water as well. What I was especially grateful for was the hand sanitizers – my jeans, sneakers and socks were soaked in urine (as well as my hands from trying to roll up my pants to keep them from getting drenched in the urine pools). That kept spirits up while we waited for the outcome.
I found the drink situation to be interesting in the jail cell. In the morning before the other volunteers showed up, a Honduran came to see who wanted to buy drinks. Some people pooled together money to buy drinks and they even offered to share with us. The shirtless Honduran asked if I wanted to pool with him to get a bag of water (I said no) and when the guy said they didn’t have bags of water, he started ripping his money. I’m still trying to understand that. Overall I found them to be very generous to us and with each other and I felt good when the volunteers brought us food and drinks to share with them. But I still found it funny that they always differed to the fat Honduran first since he was “alpha dog.”
Eventually someone pulled strings to get us out of the cell on the grounds that we were not feeling well (around 10 am). This was done without the head guy’s knowledge but the police officer that said to do it took the risk (the Safety Officer’s friend). We were told that we would be able to get out but the head officer wanted to talk/chastise us first. At first it was supposed to be at 11 and then it was after lunch. We had to wait in the station but it just felt great to be out of the cell. It was around 3 when he finally got to talk to us and we found out why we were held in jail. It appears that the big group of volunteers that I passed when walking back with the other volunteer were very loud and creating a ruckus to the point where the head of police heard it from his office. There were also people calling in to complain of the noise. He decided to send out a police car to arrest the people responsible. Coincidently those people got to the hotel before they were caught. I’m assuming that the police truck circled around the block and that was when they saw the five of us walking back to the hotel. Even though we weren’t the ones disturbing the peace, we were all part of the same gringo volunteer group and he had to make an example of us. Unjust? Yes. But at that point all I was looking forward to was to burn my socks and shoes (I would have done the same with my jeans if I weren’t so attached) and take a nice shower. I fortunately had the pants I used for paintballing to wear. I did not want to walk around in those nasty shoes so I bought a new pair and threw away the other pair. And I slept like a baby that night at Slater’s place – the only bus to my site had left and Slater was kind to let me and Danny crash at his house.
Looking back I think the five of us handled the situation very well. No one despaired and everyone kept their cool. Several times at night I heard Emina singing from the women’s cell. Danny kept calm during the whole ordeal as well – if I had to share a cell with anyone I’m glad it was Danny.
I have to thank to Brock and Leila for stopping by and getting us food and drinks, as well as Slater and Elizabeth. Dimitri, Kenyon, Justin and Eric for stopping by to see how we were doing. And we can’t thank Slater enough for being our intermediary between the police and the Peace Corps, keeping us updated on what was going on and trying to work behind the scenes to get us out. And a big thanks to our security officer for working hard on our behalf as well.
