The day after I got my unexpected, and to be my only unofficial permitted visit with Proscovia, I called the Ugandan High Commission in New Delhi again. Actually, I called a few times as it was Friday and I knew if I didn't get to speak with anyone that day, that it would be yet another weekend of waiting, and with me planning on leaving within the week there was no time to waste. I was feeling like I was harassing them by this point, well, more so the receptionists as it was usually them that I was speaking with. But thankfully after a few attempts I was able to speak with the ever elusive consulate, Margaret.
I got the "I still haven't received word back from Uganda" spiel right away after which my impatience shone through I am sure. I said something like, "Margaret, this has been a several week process and I am leaving soon, just tell me honestly, am I going to get permission or not?" Going for broke I also asked why it was necessary that the request be sent to Uganda. Why couldn't they just deal with it there? It was at this point that Margaret shed some light on the situation, which still shocks me honestly.
What she said was that the Ugandan High Commission knew nothing of Proscovia being in prison in Nepal. Which meant that they couldn't write a letter for me because they had no confirmation that she was even Ugandan. I responded by saying how sad that was when she has been in prison for 9 years. She agreed that it was strange that Nepali officials had never advised them, and confirmed that if she was in fact Ugandan, that they would visit her regularly. She said it would help if I could get a copy of her passport, to which I should have said "well how am I going to be able to do that if I can't get in to see her?!" but unfortunately it didn't come to me quick enough. I had decided not to mention the freebie visit I had been granted as I didn't want them to feel that my request was any less urgent or that I should be happy with just that one visit.
I always try and look for the meaning in situations, as I tend to believe that things do happen for a reason. In this case I got to thinking afterwards that perhaps this time was so difficult, requiring embassy assistance in order to see Proscovia was for them to finally know about her after her being in prison for so many years. I had no idea that they hadn't known about her up until then and just figured that they were useless like Teo's Nigerian Embassy had been. So I took some solace in this; choosing to believe that there was a purpose for me this time; to get her ongoing embassy support.
Of course me telling Margaret that Proscovia was for sure Ugandan meant nothing. Ironically the day before when I had seen her she had insisted on giving me a knitted scarf made with Ugandan colours, black, red and yellow. Knitting is a pastime of hers (she calls it Proscovia's Boutique) and she often sends her visitors with gifts. I already have a few things; knitted flowers, slippers, sachets and now a scarf.
So anyway, the conversation ended with Margaret saying that she would speak with her boss and get back to me. I wasn't very hopeful after the rigmarole to date. Well would you believe, maybe a half hour later or less didn't I get a phone call from her which shocked me as I hadn't even given her my local number (she must have had call display). She asked me if I could draft a letter as to what I wanted it to say, and that she would take it to her boss. I was conscious of the time (3:30 pm on a Friday) but she said if I could get it to her quick that she would take it to her boss that afternoon. I had been taking some sun on the roof at the time but after hanging up flew downstairs to write this letter. I had it to her within 20 minutes maybe and lo and behold a half hour later or less I had an email with a scanned, and signed letter (my drafted letter word for word) signed on official letterhead by the Ugandan High Commission!!! I'm pretty sure they just wanted my harassment to stop, but OMG what a victory!! I jumped around a bit, screeched and whew, was on top of the world!
I couldn't visit the next day as it was Saturday, a holiday in Nepal on which there are no visits, but the following day I went with the printed letter in hand, knowing that it would still likely be quite the process to get in. Sure enough, I got to the first window and no sooner was sent up to see the Jailer. Sigh..
Up I went, into a room full of men again, one being Aakash (they must have been having their daily meeting with the prisoner guards) and when acknowledged walked up and handed the Jailer the letter. With his usual scour he looked it over and then asked if it was an original copy. I kind of knew that would happen but simply explained that an original was not possible as it had been scanned to me from New Delhi. He looked it over some more. To try and make it sound like I wouldn't be a problem for long, I told him that I was leaving in a week and that I would see her only 3 times before I left. Well that didn't go over well as the other bigwig that Prakash had talked to piped up from the couch saying that only 2 times a week were allowed. That meant one visit today and only one more before I left. Well, what could I say but ok, no problem.
So Mr. Personality finally signed the paper and gave it to his right hand man who went to copy it. But of course due to load shedding there was no power so he just kept it. Whatever. I got my visit slip signed and off I went to the long lines and million step process. I will digress here because one of the things that drives me crazy is that there are 2 line ups to sign in and get a visitor badge, one for men and one for women. Well, there are 3 times as many women visitors as men as the majority of the prisoners are men, so it's the mothers, sisters, daughters etc there visiting. Despite this, there is one police officer for the men and one for the women, regardless of the length of the line which translates to the women waiting forever and the men just strolling up and getting through immediately. Drives me crazy. The first day I didn't realize that the lines were separated and after seeing all these men just stroll in I got frustrated and joined their line until someone piped up and told me that deal. The moral of the story is that it's a long and frustrating process anyway.
I finally got through everything ( so I thought) and walked all the way over to the women's jail, to be told that I was missing a stamp. For the love of Pete! Seriously all their steps are a make work project as you go to station after station to get a scribble, stamp, lick or whatever turns their crank! So back I went to get the useless stamp. By this point I'm annoyed as I walk into one of the offices and find two officers having lunch. Well of course one is Mr. Friendly English Speaker and asks me to sit down. As they eat their spaghetti I'm asked some Curious George questions (not anything security related of course) when all I want to do is get the hell out of there and get visiting. But I hid my annoyance and appeased the guy, which turned out to be a smart move as this guy turned out to be Head of Security and I have learnt well that who you know at the prison will make or break your experience there.
I eventually ended up at the women's prison, this time with our traditional visit snack of Lays chips and a drink. She was thrilled to see that I had got permission, and shocked that her embassy had come through for us. She doesn't think too highly of them. I also had some of the gifts that I had brought for her, which after knowing the condition that she was in, felt silly and impractical. But I had brought her some warm tights, underwear (which after seeing her I was thinking were too big. I told her she better still have some junk in the trunk...we had a good laugh about that), a couple shirts (but these I felt were maybe not so appropriate for prison, kinda like my holey jeans in Nepal). Also some Body Shop lotion to which she expressed some excitement as she would be a celebrity again. I always used to joke with her that she was a celebrity having all the foreign visitors and receiving exciting things. I also brought some Belgian chocolates which seemed a little frivolous but in prison you can make friends with things like this. And from the little we had been able to talk, with all the financial issues she had been going through, she could benefit from wooing some friends.
But it was actually the 5 bars of laundry soap and digestive cookies that I had bought at the store next to the prison that probably brought the most excitement from her. She said that she had been out of detergent and was 4 rupees short of being able to buy a bar for 20 (20 cents) so was thrilled to have enough to last her perhaps 5 weeks. And the digestives, well, they're her favourite snack, so they would be a nice treat.
I don't even remember what we chatted about that day to be honest. Prison news, prison tribulations, all the little tasks she was hoping I could do for her related to communication with others. I told her about what the Ugandan High Commission had said about not knowing anything about her which like me, she couldn't understand. But she planned to write a letter to them for me to pass on before I left, and to try and get a copy of her passport as well.
I told her that I would only be allowed one more visit which of course she didn't want to hear. She was convinced that they would allow me more but I told her that she had no idea the efforts that had been required, and that 2 was it. Gone were the days where visits were easy and enjoyable there. I told her to expect me back on the Wednesday before I left for our last visit.
After leaving the women's prison I went back to the main security area and started walking to the men's jail to visit Aakash. In hindsight that probably wasn't the smartest thing to do but this group were just so unfriendly that there was no chit chatting with them about anything. Well I didn't even get part way when one of the police guards came running after in a panic asking me where I was going. Well as luck would have it the Head of Security guy that I had met eating lunch happened to be right there and after a brief exchange with the junior officer said that I could go. What that translated to was Curious George walking with me, asking me questions about myself and then proceeding to sit down with Aakash and I for a visit!
The ol' white plastic backyard chairs were pulled up into the middle of the green space and coffee was ordered, which they insisted on. Well it was a good thing that I had come prepared this time! I pulled out a package of maple cream cookies that I had brought for Aakash and which went over really well. Ayush (Curious George) was super relaxed and ate cookie after cookie with Aakash keeping up as well until they were all gone. They sure loved them which led to a conversation about maple and all things Canadian. It was a nice chat really.
Then for some reason we got talking about dogs..Ayush called someone and all of a sudden a black pug named Akku who lives in the prison came bounding out all happy. I love pugs and he was soooo cute. Life aint too bad on the men's side I tell you...Ayush finally got called away from his coffee/cookie break which left Aakash and I to chat a bit more. He eventually walked me out and off I went until the next and final visit for this trip...
