Last Thursday morning, four of us set out to hold a bible study and worship service in the prison. Melissa, Vicki, Bev and I.
There are so many things swirling around in my mind right now, and the faith of these women is at the heart of that mess.
If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and floats like a duck, it must be a duck… this is what my sometimes-too-logical-mind tells me.
But this doesn’t look like a prison, sound like a prison, or really even feel like a prison.
We enter the building through a small door on the side. I am wearing my Camelback backpack, which is searched every time we go into a mall here. But it is ignored as we enter the jail. The women are up on the second level, so we climb a steep steel ladder/staircase, walk through several clotheslines with women’s clothes hanging on them, and a guard unlocks the iron gate of a door with the large key on a ring. We are then shown to a room about 16’X16′ which is has iron bars on three sides. This is the only thing this day that resembles the images my mind conjures up when I hear the word ‘prison.’
This prison and the people in it, look nothing like prisons in the US. None of the inmates wear matching clothes, or even any identifying markers. Men are one room away from the women. They are all wearing a random assortment of street clothes. Short and skirts… printed t-shirts… they are clean and well groomed. They are normal women. Who just happen to be living in a community set apart from the outside world. We can see their beds through the iron bars. The door swings open frequently with inmates traveling from one section to another with no sort of organized movement. We had barely forty-five minutes with these lovely women, not long. But long enough that I was able to learn some of their stories.
Teray is the Religious Coordinator. She has been in prison for six years. Her crime has something to do with forging visas for Filipinos to go to Japan. She has now served her time, and is free to go, as soon as she pays her exit fees. She currently has 1,000 pesos saved. She needs to come up with 100,000 pesos to leave prison. To put it in US dollars, she needs $5,000 and she has $20. Despite this seemingly insurmountable obstacle, Teray is in high spirits. She coordinates all of the different missionary groups and local church groups that want to come visit with the ladies. Her English is better than most, and she sings like an angel. As she was telling us the story of how she is free once she gets the money, we began to show sympathy. She stopped us, saying that she knows that God has her here for a reason, and that she must have more to learn. When the Lord sees fit, He will provide the funds for her release. Oh, to have faith like that!
Beatrice is a lovely woman, who has been in this prison for five years now. She has no education, and no clearly marketable skills. The only way she saw to provide for her family was to sell drugs. And she got caught. There doesn’t seem to be any sort of relationship between one’s crime and the length of time one is in prison here, so she too says the same thing as Teray. “If I am still here, it is because the Lord has more for me to learn by being here.”
Mother Leia’s story breaks my heart. She is 62, and has been in this prison for the last 3 years. She didn’t actually commit a crime. She is an example of something about which my father always warned me. Guilt by Association. At 59 years old, she owned a home, and friends (I use this term loosely) of hers were doing drugs and possibly selling them from her home. She did not use drugs, nor did she sell them. But because the activities were going on in her home, as the owner, she is responsible for everything that takes place there. So, she too has joined the women’s bible study, and prays for a day when the Lord will set her free.
The ladies told us that they wake up each morning and have a bible study in Tagalog, followed my morning prayers. They regularly have praise and worship sessions, with one of the ladies accompanying on the guitar when they can get one. As I said before, nothing here feels like a prison. It strikes me more like a convent of sorts, where the women are joyfully separated from the rest of the world so they are free to joyfully celebrate Christ. I know this is not the case, but still… I keep going back to the duck.
We led then in some some songs, and then they taught us a new song in Tagalog!
IKAW ANG LAKAS KO You are my strength
Ikaw ang lakas para sa akin You are my strength
Kaligayahan at sandigan For happiness I lean on you
Dumating man ang problema Even though problems will come
Walang makapagnihiwalay No one will let us leave
Walang maikukumpara No one compares
Sa’yong pagmamahal to Your Love
Gaano man kalayo ang langit Even though heaven is far
Pagmamahal mo’y para sa lahat Your love is for everyone
Ikaw ang diyos, ikaw ang lakas ko You are my God. You are my strength.
At kaligayahan ko And my happiness
Gaano man kalalim ang dagat Even though the sea is deep
Pag-ibig moy tunay at wagas Your love is true and holy
Ikaw ang diyos, ikaw ang lakas ko You are my God, you are my strength
At kaligayahan ko And my happiness
Our voices, Americans and Filipinos, joined together, and we made that Jailhouse Rock!
