jailed

by Diego Paredes (Peru)

I didn't expect to find USA

As I entered the cell at the Big Bear Lake Police Station, I could see all those extremely intimidating guys staring at me and I remember thinking “I’ve seen this in movies, I’m going to die… Or something worse.” I was just a 19-year-old peruvian boy in my first time in a cell on my first time travelling alone out of my country, barely learning to speak english. So I was very scared. Suddenly, a big, tough, 50-year-old man approached me. “Just relax, you are safe here.”, he said. “Why did they put you here?” “What? Oh! I’m not sure. I was just walking, drinking a beer. But I didn’t know it was such a crime”, I replied. “It’s not a problem in my country.” “They just like to tease young people. Don’t worry, they'll let you out tomorrow morning. ¡And you’ll also have a story to tell!” “Oh, well… Thank you.” His name was Oscar. He was an old drug dealer who had just lost his last chance with the law and this time he would be transferred to spend a long sentence in prison. About 30 years as he said. At first I thought it was because of my fear of being alone in that cell or his need to speak to someone before he was transferred to prison, or maybe both, but we were able to talk a lot very easily, despite my por english. We talked about many things, but mainly about his son, whom he hadn’t seen for a few months. “He lives with her mother, fortunately”, he said. “He’s 20 years old, just like you.” That's when I understood. So I kept listening to him until he fell asleep. The next morning I realized that during the three months I was in Big Bear Lake I met many good friends, but almost none of them would have been able to point to Peru on a map. Some even thought that South America was just Brazil, but not him. “Peru? Of course I know Peru. I’ve never been out of the US, but I watch National Geographic and I read things” So we started to talk a lot about Peru and South America. He had seen many documentaries about Machu Picchu, Cuzco, Argentina, Brazil… He even knew about the inkas. “I wish I could have traveled and got to know South America.” Oscar said. “But, well... I hope my son can travel someday. Maybe even you can be friends!” And we kept talking until I heard an officer yelling my name, “Diego! Say goodbye and come with me!” “I told you”, Oscar said laughing. “Congratulations, you just spent your first night in a cell.” As the officer opened the gate, I tried to say goodbye to Oscar. But how can I say goodbye to someone I just met, but I feel that he is already a good friend who is about to go to prison, and besides, I know I will never see him again? “Nice to meet you, Diego.” “Nice to meet you too.” “I wish you good luck. Have a nice life, man.” “I wish the same for you, Oscar.” As I was leaving that cell and I could see the officer sneakily laughing at me, I remember thinking: I wish the same for you? A nice life in prison? Seriously? That was so cruel! What a jerk! Now, almost 12 years later, I still don't know what could have been a better farewell. I just hope he really has a nice life and, who knows, maybe one day I will share a beer on the street with his son in Cuzco. Without being caught by the police.