A Secret History of the Bangkok Hilton

by Chavoret Jaruboon

  However, I think these circumstances can be a true test of character. For those inmates who face down temptation and get by through honest means, it can be a way to reform. They have my respect.

  As I have always said, not all the inmates are evil. People commit crimes for a number of reasons: rage, desperation, foolishness or greed.

  Whatever landed them in the Bangkok Hilton says less about their character than how they choose to live when inside. There are many inmates who get by as honestly and productively as they can. The prison provides just the bare necessities of life, so the inmates have to use what skills they have to make a living.

  Those who have legal expertise are in high demand as the hope of getting out occupies the minds of the detainees all the time. So a number have pursued law degrees while incarcerated. They give legal advice and write letters of complaint and petitions for individual royal pardon for the others. Most of those on death row hire their fellow inmates to write petitions for them instead of their lawyers, who they usually grow to mistrust.

  Former Muay Thai (kick-boxing) practitioners teach others about the lethal martial art and also work as masseurs. The boxers have learnt how to massage so that they can relax the muscles and relieve pain. A good masseur can earn a decent income inside because there are plenty of clients, including prison guards. One who did this was Payak. Famed for his strong punch, he claims he hadn’t intended to kill anybody, though he was convicted of murder. Payak says he was enslaved by his addiction to a life of indulgence, which took every last satang in his pocket. When he needed money, he would rob somebody. His luck ran out when he tried to steal an expensive-looking necklace from a woman and she died during the struggle. He is now a sought-after masseur.

  Fortune-tellers do well too because prisons are full of people who feel unlucky and are bothered by questions about their lives. They are paid in cigarettes, snacks or food. There same questions come up time and again. When will I be released? Will the next court dismiss my case? Will I receive good news about my individual petition for royal pardon? When will the next mass royal pardon come and how much of a reduction will I get in my sentence?

  Prison guards also consult them about the possibility of promotion, family and love. Usually, after a reading the fortune-teller suggests the client make merit or go to see a monk for a blessing in order to improve their luck.

  A lot of inmates are killers from impoverished backgrounds. They don’t have the support of their families who are scraping by just as they are. Some of them become cooks to make a living. It is a strange sight to see murderers covered in tattoos attentively selecting ingredients and cooking fried fish, curries and desserts. They order the ingredients from prison shops or from prisoners who work on farms.

  One former hitman, who has killed a number of people, turned his hand to cultivating vegetables as he has no family that can help him out. He was on the run with his heavily pregnant wife when the police caught him. A few months into his incarceration, his wife left his child with his mother and never returned. His mother barely has enough money to support a young child, let alone her adult son. He says all the money he used to make from killing was cursed as if an unseen force compelled him to use up the blood money wastefully. Once the last satang was out of his pocket, he just took another job. So he had no resources to dip into while in prison.

  Just when he was at his most desperate, as luck would have it, he noticed an empty plot of land in the compound near his building and this gave him an idea. He asked a guard for permission to create a vegetable patch. When somebody who used to kill people in cold blood for hefty fees starts cultivating food instead, that shows he is turning over a new leaf.

  Generally, those who don’t have skills approach influential and wealthy inmates known as the khayai (big legs) and offer to be their servants. These big legs come from rich families or used to be high-ranking policemen or soldiers. They provide for less fortunate inmates in return for their services as cleaners.

  The ‘servants’ wash clothes, dishes and tidy the master’s baan (house), which is really just the small space away from the cells the inmate has claimed ownership over and uses as a spot to relax during the daytime. A house can be a gathering place for inmates of the same group or nationality or even a ‘couple’.

  Opportunistic guards try to get into the big legs’ good books as well. They befriend them for such reasons as career advancement or special favours. Big legs who used to be politicians, policemen, soldiers or state officials don’t lose their connections with bigwigs on the outside. They boast to the guards about their ability to pull strings to secure promotion or re-assignment for them to other places.

  To validate their association, some guards claim to be related to big legs by blood or to have something in common with them such as coming from the same hometown or sharing the same ancestors hundreds of years ago. Some inmates are so wealthy and powerful, the guards end up offending each other while vying to impress them.

  In Bang Kwang, not only is the character of each prisoner put to the test, but so is the character of each guard. More often than not, new guards are targets of inmates who try to befriend them, albeit with ulterior motives.

  A guard’s first days in Bang Kwang can be intimidating and so the friendliness offered by the inmates can be welcome initially.

  First, the prisoners try to find out where the newcomers are from so they can establish links with those from the same region. Each part of Thailand has its own dialect and it is easier for them to communicate in it.

  To make the new guards warm towards them, the inmates offer to make coffee, prepare snacks and give them cigarettes. Slowly, any doubts the guards may have over the sincerity of the prisoners erodes. Once the inmates are sure the bond is strong enough, they start asking the guards to return their favours with small requests such buying items for them, contacting their relatives on their behalf or secretly sending letters for them to avoid the screening. The guards who are too naïve find themselves in a dilemma because if they fulfil these seemingly innocent requests, they will violate prison rules. If they refuse, however, they will be accused of being ungrateful. Kickbacks are offered in return for carrying out risky requests such as trafficking in alcohol, cash, mobile phones, narcotics or other prohibited items.

  When I was in charge of the trustees, I arrested several inmates who were dealing drugs. One investigation led to two prison guards who had brought in the drugs. They said they needed a lot of money to get married. Given their low salaries, I could sympathise with them—but it doesn’t excuse their crimes.

  Using information from trustees, I caught a number of drug-dealers inside Bang Kwang, until a senior prison guard told me off for arresting one of his dek (subordinates). He was offended that I had caused trouble for his guy. For all I know, the trustees may have been using me to destroy the networks of their rivals so that one drug ring could monopolise the trade inside. I realised then I could have put myself in danger so I was glad when I was reassigned to another division.

  Inmates who befriend guards can also receive protection from bullies. Some prisoners boast about their wealth or the connections they have with important people on the outside to get the guards interested in them. To be on the safe side, some guards befriend them in case they might need a special favour in the future.

  Those who have the resources often get their relatives to pay ‘protection money’ to the guards to ensure their safety. Others ask for a private meeting with a high-ranking officer to show that they have powerful connections. This ploy does not always work.

  At one such a meeting, the inmate showed a business card to the warden. On it was the name of a bigwig, his rank and title. Obviously, the inmate wanted to convince the warden that he knew important people. The warden was not impressed by the card and said, ‘Since his big friend wants to entrust us with him we should make sure he is going nowhere. Shackle him.’


  The inmate’s face dropped while the guards tried to muffle their laughter.

  On the other hand, however, some flex their muscle successfully. One such inmate had his family get a high-ranking officer to visit him at the prison. Upon hearing of this, the warden arranged for him to meet the inmate in an air-conditioned office instead of the open-air visiting area and the warden himself joined them. Their conversation took place behind closed doors but what is certain is that the inmate’s status soared to new heights afterwards.

  Those without resources or connections offer to work for the guards for free giving massages, washing clothes, shining shoes or buckles. Like I’ve said, the guards are nai (masters). It is a relationship based on indebtedness and gratitude. On the one hand, it can lead to illicit activities but, on the other hand, some guards have established respectful and amicable relationships with the inmates as well. I find it odd, though, when I see young guards joining the inmates in playing music or games of football or table tennis.

  The Corrections Department does not approve of prisoners and guards getting too close. It could discourage this easily by offering better wages and conditions. Entry-level guards are paid badly and yet have to live with the daily temptation to make money through illicit deals. In times of need, people are more inclined to do take risks.

  This is a sensitive issue because not all such relation-ships are interest-based and they don’t necessarily lead to illicit deals.

  I remember one well-respected old guard who was very hands-on when it came to the welfare of the prisoners. He made sure they received equal portions of food and told the cooks not to favour their friends by giving them the choice pieces of meat while serving watery soup to the others.

  When there were riots, the guards who had earned the respect of the inmates through their conduct were asked politely to leave the building. The rest of the time, they were given massages by young prisoners.

  One senior guard in his fifties receives a massage on a regular basis. He changes his guard uniform for a sarong and sits in a foldup beach chair while his masseur, who is convicted of murder, manipulates muscles in his back and neck.

  You probably wouldn’t let a killer get his hands around your neck. In Thai culture, however, it is considered very kind for a child to treat parents or grandparents who complain of bad joints to a massage. So this means the prisoner has come to see the guard as an older relative.

  I think forming bonds with inmates is risky. There have been some incidents where the guards were penalised for fulfilling benign requests.

  One incident involved a guard who was punished for phoning a family on behalf of an inmate to remind them that the deadline for submitting a request for an individual royal pardon was drawing near and if they missed it he would surely be executed.

  Aside from opportunities to make a living, the prisoners can also get some education. Bang Kwang is like a multi-disciplinary school. There are official correspondence courses available through the Basic Education Commission Office and Sukhothai Thammathirat Open University. Prisoners can also learn practical skills at the prison factories or from other inmates that they may be able to use to rebuild their lives after prison.

  One former doctor who murdered his wife taught other inmates to help out medical staff at the prison hospital. His license to practise medicine had been revoked and it was against the rules to allow him to do so, but the reality is that, despite his conviction, his knowledge remains. It would be a waste not to allow him to put it to good use.

  Not all of them choose to be constructive. Some learn such skills as how to get rid of a body, to remove gun powder, to dismember a body, to pick a lock pick or to steal a car.

  No wonder some inmates leave Bang Kwang worse than they were when they arrived. Most of the convicts are between 25 to 35 years old when they arrive and have to serve at least 30 years old in jail. So they have ample time to pick up new interests.

  Being a servant may seem demeaning to some but some stoop even lower to survive by becoming nong (a term of endearment for female) of inmates who have the resources. Nongs are provided for by their ‘husbands’ in exchange for providing sexual relief. Of course, there are what Thai people call kathoeys (effeminate homosexuals or transsexuals) who assume the role of wife.

  The difference between these two groups is that nongs identify themselves as heterosexual men. Most of nongs choose to go against their nature out of necessity as their families are unable to support them or have rejected them. A few choose to become nongs to fund their drug addiction, while some go down this path because it seems the easiest way for them to survive. They are in short supply so if not provided for well, nongs and kathoeys move on to more generous patrons. It is a seller’s market and buyers who make the best offer win.

  Man-on-man action reportedly takes place during the lockdown after midnight when most inmates are asleep and the temperature has cooled down. The couple claims a spot in the corner of their cell. They set up a love nest with pieces of cloth to shield them from the prying eyes of their cellmates. Those who can afford a partner and a spot for a love nest are rich. Less discreet couples do it underneath a big blanket, poke their heads out when they finish and pretend nothing had happened.

  Several nongs who were heterosexual men with wives and kids when they first arrived became feminised versions of themselves after assuming the role of nong for too long. Some even become full-fledged kathoeys. The family of one nong, name Sithi, received quite a shock when they visited him after several years without contact.

  Out of the blue, he was informed that his parents, wife and child had come to see him. For any other inmate, this news would have been welcomed with nothing but joy. It was as much a cause of concern as of happiness for Sithi, however, when he met them.

  He paid his respects to his parents at their feet and hugged his wife and child. They were in shock and remained silent, however, because the smooth-skinned man with hairless arms and legs they saw was a stranger to them. Sithi sheepishly assured his parents that he was their son.

  Although they can be strained, contact visits are important in giving the inmates hope that they can be reunited with their families one day. Such visits take place twice a year and are special occasions for the prisoners. It gives them something to live for.

  During one such occasion, a wheelchair-bound

  elderly Chinese man was waiting for his relatives who used to fly to Thailand to visit him every year without fail. This time, however, there was no sign of them. He suffered a heart attack and was rushed to the prison hospital. He passed away there. Perhaps, what he saw around him—people hugging, crying tears of joy and eating together—and the thought that he had been forgotten brought on the attack. His relatives arrived minutes later and, instead of a happy reunion, they tearfully collected his body.

  It can be lonely inside even though it is overcrowded. There are about 20 inmates sharing one cell and sometimes more. The lack of privacy is one way to prevent bad incidents from happening, however. If there is a fight, there will be witnesses. If a detainee seems suicidal, others will try to talk him out of it. Those thinking of escaping will find plenty of inmates who try to stop them as they know that if there is a break-out, their lives will become harder because the rules will be enforced more strictly. Lights are on all night during the lockdown and this troubles many inmates, especially the foreigners who complain that they cannot sleep and that the lights damage their eyes.

  At the other extreme are the hardened criminals. These men continue to make a living inside from committing acts of violence or even murder. They call themselves samurai and rich inmates hire them to kill or assault their opponents. Moneylenders hire them to teach their debtors a lesson if they miss a repayment.

  They have nothing left to lose and their chances of getting out are slim. They are either serving life sentences or have cases awaiting should they
get out. They are not afraid of getting a longer sentence or being downgraded as they are already classified as the lowest in the prison. They don’t mind failing to get a sentence reduction when a mass royal pardon takes place. They don’t care about having their rights to see visitors taken away as their families have already disowned them.

  However they choose to spend their time, there is a lot of it. So the inmates find activities to distract themselves from the tedium of captivity. Some of them exercise, play musical instruments, watch TV or pet the many cats that live there too. The cats were brought in originally to combat a rat problem. Over time, their numbers have multiplied. These days, the animals serve as companions to the inmates more than predators of vermin. A fight can break out if an inmate harms a cat that is dear to another.

  Some inmates train the cats to carry small items, such as packets of instant coffee or cigarettes, to their friends in the next cell. They attach the items with adhesive tape onto the cat’s neck. Some years ago, an inmate was caught using his cat as a drug-runner. He taped the delivery onto its belly and somehow the feline managed to take the drug to his client in another building.

  Some of them use the downtime to assert their sense of self and gain recognition from their peers though, for example, getting tattoos. In Thai culture, tattoos have magic powers. Having a tattoo is like carrying a talisman on your body. In ancient times, soldiers believed tattoos could protect them against sharp weapons, making their skin impenetrable and them indestructible. Fast-forward to the present day Bangkok Hilton and it serves a new purpose. Some young, good-looking newcomers told me they didn’t care about aesthetics or occult powers as long as the ink on their bodies made them less desirable targets for rape by the senior inmates. Tattoos can also represent gang insignia.

  Some inmates also pass the time by engaging in a very disturbing activity: genital mutilation. I’ve been told that there are three types of penis mutilation in Bang Kwang. The first is called ‘Benz-surgery’, whereby the head is scarred so that it will look like the Mercedes-Benz logo when it heals. Inmates who get their genitals scarred in this way claim they are men’s men. Well, the prison version. How they come to that conclusion is beyond me.