Caring for cons

Within the 5x10m prison cell home to around 20 men, Steve’s attention was drawn to the weighty butcher’s knife raised towards him. In Crocodile Dundee-style, the inmate magnanimously reached out, “Here, use this knife. It will cut much better”.

With relief and gratitude, Steve discarded his scissors that had been carefully checked through security and had required a guard escort (cameras, which are far more dangerous, are allowed under NO circumstances). He took the butchers knife and attacked the ill-fitting mattress. It didn’t cut much better, so another prisoner offered his knife - each prisoner had at least one for cooking his own food despite the obvious security risk. Hungry tummies are riskier still.

Steve had been visiting a particular inmate every other day for the last three weeks. First, he had visited him at the police hospital that has a room for desperately ill prisoners that is best described as the Nil-Care-Unit where a doctor is rarely seen and patients mostly die of neglect. Later, the patient had been moved back out to the medical unit based at one of the prisons outside of Phnom Penh.

The man had a mystery illness that wasn’t responding to treatment so Steve was just making him as comfortable as possible while staff of Prison Fellowship worked to gain more tests. He had also taught two other inmates how to assist the patient in his daily exercise program. The mattress was the only one in the prison’s medical ward where the other patients lay on woven mats or bare boards.

It’s a luxury that he’s going to need as he might be waiting there for a while. There is much red-tape to wade through to get the necessary tests and if an operation is required, there will be much more. Steve fears it will all probably be too late for the patient who will most likely sustain irreparable damage as a result of the delays.

The take home lesson?

Don’t break the law in Cambodia, even if it looks like everyone else is.