2 Comments From Over 6 Years Of International Living
11-08-2015, 11:13 AM
Quote: (11-08-2015 09:24 AM)Going strong Wrote:
Quote: (11-07-2015 02:47 PM)CitizenLiberty Wrote:
Quote: (11-07-2015 12:34 PM)LINUX Wrote:
I want know more about the corruption they tried to pull on you.
Can you elaborate or is it still pending?
i've got no problems talking about most of it, but it's a very long story.
how much do you know about utila island?
regarding the corrupt united states consulate, he was good friends with the guy who had me put in jail.
corrupt from the start, when mr consulate visited me in my jail cell playing friendly ignorant, "i've been livin down here for 7 years and i ain't never had any problems...", "...this has been the most reeeelaxin job ever."
some days later i met another american in the same jail. he had gotten the same story from the same consulate. he was also put in jail under false charges, age 60 or so, retired, had been living on his boat in belize before sailing down to honduras. was thrown in jail after some locals demanded a false "tax" for anchoring his boat in some public area. refused to pay the "tax", then went to jail with claims of threatening, and attempted murder surfacing after he was already imprisoned.
my situation was kind of similar in that each day in jail the claims against me got more and more ridiculous. directly previous to going to jail i had a local authentically try to kill me. after he failed he had the police come and throw me in jail. the local was in the cocaine business, which is big business in utila (colombian submarine route) that the local police, and gov are heavily involved in. in other words, it's easy to get favors.
You survived being jailed in Belize (or Honduras), as an American, and without external protection.
This is Midnight Express stuff, man, respect to you... could you tell us a bit more about this experience?
![[Image: midnight-express-0.jpg]](http://htmlgiant.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/midnight-express-0.jpg)
Not exactly Midnight Express when you're only in jail 5/6 days. But it definitely could have been if I didn't run off from the guys trailing (escorting) me as I got off the ferry to the mainland in La Ceiba. Honduras is a fucked up place..
The jail cell they had me in was 2 by 3 meters or something. The jail-house baked in the sun, so my specific cell got to well over 40C during the day with almost no air-circulation.
No toilet there. You get to piss and shit on the cement in the corner or your cell.
No bed. Furniture was a half-broken milk-crate that I sat on to avoid the only other furniture, which was my own and the previous guests piss and shit.
Police had exciting games for me. Flood the upstairs toilet (directly over my cell) and let the sewage drip through the floorboards onto me was a clever one.
Communist cocksucker Honduran dictator Zelaya had given the police modern weaponry. They seemed to enjoy it as they shined their lasers on me at night, occasionally saying something like “I am Rambo.”
They don't feed you or give you water (although I presume they would have), so you have to rely on a friend coming to visit and dropping you off something. I preferred this; at least I knew I wasn't eating shit, literally.
Sitting on that milk-crate was an even more exciting experience as I had severe injuries including a broken disk in my back, smashed face, and neck that was so fucked up that it was basically frozen.
I think it was 3 nights before going to jail that my friend and I got jumped in a nightclub.
First I got attacked when I came out of the toilet, then my friend who was waiting outside the toilet got attacked by some others. I was bashing the head in of the guy who attacked me until some huge Samoan looking oaf grabbed me from behind and slammed me backwards onto the concrete floor (broken disk). Then half a dozen guys were kicking my head in, until some little Caribbean fisherman friend recognized us and jumped in Manny Pac style hitting everyone. I got up and started smashing bottles, getting my friend free. Meanwhile a good part of the whole club is brawling like old western film; so much tension between groups on the island.
Then corrupt police come into the club and shoot-up the roof with automatic weapons. My friend and the fisherman guy go to jail. I don't for whatever reason. Guy who set it off, hitting me as I left the toilet, is the brother of the newly elected mayor.
The lunatic who tried to kill me days later first got the courage to confront me with his friend this same night after my friends had gone to jail. A local who I never met before came and backed me up heavy. The lunatic and him had prior history.
Eating popcorn yet?