Expensive Holiday in Bali Part 2: Bribes and hospital stay
My arrival at the Polda (police station) turned into another long wait followed by several interrogations. "Where did you buy the weed? Who was the intended destination? Why have you traveled so often to South America?" The questions kept coming, and I insisted I was a medical cannabis user, unaware of how illegal it was to bring my stash to Indonesia. At this point, they asked if I had a lawyer; obviously, I did not, nor did I have a phone or any freedoms I could remember. I found myself in a larger waiting room with another man, an angel sent from heaven. He was a wealthy businessman who had just been on a weekend trip in Ibiza, leaving a pill of ecstasy in his pocket. Through his connections, he contacted a Balinese lawyer named Edward, promising to avoid jail in exchange for a large sum. I jumped at the opportunity, politely asking him to introduce me to this legal team. He obliged, and then enter the lawyers.
Fear games from the lawyers and extorsion
A game of fear and psychological manipulation started. The lawyers explained I faced a possible 5-10 year jail sentence in Bali's worst prison, Kerobokan. I visited it later to see what I managed to avoid—a completely frightening place. The lawyers made me understand that paying about €120,000 upfront would help me avoid Kerokaban prison. Instead, I'd spend a few months locked up in the police hospital (faking gastroenteritis) and then in a rehab facility. There would be a trial, and after being found guilty, they'd find a way to get me out of the country to avoid the imposed sentence. I had to prove I was a medical cannabis user and not trafficking drugs into the country. Everyone got paid—police guards, doctors, clerks, judges. It was a literal mouse trap, and luckily, I had some crypto holdings, though not enough to cover the cost they were asking.
I was told to start coming up with the money quickly so they could help me go to the hospital and start the process. They mentioned the police were in a rush, and if I didn't come up with money quickly, I might be sent to Bali Kerobokan one of the world's most famous prisons. I was so afraid I stopped eating, spending about 10 days living in the police station. Most of the police were friendly, curious about life outside Indonesia, asking how I could be so stupid to bring drugs into the country. My head hung in shame, and I cried more often than I wish to remember in those days of uncertainty. Eventually, I made a couple of payments through help from people on the other side who sold my coins and transferred funds to the lawyer team to start distributing bribes and get me out of trouble.
Next stop Police Hospital
Upon my departure from the Polda police station, I was driven handcuffed in a prisoner van to the Police hospital, supposed to be a health facility for high-ranking police officers and members of the Indonesian military. Nonetheless, cockroaches and even a rat were part of the fauna of this unsterilized atmosphere. I was locked up in a tiny cell, more like a dark cave. Here, I felt like a monkey in the zoo, with dozens of people coming to look at me, take photographs, and even dare to smirk and laugh. The humiliation was terrible, and it felt like things were getting worse instead of better.
Isolation and humiliation
Then enter the lawyers and the fear and manipulation game again. They claimed one of the police officers leading the investigation demanded that I be sent to prison, as it appeared I was healthy with no need for medical attention. The lawyer told me this was a huge problem because this man would not take bribes. I might go to Kerokoban prison. Furious but weak with despair, I couldn't even speak. I had already sent quite a bit of money, and now what? Fake promises and might I actually go to that messed-up jail everyone feared? Now I had to see another doctor for a second opinion. We went back to the prison van, and this inspector sat in front of me. I pushed myself to vomit as hard as I could as we drove, managing to break into a full sweat and begin vomiting profusely all over the interior of the van. The smell was terrible, and I looked like I was dying. That seemed to do the trick. Upon arrival, the doctor certified that I was not healthy and needed to stay in the hospital until the trial began.
After a few days of living in that tiny dark hellhole, speaking of a hole, that's what I used as a bathroom. But more than a hole, it looked like an endless pit. So now I was able to move into a hospital room along with another roommate. This person had been caught in similar circumstances, bribed his way into the hospital, and was awaiting the same process as me. We had two guards who watched us 24 hours a day, taking turns in shifts and basically living with us for 12 hours at a time. Our lawyers had to give the guards cash every day to make sure they treated us well and allowed us to go out and smoke every once and so often.
The meals weren't great, so we relied on the Gojek app for our food. Bali's culinary offerings, on the other hand, were truly divine. Whether it was due to not using cannabis, excessive drinking, or simply indulging in hearty meals—maybe a combination of all three—I left the island carrying an extra 50 kilos compared to my current weight.
Time in the Police hospital in Bali
Our time in the hospital was rather dull. We formed connections with the friendly guards and dreaded encounters with the less pleasant ones. Three times a week, we underwent drug rehabilitation in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber. Initially entertained by Indonesian movies on ultra-small screens inside the chamber—though lacking subtitles—we eventually turned to books.
In an attempt to better my health, I quit smoking cigarettes for a short period, trying out vaping instead. Realizing my mistake, I quickly returned to smoking cigarettes. The stress of my Balinese holiday led to an almost 3-pack-a-day habit, taking a severe toll on my health.
At this point, I had paid about 80% of the expected total fees and was having trouble getting more money. I tried a GoFundMe and some posts on social media when I quickly realized that I could not do such a thing. My case had to be hush-hush. If the media caught wind of it, I would be going straight to jail, and I could forget about my chances of getting out as promised, and there was obviously not going to be a money-back guarantee. This took several weeks, and the fear and manipulation games from the lawyers continued and even added several new payments from new participants in our little game that also wanted to get paid, or in some cases, just judges demanding bigger bribes. You never knew if it was just another lie, but even though I was resentful and backed into a corner, I had to be grateful that these people were still going to save my life and return me to my children eventually. I spent a total of about 2 and a half months in this hospital, the stay was not horrible, but we yearned to move on to whatever the lawyers had prepared for us next. There was even talk of private villas with pools for rent for the remainder of our stay. I could not believe what I was hearing.
To be continued.
If you missed part one of my story you can visit it here = Expensive holiday in Bali Part 1
