The Time I got a Rub-down by an Inmate in Chiang Mai

Confession Time: When I was 5 years old I stole a Land Before Time sticker set from a local convenience store.

I felt a rush of excitement leaving the store (But that’s pretty obvious, right? I mean, I now had Petri and Littlefoot…in sticker form). But minutes later, I felt like a dirty rotten no-good criminal (which by the way, are some pretty extreme feelings to deal with when you’re only 5 years old…..).

To try to remedy the situation, I confided in my older brother.

Wide-eyed and full of older brother lies, he promptly told me that the course of punishment for stealing dinosaur stickers is always a life sentence in prison. No begging. No pleading. Not even an award-winning tantrum could change this. 

To make matters worse, my brother also convinced me that this prison place does not take pity on a sticky fingers kindergartener. Allegedly, you don’t get any toys in prison. AND as further punishment, they serve you meatloaf everyday. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. No exceptions.

Completely terrified of my upcoming meat-based diet, I knew I had only once choice left: I would become a run-away kindergarten convict.

I packed a bag full of Barbies and their accompanying Ninja Turtles van and announced to my family that I was leaving the comforts of Southwestern Ontario and “running away to North America.”

(Even at a young age, I clearly had massively ambitious travel plans…not to mention a clear misunderstanding of world geography).

After some tantrum-sobbing and a heart-wrenching confessional, my parents convinced me to forgo my future as a juvenile offender (or a milk carton missing child) and just return the stickers. And I can proudly say that minus that little incident, my criminal record has been pretty much spotless ever since. And consequently, my contact with any correctional institution has been pretty much non-existent.

But that was before I visited Chiang Mai, of course.

(Suspenseful leading sentence, right??)

Hours after a restless overnight train from Bangkok, I was entering Chiang Mai Women’s Correctional Institute. But the thing is,  I wasn’t being imprisoned for stealing dinosaur stickers again.

Instead, I was taking part in the institute’s creative rehabilitation program which offers inmates a chance to learn (and apply) new vocational skills while finishing the last 6 months of their sentence.

From baking to sewing to brewing up mind-blowing apple-carrot slushies, Chiang Mai’s Correctional Institute teaches inmates applicable skills and empowers these women by giving them the resources necessary to readjust into mainstream society. (Helloooooo social worky sentences. It’s been awhile.)

Among the services offered, massages are available. But given my strong aversion to masseuses, I was hesitant to commit.

Clearly, I was scared. I mean, when you go to a prison to get a massage, “relaxing” isn’t really the first thing that comes to mind. Something more like “torture” and “I’m going to get attacked by some burly tattooed inmate that could probably crunch me in milliseconds” are probably a bit more fitting. But I went anyways. It’s all about the cause right? (Right?!)

But instead of those preconceived images of she-hulks and dishes of meatloaf EVERYWHERE,  I was greeted by a cheerful girl who couldn’t have been older than 18. She tried to convince me that she was as harmless as her smile full of rainbow-coloured braces. Like a fool, I believed her.

Without wasting any time, she began to twist my body into a multitude of wrestling moves and pressure holds. I’m pretty sure I blacked out for the next hour.

But sometimes when I close my eyes, I get these nightmares flashes of Rainbow Bright  punching my armpits, jabbing her elbows into my heels, and pulling each and every finger and toe out of their respective sockets. I’m breaking a cold sweat just thinking (and typing) about it.

As uncomfortable (and painful! geesh.) as the massage was, the forward-thinking and solution-focused ideas in place at this institute are admirable (I know I know. Next time I’ll warn ya before I toss out more social worky sentences).

So I guess paying to get beat up by Rainbow Bright wasn’t all that bad. With all the proceeds going directly to the ladies once they’re released, I felt like I was contributing to a solution. A solution for grown-ups that are faced with a whole whack of issues once they try to rehabilitate themselves into a world full of tempting things…like dinosaur sticker sets.

If you compare Chiang Mai’s rehabilitation program to those worldwide, I’m confident these ladies are given ton of support and opportunities for successful futures.  And the fact that there has been ZERO reoffenders since the program started kind of supports that last social worky sentence.

And the best part about Chiang Mia’s Rehabilitation Program?

They don’t have to eat meatloaf every day.