Finding a Community Behind Bars
In the grim confines of Insein Prison, Sean Turnell found a flicker of hope in the camaraderie amongst his fellow inmates, as he discussed on a recent podcast episode. Despite being thrust into an environment of despair, Sean was warmly welcomed by the prisoners, who surged towards him, led by Paing Ye Thu, a young, vibrant leader with an infectious spirit. The exchange of greetings, "Mingalabar Saya Sean" (Hello Professor Sean), handshakes, fist bumps, and shy hugs, offered Sean a sense of belonging and safety. His new friends, who had been expecting him, bombarded him with questions and expressed their apologies for his ordeal. Sean's bond with these prisoners, whom he affectionately called his 'protector avengers,' transformed what could have been the worst day of his life into a testament to human resilience and solidarity.
“This worst moment of my life, his smiling face is something I’ll never be able to forget. But so many others as well. There was a huge crowd of them, who came to help me.”
This is the real upside to the whole story, that people in Myanmar are so courageous and compassionate. After this sort of horror entry into the prison, I'm taken into Ward Four, which was this area of Insein prison where I was going to be housed. The first thing that happened, the guard had brought me into this compound, and this young man came up to me with a jolly face and a T-shirt, inexplicably with Daw Suu on it, came up to me with a big smile on his face and just said, ‘Sean, you're okay, now. You're safe. You're with us.’ And I'll just never forget the moment!
But having the thought as well, ‘Well, yeah. But we're all here. We're all in prison.’ But that young man, who I can name, because he's safely not in the junta’s clutches anymore, his name is Paing Ye Thu, a very well-known, young democracy activist, been in touch with him since, just wonderful. I mean, this worst moment of my life, his smiling face is something I’ll never be able to forget. But so many others as well. There was a huge crowd of them, who came to help me.
One particular man to highlight, at this point as well, in that it's both a great story, a wonderful story of generosity and compassion, but also with a tragic ending, is Khin Maung Shwe. A Muslim-Burmese guy, who lived all his life in Yangon, extraordinary person, dominant personality, someone that the prison guards were frightened of. And I think more than anything, it wasn't really his physicality or anything, but he had just moral authority. And I think tragically, that that would be his undoing, because the guards, I think, simultaneously disliked him for that, but they’d also feed him.
But he did so much for me. At a practical level, he was one of the leaders of clearing this cell up. I was put into this dreadful cell that was filth personified, a century of it, just this awful place. And he sort of led the charge with Paing Ye Thu and some of the others, fixing it up and making it habitable for me. And then I would join him for meals and things like that. And we would chat about everything. Marvelous character.
So, both of those stand out, but actually, all of them were great to me, which is why I'm just lost in gratitude to so many people in Myanmar. Mostly, they were political prisoners. Most of them were young; they were the people there under Section 505. That's the majority of them.
I don't want to leave out just the normal criminal prisoners, as well. There were some of those. And they were also incredibly generous to me and caring. I can't really say enough. But it also highlights the extraordinary incongruity of the moment, because again, I'm this mild-mannered, academic guy of low esteem particularly or anything, and here I am mixing it up with people who were in prison for all sorts of offenses, including international narcotics trafficking, there were a few murderers, there were forgers, there were all sorts of people, most of whom, there's only one exception, actually, the rest of them were all incredibly supportive.