Burgers sizzle at Golden Hut Hamburger, while Cokes are racked at ramshackle stands beside a dozen rough-hewn pool tables, all handmade by inmates. Soaring voices sing the psalms at no less than 13 churches in the Maximum Security compound alone. They find no shortage of converts. Many convicts credit the supplemental church rations rather than newfound spiritual zeal for the high conversion rate. Hawkers circulate with fake Rayban sunglasses.
Basketballs bounce on prison courts as families munch pansit at adjoining picnic grounds.
Benches and tables are painted in proud swirls. There are vegetable gardens, chicken coops, ducks and geese wandering the dirt prison yard. Mothers, wives, girlfriends and children have free rein on visiting days. Except in the dark hole known as Building One - Death Row. The place reeks of gas burners, sewage, sweat and fear.