The Big House and Hoops

I arrived in Monrovia at 3:00 AM and I was inside the Central Prison by noon. Just visiting (Monopoly-style) of course. While waiting to enter the front gate, a pickup truck arrived with a fresh batch of criminals. Handcuffed in pairs and facing opposite directions so they couldn't run away, the newbies protested to no avail as we nervously watched and a few Bangladeshi UN peacekeeping troops hung out nearby. Then we entered the prison compound and were told to walk single-file like a class of first graders. We passed the gate of the female block, where I caught a glimpse of half a dozen women sitting around, looking bored. Then I looked up and into the eyes of a couple prisoners staring out of their barred windows. We turned a corner and the place suddenly came alive with frightening energy. A chaotic building to the right housed an ultra rowdy prison crowd. I'm not sure if it was a soccer game on TV, a live Rocky-like boxing match, or something much worse. I imagine the inside being something like Shredder and the Foot Clan's hangout from the Ninja Turtles movie. Workers toiled in front of us and a three-story building to the left held many more intense sets of eyes trained on us. We sat in a small waiting room with a long chalkboard listing the number of current prisoners for each crime. Armed Robbery: 170, Rape: 115 Murder: 60. And so on. An inmate popped into the doorway asking someone for food. Soon we began the orderly march out of there, besieged by a wall of hard faces and deflecting the half-hearted begging from behind bars. We're glad you made it, Grant, this is the prison.

On a lighter note, I happily discovered this is a basketball nation. Thanks to the heavy American influence, basketball is even more popular than soccer. At a preseason game featuring the two best teams in Liberia, I was shocked. The outdoor arena was awesome. The rims had real nets. The backboards were glass. They played hip-hop music at timeouts. And the talent was honestly fantastic. For a minute I wasn't sure if I was in West Africa or East Harlem. A pleasant surprise and a home comfort.