01x04 - Episode 4

[bunniefuu]

Michaella McCollum,

a woman from Northern Ireland

jailed for drug smuggling in Peru

three years ago

was released on parole on Thursday.

Melissa Reid remains in prison.

That's me.

Michaella!

How do you feel? How is it?

Michaella McCollum.

Caught with 11 kilograms of cocaine

hidden in their luggage.

Aged 20,

I became one half of the "Peru Two".

- What is your nationality?

- Irish.

And owner

of the world's most infamous up-do.

They said they'd been forced

to carry the drugs,

but those claims turned out to be lies.

You might wonder how

a regular kid from rural Northern Ireland

could wind up here

in a maximum-security prison

in South America.

Michaella McCollum

could be jailed for 15 years.

My family certainly did.

It was like someone had died.

And the whole world seemed

to have something to say about it.

- Michaella McCollum.

- Michaella McCollum.

If they're drug dealers,

if they're trying to smuggle cocaine

worth 1.5 million pounds,

then they deserve

all that they are getting.

Their family were

hounded by the media.

It is what people are talking about.

One bad decision

looks set to wreck my life.

The big question was why?

What made them do it?

She obviously made the decision,

but then what's behind it?

Well, this is the story

of how I got myself into this mess.

And

Michaella McCollum flew into Dublin,

out of prison and out of Peru.

how I managed

to get myself out of it.

Camera speed, everyone ready?

Okay, Michaella, let's go.

6 years and 8 months.

6 years

and 8 months.

I'd worked it out to 344 weeks

in one of the toughest prisons in Peru.

And to avoid getting twice that,

I'd had to give up some information

on the cartel guys

whose coke I got busted with.

Okay, so I hadn't told them that much.

Just some details that might

help them work out

what town in Majorca the apartment

we stayed in might have been.

But I guess I might not have seen it

that way

if I was Julio who lived

in that apartment.

The whole thing

was like a nightmare.

It was like the worst nightmare

that could ever come upon a person.

And for them,

the language barrier was a problem.

A lot of times I would get there,

and I would see

both of them very distressed.

I could see it in their eyes.

I could see how they were suffering.

I felt it in my heart a lot, you know.

And that's why I decided to help.

Andrea's kindness

and what she did for us

made such a massive difference

at the start.

The whole place was just so toxic.

Um

Everything about it was toxic.

The majority of the people were toxic.

The first thing I noticed about Ancón was

it was so manic and crazy and noisy

like it sounded like a zoo.

It just felt like you were

in this mad house.

I remember being so scared

and I was obviously really intimidated

'cause we were foreign, you know.

Obviously like a lot of people

were really, like

gunning for me.

I still couldn't really get my head around

the fact I'd be spending my 20s here.

Without Andrea, Melissa,

and this old radio we had in our cell,

I don't know how I would have

gotten through those early weeks.

Playing music was an escape for me.

It felt like music just

makes you so happy.

I would listen to it as much as possible.

It was just some old fashioned thing,

but every night I'd tune it in

and imagine I was somewhere else.

Falling asleep listening to the music.

To my surprise,

they put me in a room with her.

When I first met Miguelina,

I was definitely like

intimidated.

Everybody was staring.

Everybody was watching,

but they didn't get very close.

It was said they were very snobby.

She annoyed me a lot,

because she left the music on at night.

And she didn't let me sleep.

So one day I got up and punched her

and said, "Turn off this music!"

and she jumped like this.

Although the nights locked in

with my cellmates weren't easy,

the days when I'd have to go

into the workshops

with the rest of the prisoners

were even worse.

One of the things I kind of noticed

about Ancón quite quickly was

they were just so active sexually.

The way people would behave like that

and the fact I couldn't understand

a word anyone was saying

just added to this whole

confusing mad feel of the place.

But really, it wasn't what they might do

if they liked me

that I was most worried about.

To k*ll a person is a business

of two, three seconds.

You can hire a sicario in a Peruvian jail,

and they can k*ll her.

They can even, you know

strangle the woman

and nobody will have seen anything

and deny it.

Or give them some poison.

In Colombia and Peru,

they have this brewed Changa.

This is like a drug. It's a

A few grams of things they put it

in a Coca-Cola,

in a glass of water, you're dead.

So, imagine what kind of threat

can receive Michaella.

One day we were

in the workshops,

a lot of people were making handbags

or like making scarves or like making

a variety of different kind of things.

This Peruvian girl from one

of the big gangs

sat down next to me.

She was whispering something in Spanish.

And then she grabbed this massive needle

and went crazy.

She just leaped across the table

and started attacking this other girl.

Her blood and hair were everywhere.

I was just relieved it wasn't mine.

It turned out it was some dispute

over drugs.

People would do stuff like that

all the time in there.

And at first, I could never

quite shake off the feeling

I might be next.

After the first few

horrendous months there,

I did slowly start to drop my guard a bit,

or perhaps I just got used to

having it up the whole time.

But there had been no news

of any big Ibiza drug busts,

and I kind of figured

if they wanted me dead,

it would have happened by now.

I visited them every week,

once or twice a week.

They were under a lot of stress.

And a lot of people would lose it.

On one visit, I told them,

"Treat this as a learning experience."

"Learn Spanish,

learn about another culture."

Even though it was a very difficult time,

I really wanted them to leave

this horrible situation

with something positive.

At the time, I thought

she was just being encouraging.

What else was there for her to say,

really?

But later on,

I realized Andrea was right.

I've owned up to a lot of moments in this

that I'm really ashamed about,

but we finally got to the first

of the ones I'm actually proud of.

I couldn't change where I was,

or what they did to me in here.

So I decided to change

the only thing I could change,

me.

There was no point feeling sorry

for myself and moping around,

like I really needed to take action

and I kind of thought, like,

"How do I want to use my time here?"

Learning Spanish is number one,

I need to be able to communicate.

I had like a little dictionary

so if I was having a conversation with

somebody I would have my dictionary.

And they may say one word,

so I'm busy trying to find out

what that word is in the dictionary,

but then they have already started

talking about something else

so I'm kind of like

trying to chase what they're saying.

I didn't know it then,

but without that moment,

that and my little Spanish dictionary,

I don't think I'd be sitting here

talking to you like I am now.

It was starting to learn Spanish

that really set me on the path

to get my life back.

I used to practice with Gonzalez.

She used to kind of

want to learn basic English

and I taught her some English

and she taught me some Spanish.

That's how she spent her time.

She wouldn't spend it

sleeping like the other girls.

She was always moving.

Michaella, she had a lot of spirit.

She had a lot of strength

to be able to deal with these things.

Even just being able

to say the basics to people

and to understand a bit of what

they were trying to say to me

made a massive difference.

For the first time since I got to Ancón,

I was starting to feel a little more

like my normal self again.

But those last few months of hell

had taken their toll.

I definitely did not look like myself.

When I came to prison,

I remember everybody thought

I was like an albino

because I was so pale.

Like, I was so, so white

and it really annoyed me

because everyone kept thinking I was sick.

So I remember I wanted to look more normal

of how I looked on like the outside world

but I didn't have access to that.

I would see them wearing make-up

all the time

and they would have their nails

freshly painted

I just didn't understand

how they did all of that stuff.

Like, where did they go to,

to get this stuff done?

Eventually, I learned their secret.

The prison had its very own beauty salon.

Actually it was more like a few chairs

and mirrors and a concrete room,

but for me, it was heaven.

I remember feeling like a little kid

thinking, "oh, my gosh, this was amazing,"

like I didn't know this place existed.

I got a job

and I spent most of my time working.

It really helped my Spanish come on

and working there meant I didn't have

to be in the workshops anymore.

Michaella had a beauty parlor

and she made money.

The prison system in Peru isn't like in

the United States or maybe like England

where people wear jumpsuits,

and they don't handle cash.

People in Peru, they have businesses.

They sell things.

I would do kind of like

different kind of hair treatments,

coloring and cutting and blow-dries.

Waxing, nails, massages,

basically the majority of things

that you would get done at a salon.

I had no real qualifications

or experience.

I guess I was just winging it and just

you know, making it up as I went along.

People weirdly trusted me to do stuff.

But I was good at it.

I kind of had like a lot of clients

and a lot of people came to me, so

I think I must have been

doing something right.

That spoke a lot

about her personality, like,

if she really wants something,

she goes out and she gets it.

What I wanted now

was to get the hell out of here.

And really, the salon

and the money it made me

was the next step to making that happen.

It took me to, like,

being six months in prison

for me to realize everybody else here

is kind of like on the same boat.

'Cause obviously when you're

spending two hours with somebody

they're going to be talking

and, you know,

they'll probably be telling you things

that they wouldn't normally

walk up to somebody and say.

I felt like I really got to see people

for who they really were.

I think I formed relationships

a lot deeper in prison.

We had a great relationship.

I would sit in my bed

and she would sit opposite me on a chair,

and we would talk and talk and talk

until they turned off the light.

She would ask,

"How long have you got left, Miguelina?"

I have been here 11 years and 4 months.

All this time

since I haven't been with my family.

A mother is a mother.

You understand?

I know my kids are suffering. I know.

I have a grandson who is four as well.

He says, "Mama, where are you

and when are you coming home?"

and I say, "I'll be there soon, my love."

That's where our relationship

as friends began.

And I got to know Miguelina.

Yeah, she was like a really lovely person.

I knew she was so soft

and, like, she's quite witty

and really, really funny.

She looked at me like a little girl.

Like I was just a baby in her eyes.

She would even say I was her mother.

She would say, "Mum, Mum."

And I saw her as a daughter.

I learnt plenty

I wasn't expecting to in Ancón.

But that didn't mean I was any keener

on spending the rest of my 20s there.

And about halfway through

our second year, something happened

that would really set me

on the path to freedom.

Each block had a delegada,

like a delegate,

an elected head prisoner

who was in charge of everything

that happens on that block.

Our delegada decided to step down,

and they announced there was going

to be an election

to choose her replacement.

A lot of people were saying,

"Oh, will you be it?"

I kind of like wanted

to test myself as well

'cause I was thinking,

"Oh, I've learnt all these things,"

or, you know,

"I think I've learnt all these things."

This would be a great way

to kind of test myself.

I genuinely thought

I could help the people there.

I was like f*ck it,

I'm just going to do it.

I was up against another,

like, Mexican woman

who had been in prison for, like, 10 years

so she had like a huge Mexican following

so I kind of thought it was

quite obvious who would get that role.

Once the drawing was complete

I'd won.

And then, yeah, we had some

fizzy juice and snacks

and that was our celebration.

I was the first English-speaking person

to ever have that role.

Almost everybody voted Michaella.

You could see she had good qualities,

and that she was an honest person,

so that's why

she was chosen as our delegate.

Really did try to improve things.

I got water filters

so we could all have clean water.

A new microwave.

And we would have evenings

where we would have an hour of dancing

so people could just let loose.

Just to add some more excitement

or, like, something to look forward to.

From then on,

I knew that having my own money

and the power

would definitely help me

move my paperwork

and start my whole process.

I was told that if I paid

for a court date,

I would get a court date a lot quicker.

I could pay for a slot

rather than waiting the average year

or, you know, 16 months.

So I just sent money.

The bribes and getting the paperwork ready

would have cost about 1,000 dollars.

It was a lot of money

to pay somebody to do their job

that they're getting paid to do anyway,

but I knew by paying it,

I would get the job done

and that's all I wanted.

After months of waiting and hoping,

I was finally given my court date.

I could not even think about

not getting out,

and I'm going to have to wait a year

before I would get that opportunity again.

It was all or nothing.

I knew I would really break

if I didn't get this.

The judge just sat there in reserve.

It was mainly the prosecutor

who was grilling me.

She was like, "This lady

doesn't have any rights to parole,

so I'm not going to waste my time."

My heart sunk.

This is the moment of truth

for you to prove that

you are ready to be freed.

I felt like, "Oh, sh*t.

How am I going to, like,

convince these people

that I had changed?"

I wanted to prove to them

that I was like serious

and that I wasn't just

messing about in here.

I didn't just make a stupid mistake

and not care.

And I wanted them to know

that I saw now how I'd ended up here.

When I went to Ibiza,

I didn't admit that I was running away,

even though secretly I knew I was running.

I mean, I'd always been running.

I would never approach my problems.

And then

I just fell in a stupid trap again

of making stupid decisions.

Of course I feel like

if I didn't meet Davey,

none of this would have happened.

After I got arrested,

I hated him.

But then I kind of feel like

if it was somebody else and not him,

would I have done it?

I probably still would have.

Now that I look back, I realise how stupid

and how easily I would have said yes

to most things.

I wanted them to understand

that I can be 20 and super young

and make a really stupid mistake.

And like how the mistakes

I've made in the past

have given me this chance

to, like, learn and grow.

How all I want is to be with my family

again and have a normal life.

I was in that much of, like, ideas

that I didn't even realize

that they had, like

granted me my release.

I was, like, trembling.

I really just could not believe

that this was happening.

She actually did it herself.

That's another very interesting thing

about Michaella.

She is very hands-on and independent.

I think that this whole situation

made her even more intelligent

and more street smart,

having to, like, defend herself

in a prison made her more mature.

Um

I think that she's

a very strong, strong woman.

I admire her.

It was the longest morning ever.

Time was just staying still.

Melissa came with me to

as far as she was allowed to go.

It was really emotional

leaving Melissa behind.

I'd spent so much time with her.

She was waiting for her court hearing

and I remember looking at her

when I was leaving,

and I just felt so sorry for her

because, "You're still going to have

to continue this nightmare for longer."

Eventually, they opened the door.

And I was like, I don't actually know

where I'm supposed to go.

And they were like,

"Yeah, but you're free."

It was really, really sunny

and it was like a beautiful day.

And there was this long road.

So I just walked.

And at the bottom of the hill,

I see my family standing there.

And then I just ran.

All I could hear was my sandals flopping.

My mum greeted me first

and we just like hugged like freaks

for like 10 minutes standing there.

And the guards were like,

"Okay, go on now," like,

they were just watching us

and we just stood there hugging.

Once I got into the car

I looked at the place and I was like,

"Oh, my God, like how was I in there?"

Like I found it really hard to believe

that I came out of there

after almost three years.

The people who commit these crimes

need to fulfill their sentence.

They must reintegrate into society

to do other types of activities.

And if their conscious allows them,

show how they can be a testimony,

so that the others don't commit

the errors that they did.

If she is doing that I believe it is

because she recognized she made a mistake.

Going back to Lima airport

was a weird feeling,

but all the better 'cause this time,

the only thing in my suitcase

was my clothes.

I was going to miss the friends

I'd made in prison

more than I'd ever have

believed at the start.

And one of the terms of my parole was

that I'd never be allowed

to set foot in Peru again.

So it was a weird feeling

to be leaving forever,

but at the same time,

just the biggest relief to be going home.

Everybody could not wait

to see how she was doing.

She looked really well.

Her hair had been changed.

It was blonde and that did not go down

very well at all.

People were outraged.

People started asking the question,

"I thought she was in a hellhole prison.

She looks like she's just

stepped out of a beauty salon."

She should be allowed to move on,

but should people forget

of what happened to her? Absolutely not.

If it was me,

would I be comfortable coming back home

when people could abuse me

know me as a cocaine smuggler?

Somewhere where that is

hugely frowned upon.

And I think all that combined

just makes it very hard for people.

Anything you want ♪

You could be having it all ♪

It's always going to be

in the background.

You know that she did

something that was reprehensible.

Some people probably would not

maybe be able to

make allowances for her.

And some people will always

maybe hold that against her.

And some people would maybe even doubt

as to whether or not

she is totally sincere.

I think a lot will depend

on Michaella herself.

Certainly, I think

she can speak with credibility.

She can speak out of her experience.

That's how she will be judged.

'Cause I'm a warrior ♪

I get that some people

will always find it hard to forgive me

for what I did.

Listen, there's lots of days

I find it hard to forgive myself.

And anyway, there's a kind of person

who doesn't even want to believe

someone can change.

I know what I did

and I'm not proud of that,

but I also know who I am now.

And what I did with my life

after I massively f*cked up.

And that person, I am proud of.

And if there's one thing

I'd like anyone to take from this,

other than don't try and smuggle

a shitload of drugs

through an international airport,

is that when you're young,

you don't know it all.

And you can screw things up big time,

but you don't have to let that

define the rest of your life.

Even if some people wanted to.

You can do the right thing.

And you can change who you are.

And you can get on living.

I made a dreadful mistake and I regret it,

but what prison taught me,

made me who I am today.

And that's a better person

than I would have been otherwise.

I'm a mom now,

and I'm going to get on with

being the best one I can.