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Journey into Disaster
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13.01. I tremble
What does the German Thomas Heger, who was arrested in the Philippines, experience in the Hall of Justice?
13.01. I tremble
On the back of the yellow t-shirt is printed in bold black letters: “PNP Detainee.” It’s definitely some sizes too small. I squeeze myself in, look like a pressed sausage and am afraid that it will burst the first time I deep inhale. The policewomen see it and let me put on my black t-shirt again. The reason for the appointment in the court, they have not yet given, despite my repeated inquiries. They are very busy, and Ma’am Papillio now asks me if I would like to call my attorney with my cell phone to ask him to come to the Hall of Justice.
His phone is off and in his law office only the answering machine starts. I report on attorney’s tape what is happening right now, and explain to the policewomen that my attorney — like all attorneys! — is at training and will not be back until tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
The policewomen are surprised, because they have heard about the training of the attorneys, but this is not mandatory but voluntary and takes place several times.
Now it is me who shakes his head in amazement. Franco has acted as if further training was vital for De Baron’s survival and could not be postponed under any circumstances. I’m annoyed. Now valuable time has passed unused and this attorney is not at my side in my difficult hours. The guy is becoming more and more strange. The main thing is to pocket the money first! I distract myself with optimism, otherwise I will only get really angry. Maybe there’s the release paper right away? But immediately I have doubts. Why are my attorney, the yellow t-shirt and shaving necessary? A strange feeling creeps up on me and I doubt it again today. Did Ma’am Papillio let me take a shower this morning because of the visit to the Hall of Justice and should I shave, therefore? For a release paper? I ask again, as Ma’am Papillio is standing in front of me to handcuff me: “Ma’am, what is the reason for the court date?”
“I only received the information to take you to the Hall of Justice. You will find out everything else in a moment.”
“Are these silly handcuffs really necessary?”
Mik did not witness the drama with the much too small yellow shirt, as he immediately turned left to the exit in front of Sarang’s office to visit the children in the BSWD. I turned right towards Ma’am Papillio’s office. How I would have liked to march out of the building with Mik. I looked after him wistfully.
We are just entering the Hall of Justice, whose rectangular courtyard is without a roof and which is decorated with a few unkempt plants.
Today we are not sitting in this gloomy hallway, but in the said courtyard, just behind the main entrance and in front of an office door that leads to an open-plan office. Employees and visitors are constantly rushing in and out. Without exception, everyone stops briefly when she or he sees me and gawks shamelessly, as if I had a bloody skin disease on my face. I am again in this situation that no one wants to be in.
What will happen?
I feel my stomach in an unpleasant way, I am hot and cold at the same time, sweat a lot, my head roars and I feel miserable.
Damn, what awaits me behind this door? Win or lose?
If only the Filipinos didn’t gloat so impertinently! I am the only foreigner here. Freshly shaved, but the only long-nose in handcuffs, which is guarded by two policewomen and two heavily armed officers. All in all, these are not good omens for the upcoming date. Damn, where did I get in? This is a horror movie! The tension is once again palpable. Like in the hotel, just before I was arrested. There are those negative vibrations again. When I look at Ma’am Papillio’s face, I immediately realize that she knows more than she says. Asian smile or not, her pretty but today very worried face And all Filipinos, employees here as well as visitors to the Hall of Justice seem to know what is going on here. The whole world seems to know what is happening to me.
Only one stupid guy doesn’t know — and that’s me!
13.02. Criminal complaint
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