Schapelle Corby, Innocent Australian in Indonesia

In late May 2005 I was standing in a bank line idly watching a cable news station I don't get at home. The featured story was a strange criminal case in Indonesia and showed a young lady crying in court. I was moved in a way I cannot explain or entirely recall although I did not catch her name, only her nationality. I went home and googled on "Australian drug charge Indonesia" which brought up the name Schapelle Corby. A bit of slinking and scurrying around the internet over the next week or two brought me up to date on the story, which began in October 2004. Schapelle Leigh Corby is an attractive and articulate but ( it then seemed) perfectly ordinary 27 year old taking a break from caring for her termially ill father with a quick holiday in Bali, a common beach resort destination for Australians. She traveled with her brother James and two friends, planning to celebrate her sister Mercedes' ( who had married a Balinese man and often spent time there with their children) 30th birthday. Schapelle flew from Brisbane to Denpasar with a stopover in Sydney, checking her baggage through all the way. She had a suitcase and a "boogie board" ( small surfboard) bag, all unlocked but clearly labelled with her name. At customs she was told to check the boogie board bag through at the oversize counter, noticing on the way that the zippers were in a different position than she had left them and the carrying strap had been cut. Her brother helped carry it to the counter where they asked if it was his. "No, it's mine," said Schapelle and lifted it up fopr inspection, noticing far too late that it was heavier than it should have been. The bag contained 4.2 kg of marijuana.

The world's stupidest smuggling gang poses bravely for an airport photo just before going over the top. Do all people risking the death penalty look this happy?

The marijuana was in a transparent plastic "space bag" which was inside a second identical space bag, both unconcealed at the top of the boogie board bag which contained nothing else but a pair of flippers. The inner bag had been cut allowing the smell to escape. Customs officials would later deny cutting it and the cut has never been satisfactorily explained. There was no need for officials either to cut the ( already transparent) bag or to deny doing so if they thought it necessary, but surely no real drug courier would cut his own bag increasing his chance of being caught! Nor would any accused smuggler whether guilty or not, admit that the drugs were his - as officials would claim that Schapelle admitted. What she said, of course was that the boogie board bag was hers. Officials did not detain her brother for long, did not search her other traveling companions, and DID NOT SEARCH HER SUITCASE. There is no previous cse on record of anyone smuggling marijuana FROM Australia TO Indonesia, that is like taking cocaine to Colombia or smuggling heroin into Afghanistan. Marijuana grows wild in Indonesia and has a street value in Bali far less than it can be bought for in Australia. There is a rumor ( based on a single news article with no identified sources) that a high grade of marijuana called "Aussie Gold" is smuggled by Australian tourists to sell to other Australian tourists on Bali's beaches ( to avoid local dealers who may be undercover cops) but the failure of those who believe this to show even ONE such case ( names, dates, trial results ) identifies this as an utrban myth. Indonesia's drug penalties ( including death) are well known and the risks of such an operation would be insane - if it is unsafe to buy drugs from possible undercover cops, how is it safe to sell drugs in competition with them? An "Aussie Gold" dealer (if there were any such thing) would be arrested within the hour. Even if someone were crazy enough to try it he would hardly walk through customs whistling with the drugs unconcealed ( having cleverly cut the bag beforehand to give customs agents an extra chance). The only kind of drug courier I can think of who might try this is one who was using his own product at the time ( Schapelle's blood and urine tests were clear). Other obvious tests common to all modern law enforcement were not done - there was no fingerprinting of either bag ( officials claimed too many police had handled them) and no DNA-testing for the origin of the marijuana, although Schapelle requested both tests repeatedly. Officials also refused to weigh the luggage and compare it with the original claim ticket from Australia. Closed circuit TV footage from all three airports was mysteriously unavailable, with varying explanations given.

Authorities refused to DNA-test the marijuana for point of origin or even to fingerprint the inner bag, claiming too many people had already handled it. Like the presiding judge, for instance.

Schapelle was taken to a holding cell at Polda while Mercedes frantically tried to find lawyers they could trust, arrange consular visits, and deal with the mounting press attention paid to the "celebrity prisoner." Schapelle goes into bitter detail about all this in her book My Story, based on interviews given to Kathryn Bonella from Kerobokan Prison to which she was eventually transferred. The book is very difficult to get through with its uncompromising description of Schapelle's unfolding nightmare - the numbing sense of unreality in the first court apearances, the horrible sanitary conditions in her holding cell, wondering whom to trust. Realizing after hiring her first legal team that one of the lawyers was not on the conulate's approved list and another was not a lawyer at all. Dealing with self-styled "representatives" who wanted a signed contract with a percentage of profits from Schapelle's presumed eventual book/movie deal. Endlessly traveling back and forth from prison to court in a crowded bus in handcuffs. Seeing demonstrtors carrying signs she could not read except for her own name and wondering if they were supporters. "No, Schapelle, they're here to support the DEATH SENTENCE" her translator gently explained. "The signs say KILL you ." Being often unable to sleep or keep food down until she was briefly hospitalized after collapsing in court. Then, finally, the appearance in May 2005 for the final verdict. There was a surreal Twilight Zone quality to that day, with Schapelle desperately trying to believe that presumption of innocence and requirements of evidence meant the same in Bali in Australia, that her innocence would be clear to the judges and she could go home that day. Unbeknownst to her the presiding judge ( Linton Sirait) openly boasted of never finding anyone innocent in over 500 previous drug trials. In her book Schapelle describes trying to learn enough Indonesian to understand the verdict but was unable to concentrate when it came to the point and looked to her translator for the meaning of "Tahun dua pulu tahun" - "Two. Two years?"..."No. Eka said, shaking her head. "Ten years?" "No, not ten years..." Then Eka said, "Twenty. Twenty years." I froze. A tremor ripped through my soul. I was in shock, motionless, stunned, disbelieving. My heart stopped. Time stopped. The room went hazy. Nothing felt real. I wasn't there..." But it is real, and nearly three years later Schapelle is still in Kerobokan Prison sharing a cell with between 6 and 12 other women, locked in for over 15 hours a day. Two appeals failed to exonerate her and she is presently awaiting the results of a "judicial review." Sentence remissions will probably reduce the sentence to 11 years or so , but few in Indonesian prisons survive that long. A Prisoner Transfer Agreement ( PTA) could allow her to serve part of her time in Australia, but no such agreement has been finalized between the two countries. To qualify for a PTA she might have to admit guilt, which she steadfastly refuses to do.

It was Schapelle sniffling through her last statement before the court that I saw standing in that bank line in 2005. The judges do not speak English and had no English translator for the time she was speaking. This story has moved me more than any news story I can think of except Sept. 11. If it can happen to Schapelle it can happen to anyone. While I have a sister her age I don't look at Schapelle and see her - I see myself, caught up in a nightmare through mo fault of my own and with no end in sight. Except that I could not remotely do what she has done - remain strong and continually proclaim her innocence, through the failed appeals and the endless waiting. In her place I would long since have told the authorities to shoot me and be done with it. I am in awe of her courage and her Christian testimony, repeatedly saying she still loves the people of Bali and bears no ill will toward them, praying for her lawyers and judges and fellow prisoners as if "love your enemies" were a serious command. And dictating her book in secret interviews from her cell, knowing that might anger authorities enough to get her transferred somewhere even worse. I could not do it, not in a million years.

Miss Schapelle is enormously comforted by the letters she gets, though she cannot answer them all. Care packages also get through and are gratefully received by her and the others she shares the contents with. The address for letters and care packages is

Miss Schapelle Corby

C/-LPM Kerobokan JI
Tangkuban Perahu Kerobokan

Denpasar 80117

Bali, INDONESIA

"But I refuse to let this place break my spirit. I use all my energy and willpower to pull myself back together. I forcibly replace negative thoughts with positive ones. Staying sane really does take a lot of energy, but I have to, out of respect for those who love me."

- Schapelle Corby, MY STORY

May God grant her peace until He brings her home.