Original subtitles

La Reforma Prison,

home to over 3,000

of the most dangerous criminals in Costa Rica.

Plagued by squalid conditions and overcrowding...

it's overrun with drugs...

I get you anything you want.

Really.

And deadly violence,

making this one of Latin America's most feared maximum security prisons.

My name is Raphael Rowe.

I'm spending a week locked up inside this Costa Rican prison,

but it's not my first time behind bars.

I served 12 years for a murder I didn't commit.

Now, I'm traveling the globe to discover what life is really like

inside some of the world's toughest prisons.

Costa Rica: one of the world's top tourist destinations.

But there's a dark side to this Central American paradise.

In the last five years, a wave of violent crime

has filled the prisons to bursting point.

Before I do time in the notorious La Reforma Penitentiary,

I'm joining a police stop and search mission

in the capital, San José,

to find out what's fueling this surge in bloodshed.

So, police are carrying out quite a serious operation here.

The international drugs cartels

are invading our Costa Rica, our borders.

So, their arrival is increasing the use of drugs,

and also crime, in our country.

Costa Rica has become

an important trafficking route for cocaine,

heading north to Mexico and the United States.

The flood of drugs has fueled a spike in gang violence,

and Costa Rica's murder rate has spiraled out of control.

The increased crime rates here in Costa Rica means

more people are being sent to prison.

And the prisons have a problem with overcrowding.

And the prisons themselves, I'm told, are appalling.

The conditions are appalling, and they're violent places.

Costa Rica's most dangerous criminals

are held at the country's largest maximum security prison, La Reforma.

And that's where I'm heading now, to spend a week as an inmate

and find out for myself just how bad it really is.

Shoes off.

The first step to becoming an inmate is a security check.

Turn around. Open your mouth.

You can put them on.

Do you often find things?

Do prisoners often have things, at this moment, in your search?

Yes, that's why we do this, because we often find sharp objects,

razor blades, or other items that can physically harm you.

It's hardly the most invasive search I've ever had,

so I can imagine a quantity of contraband does get in.

I'm also warned about lethal weapons handmade by inmates.

Cigarette lighters with pieces of metal coming out the end.

I mean, you can just imagine.

And then you've got this kind of thing that somebody can hold,

just a sharpened piece of steel.

I've seen every weapon you can possibly imagine

made by a prisoner.

I've seen 'em be used. I know how dangerous these things can be.

So, you can't, for one minute, let your guard down,

whether you are a prisoner, a prison guard, or a visitor,

because you don't know who might be carrying one of these weapons.

After photographs and fingerprints, I'll be taken to quarantine,

where the authorities risk assess prisoners

and isolate those with violent criminal rivalries.

I'm not looking forward to it, if I'm honest,

because I don't know who I'm gonna meet in there.

And it's always the kind of edgier place of a prison at the very start.

This is the cell?

How are you doing? My name is Raphael. Nice to meet you. Raphael.

So, how long are you expecting to be held in here?

It depends. If they haven't allocated you here in the prison,

you might be here 15 days, 22 days until you get assigned a place.

This is my first taste of Costa Rica's La Reforma Prison.

And just coming through this area here,

it already makes me feel like I'm being caged like an animal.

It stinks here. Without light, without anything.

Here, it's tougher. It's tough.

Here, you have to survive alone.

You have to survive,

and if you don't have family here, you won't survive.

Okay, well, let me ask you. What are you in here for?

Me? Homicide, aggravated robbery, selling drugs.

I'm in jail for homicide and kidnapping. I got 21 years.

And what about you, Mr. Lollipop?

I'm here for murder with 18 years.

What advice would you give to me?

The advice I can give you is to get along with people.

To not have any problems, and make friends,

and learn that what you see, you didn't see,

and not to touch what is around.

Do you get it? To respect every inmate equally

and not to look down on anyone.

This is the advice I can give you to survive for longer.

Otherwise, they kill you. Do you understand?

You only have to look at these guys and their conditions.

I mean, this is doing some serious time. There's no electricity in here.

The walls are burnt. Every corner of this cell is burnt,

probably where they are trying to get light.

And they've given me a word of warning.

You see no evil, you speak no evil, and you hear no evil.

And if you abide by that code, you'll survive.

This sprawling penitentiary has different units

housing low-, medium- or high-risk prisoners.

After quarantine, I'm assigned to the medium security B-block.

En route, I get a sense of just how volatile this prison can be.

The officers left and they grabbed hold of their batons.

So, obviously, they're trying to control something.

And that's a stark reminder that I'm in a very dangerous place,

and something could happen at any second.

What happened? What were you going to deal with?

It was a fist fight, but there was no use of sharp weapons.

For me?

As I'm handed a mattress, I'm nervous about what lies ahead.

My heart's racing as I'm marched into the belly of the beast.

Gringo.

Gringo.

Gringo.

This way?

Barco!

Barco!

Barco!

The inmates shout "barco" which means "boat,"

prison slang for a new arrival.

I'm thinking, "God, if I was on my own coming to an environment like this,

how do I survive?"

This welcome is designed to intimidate new inmates.

- Barco! Barco!

Beyond this fence, I'll be at the mercy

of the prison boss who controls this unit.

It's critical I don't make myself vulnerable by showing any fear.

He is the one who rules here.

My name is Raphael.

Raphael? Pleased to meet you. Where are you from?

I come from London.

Luis controls where I'll sleep: on a bunk or on the floor.

Most of us here are friends.

We all come from different countries. Nicaragua...

There are people from Panama, Colombia.

There are murderers, rapists. You'll find all kinds here, thieves...

Thieves, burglars, everything. Psychos...

You got to choose your path. If you get in trouble...

If you want trouble, you'll find trouble.

It's a clear warning not to challenge Luis' authority.

On the outside, I'm told, he was a feared gang leader.

Inside, he clearly commands the respect of these dangerous inmates.

He orders his lieutenant, Michael, to show me around.

First up, I'm given a bed, which I'm told I have to pay for.

- This is going to be your bed. - Okay.

Here.

Down here, this was going to be yours.

So, I'm getting a sense that this is a privilege

for me to be up here, rather than under there.

So, how many people sleep in this dormitory?

How many guys in here alone?

Twenty-eight only here.

- Twenty-eight. - Twenty-eight.

Okay.

Uh, no air conditioning?

Nothing.

No fans?

Nothing.

You've got to be tough. We live like that here.

We are from the ghetto. Strong, brave, suffering.

So, what's your position here, then?

Because everybody seems to be paying attention

to the fact I'm here talking to you.

Here, my job is the telephone guy.

Many people are waiting in line to make calls.

So, I can buy that space in the line?

That's what I do? I buy that space to make a phone call?

Yes, you are being privileged.

Next stop on my tour: the cell's en suite bathroom.

Oh, my fucking God.

Oh, your shower. That's the shower.

You pour water. You bathe. You dry.

Here, you shit.

All right, okay.

And here's water to put into it. There's no tank to flush.

With only an hour left before lockdown at 5:00 p.m.,

Michael and I grab some fresh air.

What would my routine be tomorrow morning?

First, if you have cash, you can pay someone

to pick up your breakfast and lunch. It's a perk.

But if you don't have money, you have to wake up at 7:00 in the morning

to get in line for your own coffee, bread.

Here, you line up for many things.

Looks like... a lot of guys here are not doing very much at the moment.

Just hanging around, killing time.

Is there a lot of fights?

Anyone who wants problems.

Even for a bread roll, a cigarette butt, or because you did not lend him a pen...

because you did not tell them the time.

They will fight for everything.

It's stressful.

With over 100 dangerous inmates

confined to this small patio and four cramped dorms,

it's no wonder life here often descends into violence.

Michael is eight years into a 35-year sentence for two murders.

How do you survive in here, man? I mean, this place is...

This place is crazy. I mean, there's... overcrowding.

It's hot. It's... I mean...

You get used to the routine.

Your mind adapts to it.

If you don't adapt, you go crazy, and they send you to maximum security.

It's the end of my first day in La Reforma.

And honestly, this is one of the most intimidating prisons I've ever been in.

The threat of violence hangs in the air here.

If I'm gonna get through this, I'll need to keep my wits about me.

Every day you wake up, you've got to protect your mind.

You've got to protect your physical body

from confrontation, from intimidation, from manipulation.

And it worries me, that every day I'm here,

I'm going to witness something I don't want to witness.

It's the start of my second day in La Reforma.

And behind bars on B-block,

it's the inmates who are firmly in control.

To survive this hellhole,

I need to earn the respect of my cellmates,

and that means mucking in.

Boss Luis hands out tasks around the dormitory.

And I'm told he has a special job for new inmates.

How's it going, dude?

What does he want? Does this man want to work?

It's your call. I brought him, so he can get to the front of the line.

What you have to do is simple.

You want me to clean this out, and put it in this bucket?

- Yes. - Okay.

As the newest arrival, all eyes are watching to see how I react.

So, do I get paid for doing this job?

Yes, yes.

What's my pay?

In the food line, you'll have the benefit to get your food

without having to make the full line.

There are a lot of us. Lots of people line up, so you go ahead.

That's the benefit of the work.

But it smells bad. Fucking hell.

Where does this come from, this rubbish?

From the rooms.

I've got a fucking cockroach in my hand and its baby,

and these guys think it's quite amusing.

I mean, it takes... a force beyond nature to kill cockroaches.

It stinks. It's a horrible thing to do.

But wouldn't you do it willingly

if it would get you one notch up the ladder

as a new prisoner in this volatile and dangerous place?

So, I'm mixing it up already to show that I'm willing

and that earns me a benefit, but, more importantly, friends.

Luis has ordered one of my cellmates to line up and bring me food

as payment for doing this disgusting job.

It better be worth it.

That's what I was just getting out of there, right?

That's my food?

Suddenly, I'm not so hungry.

Is that what I've done that for? That shit?

I might as well have just eaten that, right?

The vast majority of inmates will spend all day, every day,

in and around this small courtyard.

With limited facilities, it's up to them how they occupy their time.

My cellmate, Michael, has invited me to join him in the gym,

and it looks like I'm in for another test.

There's no state-provided gymnasium equipment here.

So, these guys have ingeniously invented their own weights room.

- Michael. How you doing? - Hey, Raphael.

- Good morning. I'm fine. - You good?

Working out in the gym is what kept me sane

during my 12 years in prison.

Okay, this one.

Michael puts me through my paces.

The big one! The big one!

I don't know if I'll come out of here alive.

I mean, they have no mercy.

Come on! Harder!

Harder! Harder!

- Done. - Done, done.

Oh, man. I passed?

- Yes. - Okay.

So, why do you come in here and build your muscles?

To keep yourself strong? To give you status?

To let off steam.

To release all the anger, all the bad thoughts you have inside.

You flush them all out with the exercise. It all goes away.

You don't need to be big and powerful

to be dangerous and ruthless.

But this might give one or two of you an advantage.

There's a lurking brutality and sense of hopelessness

that hangs over life here.

I want to find out more about Michael,

who still has more than 25 years to serve behind bars.

When did you first come to prison, and what was that for?

When I was 13.

For murder.

They were from a gang.

I killed one. Then, another kills another, and another, another...

And that's how it goes.

The family... Hey, they killed a cousin of mine, and I killed their uncle.

They shot me.

How many times have you been shot?

Eight.

Hold on a minute. You've still got a bullet in your calf?

- Two. - Two bullets?

Bullet, bullet.

What are they, souvenirs?

What was your life like before you got involved in gangs?

Or has it always been like that for you?

My stepfather smoked crack,

and he beat the living shit out of me. Excuse me.

He hit me every day with a leather belt.

He was taking drugs, and beat me hard.

Every day. I did not have a childhood.

That vicious circle of gangs, drugs, murder, and prison,

how can you escape that if that's all you've ever known?

You may try to get out of it, but there is a lot around.

There is so much evil in the world.

Has prison changed you?

It turns some people into monsters on the inside,

even the ones that haven't done anything.

There are others that it really changes.

There was something he said to me that was really striking,

and it was that this is a place

where people who come in here, who are not real criminals,

go out of here serious criminals.

No rehabilitation, no preparation for resocialization.

Just a school of crime.

It's a new day in La Reforma.

Whilst most inmates spend their time

confined in the claustrophobic living units,

a few are lucky enough to have a real job.

And today, I'm relieved to escape the cell courtyard

and help out in B-block's kitchen.

Here, 30 inmates help prepare three meals a day for over 600 prisoners.

- You're Glen, right? - Yeah.

How are you doing, Glen? I'm Raphael.

- Nice to meet you. - Nice to meet you.

I'm helping former US Marine Glen Davis

deliver a papaya snack to each of the six separate living units.

- Come. - All right. Okay.

They wait for the big pieces first, right?

50-year-old Glen has spent most of the last 32 years in prison.

At the time, his crime shocked Costa Rica.

It was a kidnap. It was Americans.

- You kidnapped Americans? - Yes.

They were kidnapped. I was gonna let them go, and...

And he started talking, and...

One shit leads to the other, and I killed him.

You killed one of the Americans?

I killed both of them.

- You killed both of them? - Yes.

Psychiatrists have said, from when I was a kid, I am a sociopath.

Because Glen's job allows him to move between units,

there's no shortage of inmates asking for favors.

Every day, when I go to this place, you hear, "Glen, Goofy, pass this joint."

I have to pass the joint from there to there.

You mean a puff joint?

- A joint, marijuana. - Yeah.

Is it a privilege or is it a risk? Because if the guards...

It's both.

- It's like a blade with two edges. - Yes, two edges.

Because if I say no to my people...

I live here. I am not gonna be popular.

I do whatever they want.

If they give me a dead person, chopped, cut real nice in a bag,

I'll carry it and throw it away for them.

Doesn't your little errands that you do for some of these guys pay?

They pay drugs, and I smoke pot.

Are drugs quite prevalent in here?

I get you anything you want.

Really. Whatever you want.

You said to me that you do a lot to survive.

- What are your limits? - Okay.

What wouldn't you do?

If you ask me to pass you on a blade, a knife, I will not,

'cause today, you and I are friends. Tomorrow, I don't know.

And that knife that I brought you could be good for me.

These guys, they just ooze this violence,

and I've seen that look in many men's eyes in prison, myself.

He said everything about this place is kill or be killed,

survive or be crushed.

The key to doing time in this place seems to be:

keep your head down, do what's asked of you,

and don't stand out from the crowd.

But there's a small group of prisoners

who are potentially more vulnerable than others.

And I'm keen to find out

how they survive in this hostile, macho environment.

- Hi. - Hi.

- Your name is? - Jason.

- Jason. - Samantha.

- Samantha? - Samantha.

- Jason Samantha or Samantha? - Samantha.

- And yours? - Elian.

Elian. Nice to meet you. Raphael.

I understand that you guys are in a relationship, right?

Yes, we are a couple. We've been together for ten months.

We are together in the prison.

The truth is, it's an experience you don't see often,

because we suffer from discrimination, contempt,

since people do not like it.

They look down on people like us.

Elian is doing time for robbery,

and Samantha is serving 11 years for smuggling drugs into prison.

Have you experienced threats, or people attacked you,

or tried to attack you because you're Samantha?

A prisoner came from down over there with a big piece of steel.

He wanted to kill me because he hates gays.

So, I looked at him and told him, "Come on, let's fight."

I said, "I'm not afraid of anybody."

So, the guy shut up and left me alone, but he wanted to kill me.

If I'd not said anything, he would have killed me.

How do you protect each other from the threats of violence

from those who don't like that you are in a relationship?

Well, I mostly take care of her.

Not so much her of me, because I always need to protect her

from people that want to hurt her.

Wouldn't it just be easier to hide your relationship,

and sort of have a secret relationship,

rather than face the threat of violence from these guys every day?

I am like this, and why should I hide it?

I like it.

And if it makes someone else uncomfortable,

then it's not my problem.

How do you get intimate with each other, with so many eyes around all the time?

We sleep together in the same room, in the same bed.

The person above us, sleeping above us, sometimes gets bothered by it.

Sure, he doesn't like it,

but what can we do if we are deprived of liberty?

The couple are keen to show me where they sleep.

The love palace. Let's see this space.

They even have a little cat.

So, this single space for the two of you?

Yes, for us two together. He sleeps there, and I sleep here.

- So, you fasten it here firmly. - Right.

That gives you your level of privacy.

That's how it's more private.

And then this one...

I admire your bravery in the face of the hostility

you face from other prisoners.

It's a struggle that we overcome every day like this.

But it doesn't matter. We're strong.

What's the matter, Elian?

He is very sentimental. Yes, he cries a lot.

So, there you go. The thing is you cry because you're sentimental.

And, well, the important thing is to keep going,

and that God always gives you strength to see things differently.

Elian and Samantha met ten months ago

in one of the most violent, decrepit places I've ever been in.

They talk about being bullied.

They talk about people threatening them with dangerous weapons.

But despite that, they stand up for who they are.

They talk about being in love,

and their relationship seems to give 'em the strength to survive.

After experiencing life as an inmate,

today, I'm joining guard Victor and his team

to find out how they manage this violent prison population.

What do you look for when you carry out cell searches?

What we are looking for is drugs, sharp weapons,

cell phones, SIM cards to be used with the phones.

Also, the so-called chicha,

a home brew that they drink.

The officers carry out cell searches on a daily basis,

often acting on tip-offs from other prisoners.

But inmates never make it easy for the guards.

What is all the fuss about?

Turn around.

If you want you can hit me, but I'm a senior citizen.

I am here. I am here.

But calm down. We are only asking you to turn around to make an inspection.

As simple as that.

You gonna bum me against the wall?

Shall I lower my pants?

This time, the search revealed no contraband.

But it's a constant battle for the guards to control these dangerous prisoners.

Inmates caught being violent or with deadly weapons

are moved to the most secure section of the prison.

I'm now being taken into La Reforma's maximum security prison within a prison.

It holds some of Costa Rica's most ruthless organized criminals.

They're so dangerous, the guards are cautious

about taking me into this complex.

The man responsible for managing

La Reforma's most volatile and violent inmates

is head guard Juan Luis.

Good morning. Nice to meet you.

Can I have a look around? Can you show me around?

Yes, sure. No problem about that,

only that you must also wear the vest for your own protection.

I've never been in a prison

where it's been necessary, in the cellblock,

to put on something like a stab vest.

I mean, that is an indication of how dangerous this place is,

and the sorts of criminals that these guys are dealing with.

Each cell in this section holds two to four prisoners

and has a small outdoor area.

I've never seen anything like this before.

We are walking along this kind of caged landing

where the guards can see down into the cells,

where the prisoners are being kept.

It feels a bit like being at the zoo.

What's it like working here for you and for your fellow officers?

It's very stressful.

It's stressful because we are here locked in living with them.

You have to keep calm,

because we have situations where we have to be patient with them.

They insult us. Sometimes, they throw shit at us.

Despite the intense security in this block,

in 2011, prisoners attempted a mass breakout.

They took control of the situation by taking hostages,

with firearms and sharp weapons.

One of our guards lost his life in the incident.

Are any of the prisoners involved in that escape still here?

And would it be possible for me to meet that prisoner?

In a cell, it's not convenient.

We would have to take him to a location

where you can speak to him without having a great deal of danger.

As we're talking, trouble kicks off in the cells below.

From down there, it looks like this guy is...

Is that normal, that he's burning a newspaper?

They make fire to get attention,

so that the guards go in.

The guard did paint a very grim picture of their existence here.

He said every day they come into this job,

it's stressful.

They're constantly abused and spat at by the prisoners.

The guards have agreed to let me talk to one of the inmates

who was involved in the attempted escape.

- Hello. - Hello.

How are you doing?

How you doing? All good?

- Nice to meet you. - Yes.

My name is Raphael.

- Raphael. Juan Carlos. - Juan Carlos.

How did you end up in maximum security?

How did you end up in here?

Lots of fighting.

Life inside here is tough.

One must pass time, so time goes by faster.

What was you sent to prison for in the first place?

Well, for murder...

and robbery.

- And how long is your sentence? - Fifty years.

Fifty? And how long have you served?

Twenty years.

I hear that you were involved in an attempted escape.

This place, Juan Carlos, is so secure.

How did you get out of here, in the first place?

Two, three people from the system helped.

Corrupt guards smuggled in guns, and inmates took prison officers hostage,

using them as a human shield.

How far did you get?

Where the entrance is, over there...

around 300, 400 meters there outside.

A shoot-out between the inmates and the police

left a guard and two prisoners dead.

Did you believe that you could actually get out of here and get away?

We thought we could...

with the hostages and everything, but it was tough.

It was tough. It was a stupid thing to do.

He says he's trying to become a different person

because he's had enough.

But it wasn't that long ago,

he was deemed to be so dangerous, so violent,

that he has been locked up in this cage, in this animal pen.

This zoo, if you like.

The attempted breakout in 2011 was a tipping point

that led to a reevaluation of Costa Rica's prison system.

The conditions in maximum security are tough.

Unbelievably, I'm told it used to be worse.

Until last year,

the prison's solitary confinement cells were notorious hellholes.

I'm meeting up with Alex, a fellow prisoner from B-block,

who spent three years locked up here.

In part, it was violent because we were very violent.

We were asking for it,

and that was the only way the police could have control.

No guard liked working here.

Alex has served 40 sentences,

the first for attempted murder, at the age of nine.

That was my cell. The bed was here.

Area F, nicknamed the Tombs,

was forced to close because of inhumane conditions.

Here, shocking brutality was committed by both inmates and guards.

What is the worst thing that happened to you in Las Tumbas?

There was a lot of hostility.

I have seen many inmates with cuts, any number of them stabbed.

There have also been many killed, shot in that patio.

You had mentioned also that the brutality

led to people like yourself cutting yourself.

I was cutting myself at least three times a week.

And I remember that... in terms of food.

I couldn't... I did not have strength in my arms. I was so weak.

As best as I could, I would put it on the floor and eat like a dog.

What's the worst that you did to yourself?

I also took a shaving knife.

I would hold myself here like this, cut myself, and it would open up.

The same here.

I had a hole in which I was putting a toothbrush.

What was it that made you do such horrible things to yourself?

Well, the cell was overwhelming me...

Being locked up, the atmosphere we lived in...

Not only did I consider guards my enemy,

but also inmates next to me and the ones next to them.

It was one of the most harmful coexistences here

that I have ever experienced.

So, that made me believe that I was not worth anything.

So, I'm going to do this to myself to go to the hospital, get out for a bit.

The pain, and scars, and damage he inflicted on himself is frightening.

I spent 12 years in a single cell, so I know how tough it is

to keep yourself sane banged up, behind the door, on your own.

He is tormented by the things he witnessed

and the things he personally experienced.

It's just horrible. These places mess up your mind.

And there is no question, in my mind, that Alexander and men like him

have been messed up by this confinement.

The closure of Las Tumbas was the start of an overhaul

of the way Costa Rica treats its prisoners.

Despite public opposition,

they opened a controversial and radically different new facility.

It's my last day inside La Reforma prison complex,

and I have been transferred here to this new, modern part of the prison,

and it's where they aim to rehabilitate offenders.

Compared to the squalor I experienced on B-block,

I'm amazed at what I'm seeing.

This is very different from the other part of the prison.

This is a place of low security.

So, what sort of prisoners do you have in this part of the prison?

It varies.

They need to meet the requirements of the program.

An inmate has been assigned to help me acclimatize

to my new surroundings.

My name is Jani. Pleasure to meet you. What is your name?

- Raphael. - Nice to meet you, Raphael.

So, I've just come from over there to here.

- Was you over there? - Yeah.

I've been there a lot.

You're pretty much making a transition from hell to Disneyland.

You call this Disneyland?

Yeah, I don't know if I should call it Disneyland,

but we have no stabbings here. We have no drugs here.

- We have no illicit businesses, right? - Right, okay.

Everything is calm. You want a tour?

- Yeah, give me a tour. - All right, let me take you on a tour.

American expat Jani is doing time for robbing drug dealers.

Do you have the freedom to walk where you want, when you want?

We can go out, and we can walk around every day, all day.

We can pretty much do whatever we want.

We get locked down at 8:00 at night. Like I said, this place is Disneyland.

Built to house over 700 inmates, this brand new section of the prison

has an education unit, workshops, a multipurpose gym,

a soccer field, a laundry, and kitchens.

Despite all these facilities, I am told this unit is not yet full.

So, all that overcrowding in hell, and the guys don't want to come here?

Yeah, they don't want to come here.

There's a lot of things here that you can't do, that you can do there.

People make money in prison.

The typical Costa Rican, you send him to prison,

and he sees that as an opportunity to make money.

A nobody outside, he gets drugs for cheap, and he puts him in prison,

and he's got a whole bunch of addicts around him

that are his best friends. And now he's somebody.

Prisoners here have to sign a contract, promising to behave.

Have you known of guys being evicted from here?

Yes, he's actually a friend of mine.

He had somebody send him drugs.

There's lots of snitches here, too.

So, security finds out about it.

They go and pick him up. The next day, he's gone.

He gets sent back to hell, right?

This is my bedroom.

Eight of you sleep in here?

Yeah, eight of us sleep here.

Everybody has a bed, a box, and a footlocker.

In stark contrast to the rest of La Reforma,

here inmates are offered the opportunity to turn their lives around.

Like a drug addict, right?

You can send him to rehab 1,000 times, right?

You could send him to prison 1,000 times.

The only way that you change is doing it yourself, all right?

But turning your back on fellow criminals

can have dangerous consequences.

In the kitchen, I'm joining Marco Antonio,

an inmate brave enough to break from his life of crime.

What is it that you want me to do? What can I... How can I help?

We need to peel those sweet potatoes

because we are making them mashed.

So, you must cut off both ends and peel them.

What are you in prison for?

Twenty-three years for murder using an armablanca... with a knife.

Did what?

I'm safe though, right? You're not in the murdering mood, right?

- No problem. - Okay.

Now, we've established that.

The prison must obviously trust you now

to allow you to still openly hold a knife like this.

Yes, we've won their trust. Thanks to God.

It's not like they just give it to you.

In here, I was given the opportunity to study. I've got many diplomas.

It's so calm here.

It seems the different environment creates different behavior.

What did Marco Antonio have to do inside to get accepted in this program?

I wanted it. I wanted... I was tired of suffering,

tired of seeing my mother cry and cry every time she came to visit.

If you hadn't been transferred here a year ago,

where would Marco Antonio be now?

Possibly, I would have another conviction...

or even be dead.

It would have been bad. It would have been bad.

It would have been bad. That's the truth.

Marco Antonio, he said when this place came onto his radar,

he knew it was an opportunity for him to embrace...

a change. And he said himself, if he didn't change

and he were still in that environment, he might be dead.

In stark contrast to where I've spent the last few days,

it seems that prisoners here have hope.

To find out why it's so radically different

from the old part of La Reforma,

I am meeting up with Costa Rica's Justice Minister, Marco Feoli.

I mean, I would describe La Reforma as a hellhole on Earth.

It's overcrowded. It's menacing. It's threatening.

It's a scary place for visitors, for prisoners,

and the guards that work there.

The concept of punishment is embedded in our DNA.

Historically, this has led to the gradual transformation of prisons...

into places that are just holding pens,

and the consequence of this has been overcrowded jails.

It's a mistake, because the results are plain to see.

It's very progressive. Why did you build this place?

I would like to think that, little by little,

we will transform not just the concept of prison itself,

but also the idea that people outside can have of what a prison can be.

You might not believe this, but this prison also has many critics,

because there are those that think that the people need to suffer,

and it has to be a kind of vengeance.

This is absurd, because if I'm treated like I was a beast,

then there is no way that I can come out of prison a better person.

He believes in what he's doing.

He thinks prison should be somewhere

where prisoners and criminals are treated humanely and with dignity.

And by doing that, you can bring about a change in that individual.

It remains to be seen how long this radical approach will last.

Public opinion, he said, are not on his side.

People here, in Costa Rica,

believe that criminals should be locked up,

and the key thrown away.

He just hopes that whoever replaces him will continue the progress

that he believes that this country's prison system needs.

It's the end of my week in Costa Rica's La Reforma Prison.

From my time with Michael, in the squalid and overcrowded cells of B-block,

to the new wing, where even the most violent inmates are learning to reform.

I've seen the best and the worst of what prison can be.

It's extraordinary how this prison is trying to change,

but its reforms are under serious threat.

Like anywhere in the world,

spending money on rehabilitating convicted criminals doesn't win you votes.

And if the opposition here continues to grow against the reforms,

then this radical social experiment will come to an abrupt and early end.