My name is Myriam Arthur and In the mid 80's in my hometown of Cochabamba, Bolivia, I was an affluent, well-respected wife, mother and business woman. My husband, a Canadian engineer and I had a lovely home, wonderful high-powered friends and 2 beautiful sons. Aside from recent economical and political difficulties facing Bolivia, we were very happy, knowing we could ride out the storm of the country's uncertainties
It was at this time my eldest son, John Paul, returned home from USC, and gave me the devastating news he feared he had been infected with AIDS. So little was known about this disease at that time, and what ever information I could obtain only proved to heightened my fears that I would lose my beloved child. My son made me promise to keep this from his father. I did.
To find out more about the disease, I took my son to a family friend who had a local medical practice. He was unable to do anything for him, but gave us some hope - In France they were very close to a cure. He wrote the name of a doctor in Spain who would be able to refer JP to a clinic in Paris. Although we led lives of the well-to-do, our family's economy was hurting as much as everyone else's. I did not have the funds to pay for such a costly trip.
But this was Bolivia; I had connections and a plan. I transported 300 grams of cocaine from Bolivia to Brazil to gain experience and the funds to subsequently get my son and myself to France. December 24th 1985 we boarded the plane and I carried 700 grams that I would sell in Spain, collect the referral from the doctor and head to Paris. Our itinerary to Canes - Nice involved crossing various International airports and the cocaine passed undetected; JP had no idea I was trafficking. In Nice I rented a car and asked my son to drive me to Spain, the end of my mission was near, but at the French/Spanish border, the French authorities tipped off in advance, stopped our car and my son and I were both arrested.
Because of a total mishandling of our case and interpretation mistakes, my son and I were both convicted and sentenced to 10 years in prison. It took almost 3 years imprisoned in frightening surroundings such as Des Baumettes in Marseille and all the family's assets to successfully obtain a transfer to Canada, to serve the rest of our sentences closer to home.
My son John Paul Arthur, Died of AIDS April 11 1994. His name has never been cleared.
hello my name is Natalie Moreno Sanchez and im a transgender woman from male to female , I end it upin Tijuana Mexico after my dad turned his back on me due to my gender and got me a job as a topless dancer at a club named Bambys, I so did not know or was never informed that it was a crime to impersonate a female! so wrong.....One day after getting off from work in company of a very known transvestite a car full of men were folloing us and when she cought them she told me to run that they were Federales before i knew they had me by the hair and hit me in myb stomach with the tail of a riffle and was putted inside the car against my will and taken to a police station only to pick up more officers than one by one raped me and tortured meand then i was sold to a Mexican Cartel a a sex slave , inside that brothel i was punish beaten and drugged i had to sleep with about 30 men a day, when i found out i was gonna be resold to a Thylandess Cartel to be a lady boy i beggaqn to planned my scaped. Thanked god i was able to brake down and be reunited with my family back in the states but not with out been branded by these people with a tatto just like a caw. I have proof of these events taking pklace by both authorities the Mexican as well as the American and have a report by an agency that helped me through out this crises CASC the work with victims of Human Trafficking and slavery.
In the 70's i smuggled hashish from turkey in the wheel of a broken motorcycle pushed it over the border into greece and was busted and served 22 months. While in a prison in athens i was involved in an attempted escape digging a tunnel then I was transfered to a mental criminal prison to bolster my defense then to a work farm where each day of work was an extra day off the sentence. That's it in a nutshell