This interview is from the spring 2026 issue of VICE magazine, THE NOT THE PHOTO ISSUE. Get four issues each year, sent straight to your door, by subscribing here.
“This tattoo artist did the worst tattoos I’ve ever seen, but also, honestly, in my head, I was like… I can probably make content out of this”
Our friend Arnold Putra was recently thrown in jail by Myanmar’s ruling military junta for fraternizing with local students. Thankfully, Arnold—who, when he’s not being incarcerated, makes hand bags out of human spines and alligator tongues—avoided being beaten to death for blasphemy due to his strategy of bribing a police officer to get his Buddha tattoo covered up. VICE called him for a chat.
VICE: So, first off, how did you get arrested in Myanmar?
Arnold Putra: When I go to Myanmar, I visit these student groups, basically to just kick it with them. On every base I bought everyone pints of beer. That’s it. At the time, I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong, but the students are often classified as terrorists by the junta. If they don’t go to the police station and report their own friends, they get a minimum of five years [in jail].
Last year, I went back to Myanmar for the Nat Pwe spirit festival, and on my last night this girl who I knew on Instagram texted me, like, “Let’s go out.” I had a 6AM flight, so I said no, thank you. I had no idea that she’s a general’s daughter. She showed up at my hotel and convinced me to go out for one drink. She took me to this tiny bar with three tables. Her drug dealer came and she was doing blow in the toilet. I was like, “OK, I’m gonna go home,” after an hour. And she was like, “Nooo, stay for ten or 15 minutes.” And literally, in these ten minutes, four plainclothes police officers came and were like, “Come with us. We want to ask you some questions.”
I ended up in military intel. I tried telling them I wasn’t guilty. I tried bribing them. But all they wanted was for me to confess to aiding the rebels. Then, two days later, they said, “OK, pack your bags, you’re going to the embassy.” I was like, “Thank you, guys, so much!” Literally high-fived everyone. But then I ended up in another cell where they tell me to get some rest because I’m at the start of a seven-year hard labor sentence.
At what point did you realize having a Buddha tattoo would be a problem?
Before I even got arrested, I was in Bagan. This guy selling paintings tells me: “You know you’re not allowed to have tattoos of Buddhas in this country—you will get in serious trouble.” I really didn’t want to buy his stuff, but he kept following me everywhere and threatened to tell the Minister of Information about my tattoo and get me deported. So I ended up buying a fucking painting off him. Then the people in my cell in jail, who had already been to the maximum-security prison, said that on the first day they check your entire body and make you explain each tattoo. I didn’t believe them, but it was actually the case.
Why can’t you show a Buddha tattoo in Myanmar?
Buddhism in Myanmar right now is super sensitive. The image of Buddha is so holy it’s not allowed on the human body, which my tattoo artist in L.A. obviously didn’t know when we pulled one off Google.
What happened next?
A staffer from the Indonesian embassy came to visit me and he’s like, “Don’t worry, there’s a tattoo artist working in the embassy, and he’s good. You just have to pay the police chief to turn the head office into a tattoo studio for one day. You’re gonna get killed in prison if you don’t change your tattoo.” This tattoo artist did the worst tattoos I’ve ever seen, but also, honestly, in my head, I was like… I can probably make content out of this.
“I was like, this guy doesn’t know what he’s doing. Then he tattooed me for four hours”
How did you make this happen if you were locked in a cell?
The police chief charged me three years’ salary to let us use his office. The tattoo artist came, surveyed my Buddha tattoo, and said, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make it so nice. I’m gonna make it into a beautiful girl with shades.” And I was like, “Can you just make it into the koala emoji?” He pulled up a photo on his phone, a realistic image of a koala, which I absolutely did not want, so I had to borrow someone’s iPhone with the koala emoji. And I was like, “Just do exactly this image, please.”
He scraped me with a shaver and rubbed me with this alcohol, which was more painful than any tattoo I’ve gotten. I was like, is this actually how it’s gonna feel, the whole cover-up? Because this guy doesn’t know what he’s doing. Then he tattooed me for four hours. The police chief was also there doing his own stuff. It was kind of hilarious. He tried to stop us a few times, like, “OK, it’s finished now, enough,” after one hour, because he had to go somewhere. We’d only done one eye.
How did you feel about the tattoo afterwards?
The cell had cockroaches swimming in the water that we showered in and rats falling on us as we slept. So I just prayed that it didn’t get infected, which, thankfully, it didn’t. The guys who saw my tattoo afterwards in the cell were like, “Oh, wow.” And they’re kind of using it as blackmail. Like, what if someone finds out when you get transferred to maximum security? But I got transferred, and after several months my government finally sprang me out and now I’m free.
This interview is from the spring 2026 issue of VICE magazine, THE NOT THE PHOTO ISSUE. Get four issues each year, sent straight to your door, by subscribing here.
The post I Turned a Police Station Into a Tattoo Studio appeared first on VICE.
