Vernacular

At the very least, this entire situation has been a learning experience. I have learned a new language which has terms such as dang, homey, fool, and other not so nice names. It appears in every conversation. I am still learning their exact meaning because it seems to vary slightly from person to person. I believe dang means friend as well as homey. Fool means idiot but in a nice sense. The odd thing about vernacular is that it is used across races. The meaning may vary from race to race and some races use these terms more often than others. It is truly amazing to listen to all the conversations which always seem to have these words. I tend not to use these terms because I really don’t seem to say much. It is part of my master plan to lay as low as possible. I just hope I don’t lie too low so the prison system forgets about me.

Another interesting fact about my situation is I am one of the very few who does not have a tattoo (not that there is anything wrong with it). Out of 144 people in my dorm, there is only one other person without a tattoo. Apparently, many of these inmates get them in prison. I have been told that the heads of a cassette player and some type of permanent ink are used to give tattoos here. Some of the inmates have tattoos in very interesting places, some being unmentionable. One of the places I find fascinating is the side of the head which must have been very painful. The inmates have very extensive artwok and if transferred to a piece of canvas, these portraits could hang in an art gallery. As you can see I am truly a fish out of water.

Today was “Yard Day” and I walked the entire hour and forty-five minutes. If someone says hello or makes a comment to me I always greet them with a smile no matter the circumstances. Respect is a key ingredient to survival and I respect all. We are all human beings living under the same roof and we all need to get along. Thank goodness everyone so far abides by this rule.

Also today marked the inmates leaving for the main-line who were replace by those who were arriving here. Different personalities departed the dorm and were replaced by others. The dynamics change but overall the rule of respect prevails.

Yesterday I wrote about how my fellow bunkmates are seeing that I get enough food. Today I had eleven apples in my drawer! I can’t seem to eat them fast enough, but it’s nice to know my fellow inmates are looking out for me.

Clothing exchange here is done once a week. Since I only have 3 pair of pants, 2 shirts, 2 tee shirts, 3 boxer shorts and 2 pair of socks, I need to wash in-between in the sink or shower with a bar of soap. Washing is not the problem – drying is the problem. We can only hang the items from our bunk at certain times of the day. I learned the hard way that the drawer is not the optimum place to dry clothes. These drawers are made of metal and are not clean or new. The rust rubbed off on my clothes and I had to rewash them.

Still no mail and I don’t know how long it takes to receive my letters. This is a very large facility and each piece of mail that is sent and received is inspected. I must confess that I am looking forward to my first letter because I miss everyone so much. I have my good days and not so good days but I am trying. What I am trying to do is NOT think about what I have done to my family. This is so detrimental and unfortunately I do find my mind drifting from my reading. I start to look around and say, “How did I get here?” Well, I certainly know the answer to that question. I’m a compulsive gambler who ignored all the warning signs. I am not going to rehash old wounds and I am going to leave it at that. I will say today was not such a good day but I made it through and I will try once again tomorrow.