Birthdays in prison are usually quite melancholy events. No one around knows or cares, and those that do are the friends and family you can't celebrate with. However, this year I have looked forward to my birthday for several weeks. This year is different because i have two friends here who do care and pulled together a special meal for me.
My day got off to a good start with a visit from my parents. It was the first time in over a month I have seen them and I was ready to see their faces again. My mom even brought a special treat - fizzy Skittles. That was something. I'd never tried. I guess that was the theme for the day: something new.
A couple weeks ago OJ and Omar asked what I wanted to eat for my birthday. Now, commissary doesn't have a very extensive selection, so I said I would just go with a normal prison pizza topped with BBQ beef as the meat. That was something I'd never had before. For dessert, I told them I would make a pie of my own creation. The crust was graham cracker with cocoa and peanut butter mixed in. The bottom of the crust was glazed with chocolate syrup and covered with candy orange slices. Chocolate pudding with peanut butter made the filling and the top was dressed with crushed Chick-o-Stick. It turned out better than I expected, a good mix of flavor.
I was surprised with the handmade cards that had been signed by a few friends in the dorm. That was beyond what I had imagined possible here. On my birthday, I am thankful for the many blessings that God has given me, especially friends who go out of their way to make this day extraordinary.
Yesterday's events were incredible for this inmate and I don't think there was much I could do to alter them. First, a bit of background.
This unit has a dog program called Paws of Hope, where ten dogs are brought from a nearby shelter to stay with inmates for six months. the dogs stay in the cells and the inmates spend their time training and resocializing the dogs. At the end of the six month, the dogs are graduated and have, in the past, had an adopted home to go to, usually to a family of one of the inmates in the program.
Paws of Hope is an awesome method for taking the dogs and giving them a new life while also giving the inmates responsibility for another life and training the dogs, often brightening the inmate's days when he comes home to a canine friend after a day at work.
The dog graduation took place yesterday, attended by the inmates, their respective dogs, and the inmates' families. I was waiting outside the library for my boss to show up (she didn't - she was sick) when an officer asked me to set up the sound equipment for the ceremony. After setting it up, I told them to call me out when they needed to break it down or call me earlier if they needed any help.
Around 3:00 I was called down to turn the volume down. Really? Just turn the knob! Once I turned it down, they started a video montage set to music showcasing each one of the dogs for five minutes, followed by interviews with the inmates. To save you the trouble, I'll do the math: one hour total was spent watching and seemingly endless photos of the same dogs. Can you say embellishment?
The good stuff came after the ceremony. The culinary arts clerks made two cakes for all involved, so I got to eat some yummy food after I put away the sound equipment. After the guests left, I learned that the guys were going to watch a new movie on a small TV, so I offered to put the projector and speakers together for them to watch the movie - a much better use than watching doggie portraits! I didn't expect to stay, but the officer in charge told me to stick around. In addition to a newly released DVD, we got body-shaking sound, a six-foot screen, and pizza made by the culinary arts guys.
As I watched the movie, I asked myself if I was in prison. The crazy thing is that I felt the answer was "no".
Since we don't have any money here in prison, we are forced to go back to the Middle Ages to get many things we want by bartering. Yes, we have a commissary, but there are goods and services that the commissary doesn't provide, such as shoe repair, books, or extra ingredients on demand for that scrumptious spread you and your cellmate are throwing together.
For instance, my shoes were coming apart at the seams. Instead of spending $35 on a new pair through the commissary, I paid a guy a jar of hair grease and a couple Ramen soups to sew them up. This was about $3 worth of goods given to a guy who doesn't have any way of having commissary unless he works for it every now and then.
This system of bartering is in place despite the institutional rule against "trafficking and trading." This rule makes even giving away food to friends who are hungry unlawful. Needless to say, most guys ignore this rule. Every night there are groups of people in the day room sitting around a table digging into the same prsion pizza. And when someone leaves to go home, they often give away their useful items like shoes, hot pots, and radios.
Giving away these items also opens the market for a new service - forgery. Special purchase items, such as those useful items mentioned above, require property papers to prove ownership.When guys receive these items, whether by trade or gift, they need the property papers and etching to really make the items theirs. This is to prevent valuable items from being stolen. There are a few people who offer forged property papers and re-surfacing/re-etching to keep the items legitimate and in use.
Then there are the specific items that often can't be found in the dorm. Things like speakers and specific books often need word-of-mouth sent out around the unit to see if anyone has the goods or services you're looking for. I did this for two role-playing books that I needed to start up a game. The two books I found were being traded for about $10 worth of coffee and stamps, quite a deal for what are usually found in the free world for at least $50 new. The trade took place over a few days because it's tough to get stuff from one side of the unit to the other.
Just like when I lived in Africa, haggling is a valuable skill to have. Also, knowing the character of the person you trade with is important. Maybe I'm naive but I tend to trust people in transactions. I've been burned a couple times, but both times the transaction was eventually worked out. It's all in the wacky character of the market.
Birthdays in prison are usually quite melancholy events. No one around knows or cares, and those that do are the friends and family you can't celebrate with. However, this year I have looked forward to my birthday for several weeks. This year is different because i have two friends here who do care and pulled together a special meal for me.
