Prison Bacon Scars

Unfortunately more than 5 years of incarceration leave deep scars in a life of any prisoner. And of course I am not the exception, no matter how hard I tried to not allow prison to destroy my life; there are scars deep inside my soul that I can not hide. I became aware of some of those scars during my last furlough.

We all know what foods mean for any living creature on earth. Even though I love food I hate to have to beg for it because it makes me feel worse than being a prisoner. Well, for the last 10 years of my incarceration I have had to beg or trade for some types of food. Do not take me wrong, there is a lot of food in the BOP, but there are some types of food that are rationed such as meat, fruits, ice cream, etc. Therefore some of us negotiate our food in advance by trading, selling or stealing the food. We all know who does what. Since I do not eat meat or prison ice cream and I love fruits, it has been easy for me to trade my meat or ice cream for fruit.

However it is not always that easy. Prior to my furlough they were serving watermelon, and I love watermelon, there is something very special about that fruit. I love the sweet taste, the juiciness and mostly my childhood memories that it brings to my heart. Inside prison we eat watermelon only once a year, for memorial day, and if there is enough watermelon, we east it once or twice before or after Memorial Day. The day that they were serving watermelon, they were also serving bacon, and since I do not eat bacon, it was a great day to barter. We only get 3 or 4 strips of bacon, so one of my fellow prisoner said to me before entering the dining hall: Guanipa, give me your bacon and I will give you my watermelon". I said: "It is a deal." She continued and said: "I am going to get 2 pieces of watermelon, try to get an extra ration of bacon if you can". I replied: "no problem, it is a deal, we will see each other at the table". I was so sure that I was going to find some of my friends serving the food. When I was approaching the line I realized that none of my friends were in the serving line that day. I was debating in my mind whether to beg for the bacon or not. The lady who was serving the bacon did not have a friendly look about her, but I wanted the extra piece of watermelon badly enough. I chose to beg for the bacon, even thought I hate to do that. The lady gave me an ugly look and screamed at me: "move, move out of the line". I had to control myself. I was so close to suffering a hysterical attack, I felt like I wanted to throw my tray and start screaming: "I hate prison, I can not take this any longer, how many more times do I have to beg for bacon in order to trade it for watermelon?, I hate this, I hate this... O Lord, please help me.." I took 3 deep breaths and moved along, while I was thinking: "what I am going to tell my friend; I can not take 2 pieces of watermelon for just one ration of bacon". I said: 'well whatever will be, will be". But while I was in line to get water, another one of my fellow prisoner said to me: "Guanipa, here is my watermelon, I do not like it, take it, I know you do not eat bacon, you were trying to get it for someone else. I said: "thanks". At the table my friend was waiting for me. I said to her: "I am sorry I could not get more than one ration of bacon". She replied: "do not worry I got someone else's bacon, take my 2 pieces of watermelon anyway". I sat-down next to her and I enjoyed my tray full of watermelon while we talked.

But the bacon incident (scar) was still haunting me on my last furlough. We were in a luxury hotel in Orlando where they have a free breakfast buffet. They had everything, i took some yougurt and fruits and we were eating, then I got the desire to eat something hot. All my family was eating either pancakes, eggs, bacon, etc. Across our table was a medium age body-guard type men, that my oldest son said was staring at me. I got-up from the table and went to the hot line buffet area, and opened this beautiful luxurious silver steal casserole and it was full of bacon. I had this unconscienced and unvoluntary reaction and I said to myself: "wow bacon, I do not have to beg for it, I can take as much as I want". And I started piling my plate with bacon, in a raviging manner and like a maniac. Suddently the body-guard looking men was standing next to me and said something that I could not hear but his voice and presence took me out of my trance. I did not ansnwer him, I just roamed to my table thinking: "Oh Lord, he must be a police, maybe he works at Coleman, He is going to accuse me of stealing bacon". Next I am standing in front of my family with a mountain of bacon on my plate and my family is looking at me like I have Alzheimers disease and I forgot that I do not eat bacon, and that I was lost and I did not know what to do next. My sister asked: "Leo, do you eat bacon now?. I said "no". She asked again: "so who is that bacon for?". I replied: " well I brought it for every one in case that any of you want some". She looked confused and said: "do you not see that we have bacon on our plates?". I was too ashamed to tell my family the truth.

I know my sister will be laughing when she reads this, like me when I saw the picture of the plate with the mountain of bacon on it. Like the bacon scar, there are many more scars that this lengthy sentence has left on me. I only hope that my sons, family and friends will be patient with me. But mostly I hope that none of those scars will bring me back to prison. The main purpose of the present draconian sentences is to adjust prisoners to prison life so we will not be able to survive when we go back society. It is a ludicrous notion, as many of you may be thinking, but is is true.

I love you all.
Yraida Leonides Guanipa (Leo)
Feel free to share this e-mail or write to me at:
Yraida L. Guanipa # 44865-004
FCC Coleman-Camp
PO Box 1027
Coleman, Florida 33521-1027