“This was the Karma for some of the things I did in my life!” Reliving my past trauma

BY SIMONE J. SMITH

“Hola”

Really Simone! That is the only thing you could think of to say right now?

I was nervous. Okay! I am going to admit something here. It is hard to pinpoint a feeling when you are in a stressful situation. You want to feel everything, yet nothing at the time. I am glad that I was even able to describe a feeling at that moment.

If you are just joining us, my name is Simone Jennifer Smith. At the age of 33, I had successfully found myself imprisoned in Panama. Yeah! I know. I definitely want you to join me on this journey, because I think that we all can learn something from it. I certainly did.

I was catching everyone up on my first morning in the holding cell in Panama.

Here I was, cramped and ache, knowing that this was just the beginning of my current woes.

The girls looked at me curiously. They all appeared relatively young (25 – 35), and for some reason, seemed calm in their situation.

“Hola,” the older one of the three said. She then followed up with a train of Spanish. I could only look at her blankly and say, “Perdón, pero no hablo español.” I had been dating a Latin American man for four years, and that was all I could come up with. Geez! Looking back at it, I realize that I had lost an opportunity to learn a language.

She giggled, unaffected by my lack of vernacular. She said something to the other girls, and they nodded, and looked back at me interested. When you watch movies, they always showing these holding cells a certain way. Angry women. A mean looking heifer, glaring icily at everyone. An emotional young girl, scared out of her wits. Crying uncontrollably. Panama was none of that.

I don’t know how long these women had been there, but for some reason, that first initial interaction put me at ease. The heavy steel door swung open, and an officer stepped in with plastic trays of food. He handed them out to us, and I looked at it not sure what to make of it. I can’t describe what was in front of me. I think it was supposed to be eggs, but not sure. There was some type of meat on the plate. Sausage perhaps. I just looked at it unsure of what to do.

I looked up to see what the other girls were doing. They had already started eating, and they seemed focused on the task at hand. I looked back down at my plate and thought to myself, “Why not?” I tentatively took a small bite. Hmmm! The egg thing was bland with no taste. The sausage; it reminded me of the wieners from Jamaica. I mixed them together and kept eating. I was in no position to be demanding lobster and champagne.

I washed my meal down with some watered down coffee, and set my tray to the side. There was a small stall that served as a washroom and a shower. I quietly dismissed myself, and grabbed my small essentials to clean up.

My Caribbean people will understand this. There was a time when you didn’t have an option of hot, or cold water. Your shower was cold. Well, I went right back there. I stood on the edge of the toilet shower with my rag, and soap. I promise. I did my best, but it takes some time to adjust to pissing, and then standing up and taking a shower in the same space.

I have to admit that after the shower, I was able to sort through my thoughts a little better. I knew in my heart that this was supposed to happen to me. This was my Karma for some of the things I had done in my life.