Providential - A true story you wouldn´t believe - Chapter 48

in Scholar and Scribelast year (edited)

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Do you know that feeling, that you have to do something.....but can´t quite remember what?
This story is just that.
I remember being told to write it but I can´t remember what I was supposed to tell you. What I do know is that everything I am going to tell you really happened, even though it may unbelievable sometimes.

Hit Rewind to start from Chapter One

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Chapter 48

A cell just for me was really such a relief, it is so uncomfortable to know you are keeping a killer awake. It´s true that you can't do anything about it yourself, but the guy you share the cell with can do something about you.


As with all good things this one didn´t last as well. Just when I was getting the hang of this prison routine, had a place of my own, and started to get acquainted with some of the inmates from Granada, I got put on a bus.

There I was in a weird-looking Guardia Civil bus sharing a little holding cell with a gitano (gypsy) guy that couldn´t have been older than 19.

I had seen him before in the yard where we would have our 90 minutes of fresh air. I noticed him when he was talking to a very tall guy with no front teeth.

That tall guy arrived one or two days after I got in and directly he got everyone´s respect. I had noticed that much and while standing with "my friends" not too far from the gypsy kid we witnessed the following.

The tall guy was pointing at the kids' shoes, and when we listened in we could hear that they both complimented each other on their shoes. Then the tall guy suggested a swap, I think I saw the kid hesitate for a second. Then he said something like "sure," and they swapped their shoes right there and then.

That little bit of hesitation and the utter weirdness of this told me that this wasn´t a normal jail thing. This was a pure show of force, without having to get physical and draw any attention to yourself.

Now I could not believe that they felt comfortable wearing each other's shoes, but the balance of power was clear.

Imagine my heartbeat when a day later the tall guy came up to me and offered me a coffee and something to eat. I politely thanked him and declined, worried that he would want to swap coats with me because that was probably the only good thing I had on me.

He insisted, so I had little choice but to accept a coffee and a bag of chips. He even got me a second bag that I tucked away in my pocket.
"Are you from Granada," he asked and I explained to him that I was Dutch, but had been living here for years and that I loved the city.

Of course, the topic of my being here came up and I explained to him that I wasn´t sure but that I thought that my girlfriends' mom had done something to get me arrested.

He was so chill that it was hard to believe, he said that I did the right thing by allowing the extradition and that once I would be in Holanda everything should be solved soon.

Then he started telling his story. I probably missed some parts as these Granada guys talk really fast and have a pretty thick accent. He told me how for some reason he was very angry with another guy owning a bar. He was so pissed off that he drove down the mountain and parked his car inside the bar. Once he had smashed through the wall he got out and took down two or three guys before getting arrested.

He told me his name and that he was pretty well known in Granada. I could imagine you wouldn´t overlook this guy easily, then he continued saying that if I ever got in trouble I should just tell them that I knew him.

That sounded like a bit of a bluff to me, but on the other hand, all the guys here respected him from the moment he walked in. So surely it was not a total bluff.

Up until this day, I hate the fact that I forgot his name, luckily I have not been in any situation since that would have benefited from dropping his name. Still, it was an exciting experience I was able to walk away from wearing my own coat, having coffee in my veins, and chips in my pocket.

Hence, I knew this guy next to me on the bus a little and when we spoke a bit it became clear the guy didn´t know how to read or write.

That was probably the first time I met someone younger than myself that was illiterate. It underlined the stories you are told about gypsies in the south of Spain and I wondered what kind of life this young guy would have ahead of him. That gypsy lifestyle has always made me so curious, and I still have to figure out why.

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We were taken to a prison somewhere in the middle of nowhere, from where we would be transferred to our places of destination. When we arrived it soon became clear that for me that was Madrid. The gypsy guy clearly went somewhere else as I never saw him again.

Madrid was huge and then I mean the prison and not the city, or it was huge compared to Granada, I do not have a lot of experience to compare it to.

What I did know was that by now it was Wednesday and it didn´t seem like I would be going home any time soon, because Thursday and Friday were bank holidays. After the holidays there would be a weekend, knowing the Spanish culture that meant nothing moved till Monday.

For the first time since I got jerked out of my house I was right, nothing happened. The bad thing I had to share the cell again.

The guards thought it would be nice if I would share a room with another guy that didn´t speak Spanish. They put me together with Captain Dimitri, a Georgian sailor who was arrested for smuggling hash.

He kept claiming that he was innocent and only was hired to sail the boat, but did not know about the bit of extra cargo it carried.

Now, why would you keep saying that while you are serving time already, then again innocent people do not get locked up in free Western countries, right?

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Now, why would you keep saying that while you are serving time already, then again innocent people do not get locked up in free western countries, right?

LOL, you would know about that wouldn't you :)

I forgot about Gitanos and Gitanas, in the sense of how they're called lol. I sure think the ones here are way less annoying than those in Budapest. There I'd see them every day and there would always be a few of them making trouble, here not so.

Try to remember that guys name lol, or try to google him :P could come in handy one day :)

!PIMP

I would recognize him easily, but I do not even have a clue or a first letter or sound stored on my mental hard drive. Lets hope I just don't need him, I do wonder why he was so nice to me, he had no reason...but most of the people I met in jail were pretty decent which I did not expect

Oh maybe you will bump into him in Granada one day lol, and then have this sense of "did we meet before" until you realize where this was :)

You can never have enough friends (that did time)😂

LOL,if you say so!


You must be killin' it out here!
@thisismylife just slapped you with 5.000 PIMP, @whywhy.
You earned 5.000 PIMP for the strong hand.
They're getting a workout and slapped 2/2 possible people today.

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