Letter from a prisoner - Lost in translation

Last semester, I chose linguistics as a filler subject towards my degree. I found the course very interesting as it made me see language in a whole new light. It also made me reflect on my language journey. It is rather ironic that in a world where communication is easier than ever, so much is misunderstood and misinterpreted. This is exacerbated by me being a prisoner as I naturally have limited contact with the real world. I have not managed to keep abreast of the vocabulary that has become part and parcel of daily lingo.

For a bit of context, keep in mind that I came to prison before the advent of smart phones and the social media boom (I assume this is how grandparents must feel when conversing with kids). The world has certainly changed dramatically during the years in which I have been isolated from it. Uber, Snapchat, filters, Samsung Pay, apps in general and the like are concepts which are difficult to comprehend. This was very apparent at a recent visit to the doctor. I felt that the doctor was being rather rude by busying herself on her phone whilst discussing my health. I felt like a complete idiot when it transpired that she was busy perusing my blood test results from her phone and not updating her status! How the world has changed!

As much as I will be lost in translation upon release, I was just as lost when I entered the prison system. Prisoners have their own lingo which is a mixture of languages, cultures and groups such as gangs.

Here are some of the English or made up words that are part of the prison vocabulary (and mine too!):

“Kalkop” – a quarter loaf of unsliced bread

“cement” – breakfast porridge

“dish” – having to serve one’s entire sentence without being released on parole, due to some serious transgression inside prison

“box” – the prison measure for marijuana, equivalent to little more than a pinch of tobacco

“balloon” – condoms

“ten” – the prison measure for loose tobacco

“diya-diya” – makeshift curtains made from sheets or towels which are draped over the sides of ones bed to give a modicum of privacy

“quatier”- prison issued shoes, more or less like childrens school lace-ups

“gas” – electricity

“dye” – any condiment used to make a hot beverage

“pipi”- the male socket at the end of a cellular phone charger

“Six. Nine.” – Urination

“Cheque” – Newspaper that is used to roll a cigarette or joint

“waste” – toilet paper

“scooter” – a rag for cleaning the floor

“wind” – airtime

“scoop” – any plastic container that can hold liquid

As can be seen, many of the words are ordinary English words but used with very different meanings. I will need to revert to the dictionary definitions before I end up  buying my niece a rag instead of a “scooter” or am shocked if she asks for “balloons” or “cheque!”