José Manuel Domínguez was one of the four inmates who were part of the Ecos de Soto magazine from its beginnings. Only two of us remain from the early days, with more colleagues joining over time. There is rotation, which means that none of us are here forever. Some will leave earlier, others later, but we will all eventually leave. José Manuel, a very cheerful companion who balanced writing with the module’s economic activities. A very prepared person, who while in prison tried not to fall behind. But, despite making the most of his time in the best possible way, he had to face the harsh reality of society. That nothing is easy. That coming back is a slow process. No one gives anything away and you have to fight, especially at that crucial moment of leaving prison and reintegrating into society. That’s why we wanted him to share his experience. We were curious to know how it went.
One spends months or years, as was my case, waiting to leave Soto de Real to regain your life, to enjoy the things you were deprived of while inside. In Soto, one lives with very little, and I got used to the few things I bought in the economic store, to the visits from my family, to the monthly visits… You get used to that material and sentimental austerity. You learn not to spend more than necessary, to lend just enough, to eat what is given to you, and to dress with a few items that you rotate every week. You know that one day this will end and you will do those things you enjoyed so much and made you happy Again, which we all have on a list of things we want to do. We all make that list, in my case, it was written many times and shared with my colleagues. When you leave, you think you will be the same and it is not so. You think you will see the world as you remember it and it is not so. You think people are as you remember them and it is not so, because they have changed and have new habits and customs. And starting over is not easy. It is not easy to catch a train you fell off of without knowing very well where. Your life from before no longer exists, it has been devastated, and you cannot expect it to be the same. Your aspirations, dreams, professional career… Nothing exists anymore. Nothing will be the same, and the sooner you accept that, the better.
The other thing you have to manage, out of necessity, is returning to the working world. Something not easy at all. Of course, it depends on each individual’s age and profession, but things have changed. You are older, you come from where you come from, and it seems like it’s written all over your face. The situation in the world is not easy and in Spain even less, and that is noticeable in the job market. The prices of things have gone up a lot, and salaries very little or not at all. Sometimes I have missed Soto. Yes, I admit it. There’s a routine, rules, and no rush or responsibilities. You have peace and time. And that doesn’t exist outside. You enter a world where you can’t stop, where it seems like you never reach the next curve, and your bank account barely holds on month by month. And yes, I also miss many people because for a long time they have been the pillars I leaned on. Inside prison we are all the same and we all suffer. Outside you feel like the weirdest creature on earth no matter how much you try to seem normal. But you’re not, and many times it seems like people know it.
I admit that once I returned to Soto. I went to see some friends who live in a nearby town and drove to the center’s parking lot. I saw the tower, breathed the air, and felt how close I was to the friends I left there and who I miss so much and wish they could leave that place. I thought that if I shouted, they would hear me. I smiled, greeted the tower, said goodbye to my friends, and left.
One believes that they leave the prison and will be free, but it’s not like that. At least I don’t feel that way because I haven’t been free yet. I have more freedom to do many things but I don’t feel free. The first step after leaving Soto is not easy. And that’s the step to the CIS. Not all of them are the same, and life in them is sometimes not easy, as there is nothing to do and not all of them allow you to leave daily. Spending several days in the CIS without leaving can be worse than being in Soto. Getting a job solves it, but it’s not always easy, and the job comes and goes.
Then comes the electronic bracelet, which becomes another step and turns me into a Cinderella who has to be home by 11 o’clock at risk of becoming something not good. It has allowed me two things: to sleep at home every day leaving the CIS and to gain weight. Because I stopped going to my gym out of shame. Because that thing is not easy to hide and because I don’t want people to look at me and point at me.
Everyone experiences their relationship with the bracelet in a different way.
The third step is probation at three quarters, but I have just applied for it and I can’t say anything yet, except that few people ask for it.
Not everyone knows where I have been. If I have worn a mask all my life, now I wear a bigger one and that experience has made me an expert. Now I am used, out of obligation, to lie a lot about where I have been during this time and why I did not call the people who missed me.
It is incredible to go out and see the sea, swim at the beach, dance, eat a thousand different things, go out at night, hug so many people who missed you, wear clothes that you haven’t worn in a long time, buy new things… and it’s worth it because Soto leaves you very refined.
Recently I took my first trip on a regular bus and I felt like I was going to New York, and I was only going to Valladolid. I can’t even imagine how I will feel when traveling by train. The plane now seems like something out of science fiction. All of this was on my list. These and other things that I have managed to do, buy, enjoy, see, kiss, drink, taste, hear or touch. But there are two things on my list that I haven’t been able to cross off yet: having a vacation and feeling free again.
