What do prisoners eat in guantanamo bay




















You feel as though you are choking, being strangled, and yet somehow still able to breathe. At the same time, it is also torture to force a man to choose between giving up his only means of protest and giving up his life. Remarkably, when faced with two inhumane options, the American government seems to have chosen both of them. If true, this is a particularly cruel, sadistic approach.

At the very least, if the American government is going to torture detainees by force-feeding them, it should return to the old policy of doing so before they starve half to death. Better yet, the American government should stop denying Guantanamo detainees their basic legal and human rights. Detainees would not have to hunger strike in the first place if they received timely, fair trials and humane treatment.

They demand justice for themselves in the only way they can because the rest of the world does not demand it for them. They are slipping away because no one notices. Lakhdar Boumediene was the lead plaintiff in the Supreme Court case Boumediene v. Prisoners on punishment had one small consolation: They could still talk to, and hear one another, from inside their cells.

He would announce a full menu with numerous courses and narrate the prep, cooking, and serving of each dish to every inmate within earshot.

Things that we've missed so much. He knew how much it meant to them. With little or no contact with the outside world or their families, thousands of miles from home and its comforts, these imaginary banquets became a vital source of nourishment. He would take his time, describing ingredients, aromas, and cooking techniques with as much detail and nuance as he could manage.

It wove a spell, conjuring up an imaginary rush of flavor that could push the men out of their cells, settle them around a table, and let them feast in freedom. Errachidi knew it was a powerful tonic, but he also understood how hard they might land when the reverie wore off.

I have to find a way to bring them back to reality, to their cell, in a very nice, gentle way. At first, freedom was hard to deal with. Years of cravings and hunger had taken their toll on his appetite, and he ate voraciously, gorging himself to sickness at every meal.

Nor could Errachidi simply slip back into the routine of regular life in Tangier. His release caused a flurry of press coverage, book offers, and attention from around the world. All the while, he was struggling to adjust to a world of plenty. I haven't seen a gas cooker for five years. I haven't touched wood for five and a half years. I haven't slept one night in a dark room for five and a half years.

He and his family opened a restaurant called Cafe Terrasse Boulevard in Tangier, a few blocks from the waterfront. Thirteen years years later, Errachidi is still in the kitchen, serving continental breakfasts and traditional Moroccan dishes to tourists and locals. But the starvation, abuse, and deprivation have left their mark. The sight of a bar of chocolate can trigger intense flashbacks of isolation and craving. But the memories are also a reminder of all that he has to be thankful for.

Only the occasional detainee being moved to the medical facility or the Camp 4 inmates hanging their laundry are visible to visitors.

Every now and then a prisoner in the white garb denoting the highly compliant waves or clowns for photographers, but any image showing his face will be deleted by censors. The solitary life endured by the majority winds down each evening with the last bean-hole exchange and a final prayer call. A yellow traffic cone marked with a P for prayer time positioned at the head of the cellblock reminds guards to keep the noise down. Some prisoners grow their hair long and drape it across their eyes to aid sleeping, as Australian David Hicks, transferred home last year, told his lawyer in explaining his nearly waist-length tresses.

Another day like the more than 2, most have already spent here is heralded at 5 a. Carol J. Williams is former senior international affairs writer for the Los Angeles Times. A foreign correspondent for 25 years, she has won five Overseas Press Club awards, two Sigma Delta Chi citations and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in international reporting.

She left The Times in All Sections. About Us. B2B Publishing. Business Visionaries. Hot Property. Times Events. Times Store.



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