Ready to get out — on the right path

By Johnny Brannon
Advertiser Staff Writer

Vans Ichiyama is just a step away from freedom. So is Jardine Tambra. They're among the 32 male and 15 female inmates working outside prison through Project Bridge, and both say they're committed to beating their addiction to ice.

Jardine Tambra, top, and Vans Ichiyama, above, work outside prison in Project Bridge. Tambra says she used ice to ease the pain of her mother's death. Ichiyama says addicts must learn to admit they need help. Eugene Tanner • The Honolulu Advertiser

It took a long time to find his way back. And it took help.

Deep in addiction, Ichiyama was busted for possession of an ice pipe. He was still using when he was finally prosecuted a year later and placed on probation. He failed to complete a drug-abuse treatment program and was sent to prison for two years.

"It must have been my own self. I wasn't ready to quit that time," he said. "Even though it was a bad thing to go to prison, maybe it was a good thing for me."

In a prison treatment program, there was nowhere to run from the truth.

"For me, I always had to learn the hard way," he said. "I kind of hard-headed person. You get your pride. But I have to let go. I used to blame other people, but the only one I can blame is myself."

He never thought he'd get hooked on ice. It was new at the time, and became popular quickly.

"Everybody was trying 'em. That was the thing to do," he said. "You get caught up without even knowing it. I see plenty people now who want to quit, but they gonna need help. It's real hard for say that: 'Help.' "

Tambra, 37, said she and other general population inmates at the Women's Community Correctional Center used to mock participants in the prison's treatment program.

But after going through treatment herself, she knows there's nothing funny about ice addiction.

"Today I hang out with awesome, awesome girls that walk you through everything," said Tambra, of Pearl City. "We all get problems, but we walk each other through."

It was pain, she said, that made her turn to crystal meth.

"I first started using after my mother passed away," she said. "I was with a boyfriend that was using at the time, and I was in so much pain and hurt for my mother passing on. I heard that crystal meth kind of blank out the pain, so I just went along and tried it on my own."

She ended up losing much more, including custody of her two children. But after years of stealing from cars and garages to support her habit, Tambra is learning the pride — and pain — of hard work.

"I make an honest living, and today I buy things with my money and it hurts," she said. "It hurts to spend your own money so I can imagine, the things I was taking from people out there, how people felt. They worked hard for get what they got. And I was out there high on crystal meth, all numb, not even realizing what I put people through."

Today, Tambra wants to rediscover her children and her home.

"I can tell somebody 'I love you' today," she said. "Before, I couldn't even express those feelings. Today, I tell my kids 'I love you' and they laugh because they're not used to seeing this side of their mother."

Through her gradual transition to life outside prison, she's found a new appreciation for all she has missed.

"I don't even know the island that I live on because in my addiction I just kept closed up in a house," she said. "The only time I came out was to steal something from my own neighborhood. It's kind of sad. I've lived here all my life and I'm a tourist in my own land."

Reach Johnny Brannon at jbrannon@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8070.