The phrase I put as an epigraph to this chapter came to my mind when a tall stout warden slipped on the ice and rammed at full speed the ice-covered concrete wall. Prisoners watched the sprawled body with unconcealed interest.

- He won’t get up. Want a bet? - a short smart prisoner offered to a lanky unshaven guy from Donetsk.

- He will, - the latter said slowly but evaded the bet.

He was right. Snarling ferociously the warden got to his feet and drove us on. It would be impossible for a normal human being. But with that one it was just like water off a duck’s back!

I often wondered if prison staff had any gray matter in their brains. If the answer is positive then I guess all the efforts of their gray matter are only directed to one goal: where and how to snatch as much as possible.

Once the warders burst into our cell with a shake-down just before dinner. That same day my cell-mate got a food parcel from home and we were making cheese sandwiches. The wardens started turning everything upside down, one tore the makeshift clothes line down. The newly washed clothes fell down on the floor messed up with our personal things. The intruders ate some of the sandwiches and threw the rest down on the floor.

Don’t they eat at home? Hardly so. And why do they have to stamp the food so precious to us? I was mad but my cell-mates seemed indifferent to what was going on. They got used to such things. Nothing unusual, just ordinary shake-down. Drab monotonous days where a prisoner is a speechless human substance deprived of any civil rights.

I watched my cell-mates collecting their things from the floor, discussing what was missing. I felt no hatred. Only dull rage and contempt towards complacent boors who make a profit out of other people’s misfortune. They are so worthless that nobody even tries to bribe them. So those blockheads take away prisoners’ possessions to make up for lost opportunities. According to their stupid code to take from a prisoner is in the order of things. They are sure it has nothing to do with stealing. It is just their humble contribution to fighting crime in the country.

Overwhelming majority of prison wardens take real pleasure in searching prisoners. They enjoy humiliating people attracted more by the process itself than by the final result. Their diligence can only be envied. Not everyone is able to look into the anal cavities from morning till night.

On the eve of the holidays ‘tin soldiers’ become even more active. General searches shake prison. Prisoners returning from interrogations or meetings with lawyers are searched several times. Foodstuffs received from relatives (often with great difficulty) are taken away - pigs need something to go with vodka.

When on the New Year’s eve I was returning to the cell the wardens, already drunk, were roaring with laughter. Nobody paid much attention at me. Frankly, there was nothing to notice: a bar of chocolate, a couple of oranges, a plastic bottle of mineral water and a stack of newspapers. Nothing much for an ordinary person but a whole fortune for a prisoner.

The water was still, not carbonated. The bottle was half full - I drank some water during the meeting.

- What have you got?

- Water.

- Why water? - His chicken brain was not able to understand why I needed water. Rusty liquid from the prison tap was impossible to drink even after boiling. A glass of clear water became almost a fixed idea.

- You can smell it, - I said opening the bottle.

The beast not only smelled but made a big swallow. I looked at his dirty face and oily lips and realized I had nothing more to drink.

- You can have the rest.

I tried to hide my feelings hoping he would at least return the bottle - it had been recently included into the list of banned things.

While he was following me through the labyrinth of corridors he finished the water and was disappointed:

- To no effect!

He still thought it might have been some alcoholic drink without any smell or taste.

- I told you it was plain water.

- Water… - echoed the beast. He belched loudly and left me alone.

Another interesting thing happened with one of my cell-mates. For the first time I saw him, usually sullen and reserved, laughing heartily. During one of the routine shake-downs wardens found a packet of washing powder among his belongings.

- You should have seen them smelling and tasting it!

- Thought it was cocaine, that’s for sure!

- I don’t know what they took it for but at least fifty grams have been

eaten.

- You are lucky they didn’t take it away!

- Not that lucky. I had to share. Fifty-fifty. Who should be in prison for

extortion - I or they?!

My neighbor turned red with anger. I can understand what he felt. Washing powder was first paid for at the store, then the guards were bribed to let it into the cell and on top of all that, half of it had to be given away. Even cheap washing powder turns into quite an expensive commodity.

Prison administration always complains about lack of funds for basic needs. However, when prisoners’ relatives want to send them something administration won’t allow it: “Prisoners have all they need. Prison provides them with everything”.

In fact, nothing is available in prison. Even the simple things we are so used to take for granted. Practically all prisoners sleep fully dressed - and not because they want to: the temperature in the cell never rises above 5 C. Appalling conditions, no sanitation, absence of ventilation, fresh air and daylight. All these cause various illnesses, deterioration of health in general and eyesight in particular. Any commission sent for a check-up of conditions in prison is shown the same model cells with regular bedsteads and linoleum on the concrete floor.

In order to bring ‘places not so remote’ into line with the international requirements of the United Nations which in 1955 adopted the Minimal Standards for Treatment of Prisoners it is not necessary to raise additional funds for the penitentiary system. The government won’t give the money anyway. Hoping for the help from the state is futile. However, there is a way out. And easy enough at that: to abolish all the stupid bans imposed by prison administration. Among prisoners there are quite well-off people who would be willing to finance the necessary repair work, decent furnishing of prison cells including basic necessities for prisoners. There is only one little problem: wardens will lose their stable source of income, there will be nothing to bribe them for. That is why the intricate system of bans and prohibitions is carefully protected by administration. It is within their authority to turn any ‘can’t’ into ‘can’ for a certain award, of course.

It is interesting to compare things that are banned in different Ukrainian prisons. Why, for instance, canned meat is allowed in Dnepropetrovsk but banned in Kiev? Why in some Kiev prisons filter cigarettes are allowed while in others - strictly banned? Most surprising is that very often what was banned becomes all of a sudden allowed and vice versa. Bed linen, for example, had been first allowed to prisoners, then banned. Later allowed again and after a while banned again. Why all this nonsense? Are there any documents regulating all these bans? Who are they signed by? based on what laws?

Everyone knows that there are certain decrees, resolutions, orders regulating the standards of keeping people under arrest. However, no one has an idea of what exactly they say. What is the purpose of reading all those documents anyway? Prison administration will interpret any document the way it suits them. What lawfulness can we talk about if the highest authorities in the country pay no attention to the laws acting only in their personal interests?

In the developed countries penitentiary system is within the authority of the Ministry of Justice. This ensures observance of laws in prisons. In Ukraine camps and prisons have always been subject of subordination to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. As a result, the ones who break into homes and arrest people are then responsible for keeping the arrested in prison. It’s the same Ministry, only a different department. People know each other. Nothing is easier for a cop than to call his buddy and say: “We have brought a criminal to your prison. Make sure he is not too happy there”. A friend will never refuse to do a favor. As simple as that.

Prison is a concentration of negative energy that affects the state of mind of both prisoners and wardens. The question is not whether a prisoner’s health will be ruined or not but when he will start having trouble with his heart, liver, brain?..

Depending on how the wardens treat prisoners they can be divided in two categories:

- aggressive who take it out on prisoners

- and non-aggressive but indifferent to other people’s suffering.

It is futile to try and find mentally sound people among prison staff. Same as go to Africa looking for a blonde aboriginal. The only thing that helps prison employees to keep sanity is absence of mental activity of any kind which a wide-spread phenomenon.

I want to emphasize once more: for a normal person with a normal state of mind working in prison is absolutely impossible. If such a person happens to be in a ‘place not so remote’ it is not for long, believe me. He will either quit or degrade or the system will ruin him completely. No other outcome is possible.

It is like living in a contaminated zone with high level of radiation. A living being either leaves the zone or dies or turns into the same mutant as all around him. White crows never stay long in a black flock.

Psychological inferiority and primitive thinking of wardens is the background for the prison play with numerous acts. I often wondered: what makes people hate other people so much? Why some derive such a pleasure humiliating others? What kind of person is able to work for years in such surroundings?

Ordinary insignificant people have always hated those who succeeded in life. Those who failed in life envy good family relations, nice big houses, expensive clothes of the more successful ones. Any manifestation of success and well-being attracts others but also arouses envy. Well-off people often underestimate this fact though in most cases it is there that the reason of their misfortunes, big and small, lies hidden.

Why should we be hated? Or envied? - they shrug. - Study, work hard and you will have even more than we do.

But the problem is that the envious are too lazy to study or work properly. However, the desire to possess is strong. Their envy is part of the inferiority complex inherent in many homo sapiens. Mediocrity hates bright colors because on such a background its deficiency becomes even more conspicuous. What can be more enjoyable for a beggar than to see his well-off neighbor in trouble? There is a soap opera particularly popular in this country - The rich also weep. Nice title, isn’t it? What can be more rewarding than to humiliate the once more powerful one? Mediocrity won’t miss such an opportunity.

There are different people among prisoners. Not all of them are scum. I have seen bright interesting personalities who arrived behind bars because of imperfect legislation and unlawful actions of police so wide-spread in this country. Such people usually have economic offenses or become scapegoats in intricate political intrigues. They are the ones who undergo the worst suffering. The prison mincing machine grinds them with the utmost satisfaction:

- You are not at the Communist Party resort here! - wardens like to repeat seeing suffering of innocent people.

It is never easy in prison. But if the wardens take ‘special care’ of a prisoner at the request of a buddy from the police department his stay in the ‘place not so remote’ becomes a nightmare. Warders know their job and can be very good at it.