A  DAY  BEHIND BARS  IN  STARA  ZAGORA

Sunday comes. Visiting day. I wait every Sunday. I’m waiting now with a sinking heart. No one comes. Have I vanished without a trace? Do they remember me? Does she love me? Letters. I know them by heart. I need faces, hands, words.

Someone calls me. What a joy! Some bread and cigarettes – but I have to pay, it is a Dutch treat. By the way, today is my birthday. Happy Birthday dear prisoner! In the afternoon I take care of my clothes. My favourite serial film starts – a sip of escapism. After dinner I chat to my fellow inmates. Possibly they have some news for me. This Sunday I am the forgotten one.

It’s already eight o’clock and I take up the offer of a game of cards – Belote. Time flies. Ten o’clock and I turn in. I’m lost in my dreams. I imagine my sweetheart waiting for me. The officer is pushing the door. I’m drifting off….. Sweet dreams. I want to sleep till the next Sunday.

A day inside – a day of prison life. How dull and boring. I’m down in the dumps. It’s a nuisance even to talk about it. I want to talk about my future. I have not been thrown overboard – I have dreams, and good intentions. My future will be better than this.

Inside I have to be a disciplined man, but I miss my family so much. I have two beautiful girls and I want to do everything I can for their future. I’ll work hard for their education. I know I hurt them. I don’t want them to be ashamed of me.

I’ll build a palace of a house. We’ll work together, my wife and I. We will love each other.

It is easier said than done: I must endure administration, aggression, silence, obscenity. Can I be patient? Can I stand up to all this ugliness? I’m praying to the Lord for support. I wish all this was over. When the day of my release comes I won’t be afraid. I am confident that I will succeed.

I’m in prison. It hurts to be in prison. My first day inside and I’m scared. Big gates, windows with bars – I’m away from the world. Cold shivers run down my spine.

There’s an officer behind me, a cold door in front of me. There’s a click, then many faces – different faces. They are all looking at me. I look fixedly ahead. For the first time I hear the voices of other prisoners. I come to my senses.

This will be my home now for three long years. Day after day passes. The best experience in prison is the school, the heart to heart talks with my colleagues. Night-time is the hardest time. I’m overcome by painful thoughts. I sleep with open eyes. I miss the way my sweetheart held me. I’m not angry with anyone. I’m angry with me. I went so far I ended up in prison.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow – I’m still in prison. I get up at six o’clock every morning.

I have a smoke before I get washed. When we go to Education at nine we do maths, Bulgarian, history etc. I try to study hard. Some people prefer to stay in their cells and watch TV. In the afternoon we walk around and chat to our fellow inmates. So the day goes past. Dinner is at six and I usually go to sleep about eleven.

The days fly by. Each day I am closer to my release.

A day in prison – I’m a jail-bird. All I want is five minutes more before six a.m and I hear the cutting wall of the alarm. I get up like a robot and make my bed. The warder passes. At seven-thirty we have breakfast.

My radio and I are best friends. Together we do some gym. At nine o’clock I go out to walk in the yard. This is the best time to have conversations with other inmates. At ten o’clock I go back to my “cosy” cell and watch TV news. Twelve o’clock is lunch time for everybody. I eat to keep body and soul together.

At last school time comes. I clear the deck for action. I’m an uneducated person. I’m one of the fortunate prisoners who have the chance to be educated. For the present, education is the most important part of my prison life. It will be useful to me when I get out. In school the time passes very quickly. The teachers will do anything to help our education. They’re very kind. I take a keen interest in group “Basic English”, working on the Socrates programme.

Later there is night toilet, numbers check and… tomorrow is another day.

THE THOUGHTS OF AN INTENTIONAL PRISONER

I learned that the theme of the second magazine was “Community”.

Community of prisoners – what does that mean? Sixty years ago in Bulgaria it was a question of honour to be a political prisoner. Now it means to be branded. Everyone points at you. Everyone keeps away from you. Your life never be the same again. Tomorrow never comes.

Ten years behind bars and my dreams have faded. I don’t know if it was the right thing, but every day I regret my wrong-doing.

In the prison a few people obviously regret their actions. Another group dare not express repentance. A third look daggers at, and curse everyone and everything. To top it all they expect the Nobel Prize for their “peccadillos”.

Prison community – community of interests, commonwealth of frenzy, fraternity of suffering.

For me the only thing left to do is to wait, to hope, to believe.

My thoughts are out of order, because my life is out of order.

B.G. /32 years old/

St.Zagora

GREETINGS FROM STARA ZAGORA

My name is Kalin and I am serving a ten-years sentence in Stara Zagora. We have heart a lot about your country and the good work being done at Lancaster with the MABEL Project. We hope this will continue for a long time. It’s good for people of different ethnic backgrounds to get to know each other and indeed explore each other’s thinking and way of life.

I have already learned something about life in England and have found it very interesting. When I get out I want to change my life. I hope to find a job and stay out of trouble so that I don’t have to come back here. I have found that writing and receiving letters is an interesting and enjoyable way of passing the time in prison.

Kalin

Stara Zagora

All translated by Snejana Radkova