TAMBOV, 08. PART 1

The 7-hour car trip is tough. I try to sleep in the car but wit little luck.
Tambov is a very rural and in many ways still very Soviet. Radio is playing early 90s tunes like Modern Talking, Alisa etc. The architecture is made up of wooden huts and Stalin era buildings. Grim.
We drive to the court, a formal looking building over a green alley. We drop off Ivanovich, the attorney and go to the jail. As we’re driving I tell Tolya all the details about me and A. and he now doesn’t outrule the set up of the situation. We sit in front of the jail store. On its window it says ‘vodka beer’ on, but neither is on sale.
‘Shall we try to get me in to see him?’ I ask.
‘We’ll see” says Tolya.
About 25 men and women in uniform march into the prison block. There will be searches.
A call from attorney, the case will go back to court, as we wanted.
We pick him up and drive back to prison. He suggests we try to get me in as his assistant. Tolya goes to pass my parcel, sausages, cheese, sweets, while Ivanovich and I decide to embark on our little show, hoping to pull it off. I am tired yet alert.

Judging by the colour of their faces most people who work here seem to be on a drinking binge. Every room and passage is dark and smoky. Everyone is puffing on their terrible quality Marlboros or Parliament (I know, I’ve tried them). The ongoing sound of heavy metal doors angrily being shut and large dogs barking. I later see it is, as I expected, German Shepherd. It is all pretty much like in the movies.
With each step the feeling is heavier.

We go to 3 more dusty, smelly offices, where I endure many more eyes staring back at me with suspicion as attorney and I are playing out our ‘I will fire you if you will forget your pass again’ scene, before my ten times stamped slip becomes my pass inside.

After our bags are take from us and another set of metal doors are slammed shut behind us and we climb a set of stairs.

‘Turn left here’, says Ivanovich. We come to a row of numbered doors.

‘ You can go to number 3’ the guard said.
We enter. The room is empty except for a wooden bench table and chair and a peanut can used as an ashtray. I pretend to be ok. It’s a kind of pretending I am used to.

WAR 08.08.08 The movie

Yesterday i was invited to a screening of a documentary film that was to reveal 'the truth of Georgia's attack on South Osetia'. It had almost a Hollywood name. 'War 08.08.08. The betrayal.'

Here is a link.

http://www.russia.ru

It was implied, of course, that it was Georgia's 'Big Brother' the US that was fully behind it. A cute joke was told about how America confused it's own state of Georgia with Georgia the country. Film was made on government cash and the presentation, judging by the pastries and fresh fruit before the screening and Osetian dishes we were invited to taste after the film, was also financed well.
The phrases in the film such as 'brutal killing of civilians' and 'genocide' made me cringe. After the screening the makers politely asked if there were any questions, expecting none. I raised my hand. 'Do you not think this film has striking similarities with films, alas not widely available, about the Chechen war?' I asked. The makers went pale. after a pause in response there was some mumbling by one of them and we were asked to proceed to the cafeteria. I chose not to push it. The glances i got told me i was now an enemy. Enemy or not I still had some food before I left )

ZERO...

Today I have finally realised the full impact of the current economic. It is not uncommon that those realisations on an emotional level, as oppose to intellectual, happen when you or someone close to you takes a hit. I got a call from a close friend and loyal supporter of my work from Europe who told me he has gone bankrupt. From $40 million net in his own money and a well-to-do company to pretty much ZERO. He was sitting in a bar, drinking. He is also divorcing his wife so will be spending a night ina hotel. When i said i will call him tomorrow he said he is not sure if there will be a tomorrow for him. And I don't think he was exaggerating all that much and that scared me.
He is an extremely intelligent man who knows more about classical music and especially violinists, it's his thing, than anyone I know. But he doesn't love his wife and never had any goal, let alone a cause, other than making money. Not in order to buy expensive watches, he is not into it, but market has become his life. And you can't, you just can't give your life to that.

Victor Erofeeev

Victor Erofeev, one of the most famous living Russian writers, is under a full blown attack by the main government controlled channel for his criticism of the channel's policies. On a presumably intellectual program 'Gordon Kihot' (ref. to Don Kihot by Miguel de Cervantes) an open attempt to destroy personality of Victor Erofeev was made last night. Whatever one might think of his writing i have great respect for this man. There is also a personal reason for it, i admit. He was one of very few well-known creative people who came to my defence when my play was banned in Russia. In my turn, I will now, of course, voice my outrage over this.

ANNA

Two years since Anna Politkovskaya was murdered. The case has now gone to court. The process is likely to be closed to the press. The killer has not been found so the trial will be over a few middle men who, by definition, cannot know very much. And we will not publicly hear the name of the actual person behind this assassination for years to come.