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By Root 1008 0

name of “The Bridewell,” in the coastal town of Esbjerg. She energetically demonstrates her work to me, and I can see that this is also the way she does it. She explains that the matter of gender equality is not left to resolve itself in Danish prisons, and that there is a strict quota established by the Ministry of Justice. In closed prisons and pre-trial facilities not less than 45 per cent of the staff should be female. This is believed to foster gentler attitudes and to create a favorable atmosphere. In open prisons the quota is 30 per cent. The Bridewell in Esbjerg is a closed prison, which means that the inmates are awaiting a court sentence or serving brief periods of less than six months’ detention. The entrance doors are firmly locked and you can’t go out for a stroll in the town. We will come to Danish open prisons shortly. Meanwhile, Ani continues:

“As soon as we are brought a Russian who has been detained on a court order, we give him a book in Russian to keep. The book’s title is A Guide to Serving Custodial Sentences. It describes all the minor details of life, the law, and the prisoner’s responsibilities.”

While we are talking somebody leans against the wall outside cell No. 6, and immediately an indignant-looking prisoner emerges. They had accidentally leaned against the light switch for his cell. No. 6 puts it back on and silently goes in again.

“I expect we stopped him reading,” Ani comments. “Many of our inmates are highly strung, which is understandable. Here is our billiards room to help them relax. Here is the gym. Unfortunately the prisoner currently using it has asked not to be disturbed, so we can’t view it. We shall have to wait until he finishes. Here is the exercise yard. Here is a special room for drug addicts suffering withdrawal symptoms, and also for violent alcoholics or mentally ill people undergoing a crisis. It has a bed with restraining straps. There are no spyholes in the doors of the cells, and surveillance is forbidden. There is clean linen on all the beds. Each has its own washbasin. They have to ask to go to the toilet. A fridge? Of course, but you have to bring your own television. There are aerial sockets all over the place. Any more questions?”

Ani, for all her evident good-heartedness, has the cold eyes typical of a screw. She is strict and direct and is, ultimately, a warder, but in the course of our conversation I start having doubts. Whose side is she on? Whose rights is she defending? Is it not the rights of her own prisoners? The first, obvious comment which occurs to anybody used to living not in Denmark but in, say, Moscow, is, “But for heaven’s sake, this is a holiday home, not a prison!”

“I don’t agree. We have strict rules. We are not an open prison. Everybody here is obliged to work daily in the workshops. If you are in prison you have to work all right.” Ani has an iron Danish logic, and a similar manner of social interaction. Nuances, such as her implication that people do not have to work in the world outside prison, completely escape her. “The staff are required to find work for the prisoners. We talk to companies and point out the benefits. The prison workforce is, after all, cheaper.”

Together, Ani and I leaf through the Guide to Serving … She is clearly proud of it, and indeed of the entire Danish penitentiary system. The chapters are headed, “Free Time,” “Dental Treatment,” “Letters.” Finally we come to the icing on the cake: “If you have difficulty reading, please report this to the staff who will help you to record your letter on a tape recorder.” And in the chapter on “Religion”: “If your religion forbids you to work at a particular time, you will be excused from working at this time.” Or in “Visitors”: “If you have no family members or friends to visit you, you can ask the staff to arrange for you to meet members of the Society of Prisoners’ Friends. You may meet representatives of the press.”

Well, that’s enough, indeed too much. I give up! It is only too obvious why Russians are so well behaved here, like children from a good family, and why nobody