Inside a Bulgarian Prison

Introduction

In Oct 2009 I was scheduled to speak at a conference in Sofia, Bulgaria. I was scheduled the next week to speak at a conference in The Netherlands as well. If you made it to this page and are wondering what lead to my false arrest in Bulgaria, you can read here.

In story telling I often use exaggeration to make a point. But only when its a "tale". In this document I have made no exaggerations, it is strict fact subject to a good memory and detailed notes. In fact, I had limited access to paper and pen, but every day I took notes and have compiled this story from notes I wrote down. It is extremely accurate.

Sun Oct 11

I arrived in Sofia and checked into my hotel, the Holiday Inn.

Mon Oct 12

It was the first day of the conference, although I had no sessions to deliver on this day. When I returned to my hotel in the later afternoon, my key did not work. I have had this happen many times though through mistakes made at the front desk. I went to the front desk and obtained a new key. Later during dinner another speaker said he saw my name on a document at the front desk, but it was in Bulgarian and he did not know what it was. At this point, I still did not suspect anything was wrong.

We had stayed out late at the speaker dinner. I think it was about 2 am when we finally returned to the hotel.

Tue Oct 13

I had a session at 9am, and I wanted to check a few things. After about 4 hours sleep I woke up at 6am to finalize some items. It was 7:30am and I was just readying to leave for breakfast. I had just received a Skype message that my last living grandparent, my grandfather had died a few hours ago. Not a good start for the day.

Someone knocked at the door. I thought it odd, but figured it might be my friend Hadi. It wasn't. There were 3-5 men and a woman. They displayed a badge and said they were from the Bulgarian police and that I needed to come with them. They told me I could gather some things. I thought that whatever this was would be cleared up in a few hours, so I only grabbed my hotel key and a jacket. I've had police ask me before about all the stamps in my passport to far flung places and I've been mixed up with others before.

They escorted me to the front desk and allowed me to make one phone call. I called Hadi and told him I had to urgently go out for a few hours. I asked him to notify the conference organizers that I could not deliver my morning session, and possibly not my afternoon session either.

We then went in two unmarked cars to police station #7 in Sofia. The woman (Veronica) apologized for the conditions of the police station beforehand and that it was not up to American standards. For me this was not really something I had even worried about, I've lived abroad for nearly 10 years and in Russia, Turkey etc. In fact the police station was a little better than I expected. One officer had a sign on his wall "I know you like to smoke. I like sex but don't do it in my office. So please don't smoke in my office.". He was the exception, the rest of the police force were chain smokers. In fact he may have a been a lone soul in all of Bulgaria.

They took me to a corner office and informed me that I was wanted by Interpol for International Kidnapping. This was a complete surprise to me. How could I be charged with this? And especially without a trial that my lawyers were aware of? I tried to explain the situation. They said it was not up to them though. They took my possessions, which was only a hotel key and some money I had in a hidden pocket (about $3,000 USD emergency money). I then had to write a statement. They held me in the office for about an hour or two. Then when they realized this would take a while they asked me to wait in the hall on a small bench.

I waited on the bench a few hours until the US Embassy showed up. They had asked me if they should call them, I said no because of my previous experiences with the US Embassy. They took me to the Police Chief's office where a man named Lance Woody was waiting. He was from the Embassy and called himself a "Regional Security Service Officer". He said he was part of the Department of Justice and was nice for about five seconds. He introduced himself then asked me if I would waive my rights and speak without a lawyer. I said that I would not waive my rights to a lawyer, but that I might discuss some topics without a lawyer. He then proceeded to turn into a complete <expletive removed>.

"Well you've been charged with kidnapping, and you know you are going to go to prison for a long time. I do cases like this all the time. They are going to extradite you, its really easy. Then you are going to sit in a nasty prison for a long time." No reaction from me. He then said "Look, I'm just here to chat really. I'm divorced too. My ex-wife is a bitch. I'm not here to take sides." But thats like a shark saying to the bleeding man "I'm not really hungry", and turned like some switch had gone off in his head. He also said it very quickly and moved on. It made me feel as if he prepared and practiced that statement. Or was this his attempt to connect with me? If so it was a collosal failure.

I don't believe in karma in the religious sense. But I do believe that if you are good to people, eventually some people will remember that and return the kindness to others or you. The inverse is also true. If you treat enough people badly, eventually you will mess with the wrong person. So some day Lance will mess with the wrong person. I thought about trying to explain this too him that his fate is much worse than what he threatens me with, but realize he won't understand it.

Then he asked "Where is the child?". I told him I would not discuss this without a lawyer. Then he would switch to some unrelated question, and then back to "Where is the child?". I continued to stand my ground. He did this about five times. He asked me why I would discuss it with a lawyer but not without. I told him because it was my right. He asked me if the child was in Bulgaria. I said no.

He asked me if the child was with my parents in TN. I said no. At this point I realized that he was not very intelligent and only knew how to intimidate. I've never been trained in interrogations, but I'm not dumb enough to give away facts or show that I don't know something when questioning someone. My parents have never lived in TN, and my father is deceased. He asked me again, and I finally told him. "Look, if you are just going to ask me the same question over and over, we're done." He then, as best I can describe it, threw a hissy fit.

He showed me my US passport which the police has seized. He told me that I was not getting it back. I really didn't care. I think he was surprised when I didn't react. The way I've been treated these last years I had already considered renouncing my US citizenship anyways. My US passport was a special order larger one. It comes with about 48 pages, and I had it expanded twice to nearly 100 pages. They are all full except for about 4-5. I worked for Microsoft Middle East and Africa, so most of the pages are Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and other places in that region. Of course now he tried to make issue of that. He asked if the child was in Pakistan. Then he implied that so many Pakistani, Saudi and other stamps would not look good for me in court.

He had a folder with him that was about an inch thick (2.5 cm). He opened it to the first page which had a copy of my passport, looking at it as if he didn't know what to do. Or maybe it was supposed to be some sort of dramatic pause. Then he asked me about my wife (not ex-wife). "She's Russian isn't she. Here name is Elena?" I said yes. I think he was trying to impress me that he had knowledge that any three year old could find out on Google (oops, sorry, BING, or is it Bing?). In truth, he had pulled all my wife's past visa applications and probably had a few other papers on us in that folder. Maybe he had details of when the US Embassy filed a malicious and false report with the Federal Cyprus Authorities that I was a drug dealer. Is it any mystery why I don't trust the US Embassy? Finally he threw the file down on the Chief's desk for dramatic impact.  I wonder, is that a special technique learned in FBI training, or is it just a behavioral meme? He said "OK, well enough of this. This was just all polite talk anyways. I have a big file here with everything I need to know." He then left and a different person from the Embassy entered.

The Chief came back and said that he had to be there because he had "secret documents" on his desk. Deborah J Ash was the next person to come. She was from consular services, and there to help me if I needed anything. Whether she was there to play bad cop, good cop, or was genuinely nice, I didn't know. She asked me if I had any questions, who she should contact, and who she was allowed to give information to. I had no computer nor phone with me, so I had no telephone numbers. I gave her permission to speak to my family, and asked her to contact two of my lawyers in the US. I told her it was OK to speak to my mother if she contacted the Embassy, but not to call her because my grandfather (her father) just died a few hours ago. We spoke about some small items and she left.

Now I was back in the hall. I had no idea what time it was because my watch was broken, and there was no clock. I sat on that small bench until about 5:00pm. At this point, I demanded they help me find a lawyer because the ones I called did not speak English. They used their personal mobiles to find one for me.

We went back to my hotel room with several men and Veronica. Veronica was not part of the section assigned to Interpol, but she spoke English so they asked her to assist. One Interpol person took a big briefcase with forensic tools. I expected computers, etc. But it turned out to be gloves, a camera, a seal, wax, bags, etc. In the hotel they searched through all my bags. They took all of my identity cards, MP3 player, family photos, laptop, telephone. They took everything except for my clothes and a book. During the search they found my airline tickets, and my second passport. So now they knew probably where I lived. They took all this as evidence and sealed it. As far as I know, it cannot be used or seen by the Americans unless I am extradited. But they took an inventory list and on that list listed my identity cards and numbers, which also reveal where I live.

I don't speak Bulgarian. But a lot of the nouns are very similar to Russian, so I can understand some conversations. The police were discussing my second passport. One said it was fake. The other asked how. The first one replied that you can buy such things for $20 in parts of Sofia. However, my second passport is not fake.

We returned to the police station. I mentioned again that I had not eaten or had any drink all day. Earlier the Police Chief promised I would be fed, but that never turned out to be. They left me with 100 Euros ($150) and about $40 that I had in my wallet. I had no Bulgarian Leva. The translator offered to exchange $10 for 13 Leva. About 9pm they took me to a cafe and offered to let me buy something. At this point I was not hungry, so I bought three small bottles of water.

Next they took my shoe laces and belt and took me to a building next door, also part of the police station. They put me in a small cell with a concrete floor and a small bench made of slats of wood with large gaps between them that was L shaped and ran the length of one wall, and half the other. It had a small opening with bars to the hallway. I thought this would be temporary for a few hours at most until they moved me. It wasn't. It was the equivalent of what might be described as a very small Bulgarian "drunk tank". This police station was in the University section of town, so its cell was adapted to drunks and fighters.

I had only a light jacket, and two shirts on. It was quite cold. It was nearly impossible to sleep on the bench, both because of the wide gaps, and because it was hard not to fall off onto the damp floor. About two hours later they put another person whose name was Peter in the cell. He had lived in Moscow though, and spoke Russian. So we chatted a bit (I speak conversational Russian). He had gotten into a fight and hit a "stupid person". Aside from that he seemed friendly. I asked the guard if I could have a pillow or blanket in Russian. He laughed and asked me if I wanted to watch television too.

We tried to sleep. In the middle of the night, two more people were put in the cell. One ended up sleeping on the floor, I really pity him for having to do that.

They had told me that they can only arrest me for 24 hours. So I had expected in the morning to be let go. I conversed in Russian speaking slowly and using very simple words, and got Bulgarian answers from the other arrivals. I had the address of some lawyers that Deborah had given me. I asked where the bus stop was, how much it cost, and what bus route and direction I needed to go the city center.

While the experience was quite unpleasant, the Bulgarian police, and even the guard who joked with me about a television, were all extremely polite and professional. They did their jobs as they should have. They did not take sides. While America has some good police officers, most could learn a lot from the Bulgarian police. What an irony.

Wed Oct 14

Morning finally came, and about 8am the police came to get me. It turns out that they could only arrest me for 24 hours, but now I was being "detained" instead of arrested. They moved me to a special detention center. Of special note, it was a detention center and not a prison. This becomes important later, although several times I may refer to it as a prison. I was taken to the prison (See, I called it a prison already. Besides it s easier to type than detention center.) by the police in another unmarked car.

At the prison one of the senior guards spoke Russian. I later learned his wife was Russian. He helped me "check in". They took my shoe laces and belt again. This time they also took my jacket because it had elastic cords inside it. They also kept my suitcase. Because I was traveling next week to friends in Belgium, I brought very little clothing. I was going to pick up clothing I had left there in June. I had 5 pairs of socks, 5 underwear, 1 pair of shorts, 1 pair of long pants, 3 short sleeve shirts (2 of which were from the conference), 1 long sleeve shirt, 1 T-shirt, and 1 book which was 1/3rd read, 2 disposable razors, finger nail clippers, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a pair of shoes without laces. That was my complete inventory.

Before entering the prison, my biggest fear was of the guards. Having known some people who have done time in the US, guards were my fear. It appears though that the US penal system targets mean people for hire. While other countries hire normal people. The guards were all nice. They were human. They could not really help, but they spoke to you, even joked with you sometimes. They were never mean, nor even snide. I had a reasonable idea what a Russian prison was like, so I prepared myself for the worst. I assumed it was better than the Russian prison, and since I was prepared for that I was OK. I also figured that while it would be bad, it must meet EU standards right? WRONG. Not only did the prison not meet EU standards, it did not even meet Bulgarian standards by law. It was worse than a Russian prison. One of my roommates had done time in a Russian prison. He told me that this prison was far worse and that he dreamed to go back to a Russian prison.

I was put into a room with other foreigners. The guards said it was equal to the other rooms, but that the "tenants" were cleaner than many of the others. Each room held four inmates. There was Vardo who was Armenian, Nikolai who was Russian, and Ivitca who was Serbian. Vardo and Nikolai were out for their daily "walk" (to be explained later) when I arrived, so it was just Ivitca. Ivitca spoke passable English, and understood some Russian but didn't speak it.. All of them spoke Bulgarian. Nikolai and Vardo spoke Russian. So for the next two weeks, we conversed in Russian. My Russian is funny at times, but we communicated with little issue on various topics. Most people when speaking a foreign language are shy, and afraid to say the wrong thing. I'm completely the opposite. I'm like a child with firecracker. I just mash the best words I can together to get my point across, usually totally goofing up tenses and other conjugations. I'm sure for Russian speakers I am quite a source of entertainment.

There was not much else to do, except talk and smoke. Except I don't smoke, at least not actively I don't. Though during these two weeks I was a passive smoker because we had little ventilation.

Our room was 15 sq meters (160 square foot). 3 x 5 meters (10 x 16 feet). There were 4 beds, a small table, one small stool, a toilet, and a sink. The beds were all on the floor, not bunk beds. There was very little space. If one person was moving about, the other three had to be sitting on their beds. Even by Bulgarian law, it says prisoners must have 7 sq meters of space per person. We had half that including the toilet area.

Vardo helped me to make my bed, because given the cushion and blankets it was not apparent the best way to construct it. I had to use one of my shirts as a pillow case. The beds were old military style beds made from metal straps about 3 cm (just over an inch) wide weaved together. But the weave was very wide, with the open squares being 15 x 15 cm (6 x 6 inches). The cushion was only 1 cm thick (1/3rd inch). The beds were also very old, and several of the metal straps on mine were snapped. Sleeping was not only uncomfortable, but painful. It was hard to sleep more than one hour at a time. I would sleep until it became so painful that I had to turn or move. Then I would move and turn, and try to sleep again. We were given 3 blankets and were not allowed more. Most of the other inmates had received beach chair cushions or thick padding from family to make the beds more bearable.

We were given no toilet paper, no toothbrush, no razors, no shaving cream. I was told there was a "store" that you could buy items from once or twice a month. But that I must wait for special days. But there was a catch. I later learned, a lot of things had catches. You had to deposit Bulgarian Leva into an account, and only family members or outside people could do it. The paper they had me sign also said you could earn a bit of money in this account for good behavior. However from what I was told, that does not actually occur. Fortunately, my roommates (cellmates sounds mean, they were not mean) were extremely kind people. In fact, I was amazed at the generosity as I will explain more later, not just of them but other prisoners I met on the various trips to the detainment cell while waiting on court hearings. They had toilet paper and the other essentials and shared everything without question.

I had this impression that this was our room, and that there were common areas that could be used for at least a few hours a day. That being the case, I figured it would be tolerable. But that was not the case. We were confined to our room 23 hours a day. The 1 hour we were allowed out, was to go "walking". Which I later found out was usually worse than staying in the room.

We even ate in our room. The paper declaring our rights declared all sorts of things that we were guaranteed. But none of them mattered because not even the basics were followed. It stated that we had a right to three meals a day. We were given two. And they were very small. We were each given a small metal bowl, the size of a slightly over sized cat food dish.  The dish was appropriate for a chihuahua. If filled it could contain about 300ml (10 fluid ounces). Less than the contents of a Coke can. This was for food. No drinks were provided, except twice a week a little compote. So there was only water from our sink to drink. Worse yet, the small bowls often came only half full. This was a very frequent occurrence, probably more than half the time. We were also given half a loaf of a medium size loaf of bread. At dinner we were offered an "extra" that we had to scoop into old containers and share. But the extra was normally so nasty no one dared touch it. It was nearly always either margarine that looked like old solidified yellow paint which otherwise resembled play doh, cheese that tasted like a salt block, or "Magic Mac". Magic Mac was some sort of noodle, chopped into tiny pieces so it looked like sticky rice, and then mixed with some sugar.

The bread was either a few days old, or purposefully baked in some manner as to repel. We ate it because we had nothing else. But the bread turned out to be useful for other things that I'll discuss later. I'm surprised the let us have this bread though, because the crust was hard enough to smash a guard on the head and render him unconscious.

The lawyer the police called for me yesterday was supposed to visit today, but did not. Tomorrow would be the first court appearance.

We had no rights to call our lawyers. I later learned this is because we were "detained", rather than "arrested". Vardo was in this prison 2 months before his family even knew where he was. It was over a year before the authorities notified his Embassy.

In fact there was a provision for access to a telephone. But it too had a catch. You had to request to use the phone the week before. Then on a Saturday you would be scheduled 5 minutes to use a phone. However lawyers and other important places are unreachable on Saturday. Furthermore, they gave you a mobile phone and you had to insert your own SIM chip to use. The only way to get a SIM chip was for a family member to bring you one. But if they did not know where you were, and you could not call them with out a SIM chip, how could they bring you a SIM chip?

Each inmate was allowed to receive certain items from family. Every two weeks on Saturday you could receive two packages, and they would be delivered to you on Sunday. Each inmate was allowed 5 kg (12.5 lbs) of food, 5 kg of other items, and up to 50 packs of cigarettes. No that is not a typo, 50 packs of cigarettes every two weeks. Family members could only visit on Saturdays for 45 minutes, every two weeks. During this conversation you had to speak on a phone through a plexiglass window. But the phones were old, and not all of them worked well. So even after your family found where you were, it took another two weeks for you to receive anything you could ask for.

There was really nothing to do all day long. We tried various ways to entertain ourselves. But mostly we tried to sleep, play cards, and talk. Sleeping however was difficult, so mostly people actually smoked continually all day long. With 50 packs per person, times 3 people (remember, I don't smoke), that makes 150 packs of cigarettes. Divided by 14 days, thats almost 11 packs per day, and they smoked pretty close to that. The rest they used to pay the guards for small favors like some warm water from the shower to make coffee. I am very sensitive to cigarette smoke, and always have been. Its not just that I don't like it, it makes me sick. After a few days I spent the mornings coughing up phlegm into the toilet. When I was released I was weak, and quite sick. I went from pant size 42, to 38 in just 2 weeks. I can even now fit in a 36, but not comfortably. This is despite the fact that they each equally shared their food from their families with me. Wonder what size I'd be if I only had the food provided by the prison?

I continued to get sick. Vardo wanted to call the doctor, but all the doctor wanted to do was give me medicine for an infection, which would not help me. I refused to tell them what the problem was. They could not stop smoking if they tried. There was nothing else to do, I could not ask them to stop the one luxury that they had. We had two small metals door that opened at the window. On the other side was double paned glass with embedded wires. So opening provided no ventilation, only let a little bit of sunlight through. The glass was not transparent, you could not see through it. Fortunately, someone had smashed a small hole about the size of ones face in the glass. From there we could get a little tiny bit of ventilation and see the outside world.

They also made and drank cold coffee, both instant and ground. The coffee was brought in as part of the families food pack. To make ground coffee, they used a small cup with a hole in the bottom over top of a bigger cup, and used toilet paper for the filter. The ingenuity or rather desperation at many of the things I saw still boggles my mind. The water was very cold from the sink, so we filled empty water bottles and let them sit until they at least reached room temperature.

I had one book, and I was afraid to continue reading it. I wanted to save it until I was so bored that I could not possibly find any other way to pass the time. Vardo lent me a book he had, "Bulgarian for English speakers". I read it a few hours a day, but there is only so much studying you can do especially without sufficient paper to practice on.

We had roaches. Not just a few roaches. A complete colony, probably few colonies. They were around all day long. We tried to entertain ourselves by killing them, but you can only kill so many before you get bored. If we had spring loaded suction cup dart guns it would have been more fun. We killed flies in that manner when I was young. I even thought about setting up roach races. But they never go in a straight line and we had nothing to bet.

Above the door was a fence type grill and behind it a light bulb. The roaches seemed to like this area and had a pattern worked out. Across the top and bottom was a small gap. The top was for moving to the right, and the bottom was moving to the left. They were like a non stop train going back and forth. At night I would count them instead of sheep to try to sleep. The first night I asked about the light. Can we turn it off somehow? Does it go off at a certain time? No, it stays on 24 hours a day. At night the roaches would crawl on us and we often woke up to flick them somewhere else.

That night just as we got to sleep, we heard a lot of noise in the hallway. The guards were performing room searches for disallowed items. They eventually came to our room, and made us remove everything, strip down the beds and put it in the hallway. Then they went through it and we were allowed back. Frustrating, but they were polite. They saw our deck of cards and said that they were not allowed. But then the guard smiled and said "No worries. They are harmless, I won't tell anyone".

Thu Oct 15

Today was my first court appearance. About 730am they woke me up and told me to get ready. I quickly brushed my teeth and dressed. I put on three shirts. They returned in 15 minutes to take me. I asked for a jacket, but they said there were none. They put us in the back of a small truck and took us to the basement of the court house, about 30 minutes drive. In the basement are holding cells that are about 6 sq meters (70 sq feet) with small table and two benches. There is a window high up that is open. They put in 4-10 people in each one. We have to wait there all day for our court hearing, and afterward we are returned there until about 4pm. Then we return to the prison. This day it was very cold, and even snowed. The heat was not on and the room was quite cold. I was freezing and shivering. One of the other prisoners gave me his jacked to wear for the day. I asked him what he did. He told me "It is something so bad and not for speaking". He spoke a tiny bit of English.

Of course, they all smoked all day long. They offered me cigarettes and gum. I took a piece of gum. Even here, everyone shared what they had. Even a jacket, which really amazed me.

At 2pm they took me upstairs to the court room. I was very worried that I had no lawyer, but the inmates downstairs told me just to object that I had no lawyer and they could not proceed. We waited a few minutes and at 215 my attorney arrived and I met him for the first time. We had no time to talk and went straight before the judge. After he objected, she gave us a 5 minute break to discuss. When the hearing started, my lawyer objected immediately, and the judge asked why. She said all the documents were in order, and that they would extradite me. My lawyer requested a 3 day break to allow him to research more. This is a normal time in Bulgaria. She refused, but rescheduled it for tomorrow. My lawyer objected that he still would not have time to speak with me because visiting hours at the prison were only until 5, and I would not return in time. The prosecutor said he would make a call to the head of the prison and allow a special visitation tonight.

We reached the prison about 430. My roommates had saved me lunch. The guards collect the bowls and spoons about an hour after they deliver them, but my roommates over their time have collected old plastic containers and used that to save me some lunch.

That night the lawyer did not reach the prison.

Fri Oct 16

Today we returned to the court. Today I wore all five shirts, and two pairs of socks. It was a bit warmer today. The other inmates were gathering cigarette butts from the floor. I only later learned why. They take out the little bit of tobacco to collect it. They then roll new cigarettes using normal paper.

My hearing was scheduled at 1030, but they took me upstairs around 1130. Fortunately I have some very good friends in Bulgaria who live about 90 minutes away from Sofia. They had learned that I was detained and came to the hearing. I only had a chance to say hello, but it was wonderful to know at least someone knew what was going on and could help.

My lawyer requested a break to speak with me as he could not make it to the prison yesterday. She asked why, and it turns out the prosecutor did not call the prison, and also did not answer his phone when my lawyer called. She granted us 30 minutes.

I knew the extradition treaty. I'm a person who prepares for every possibility. I knew that some day this was a very far fetched possibility. I quickly informed the attorney of the clause requiring the charge to be both criminal, and punishable by more than one year in both countries. Bulgaria like most countries is civil law, not common. This means most family issues are civil, not criminal.

The judge returned. My lawyer had a book with the treaty and extradition law. He immediately objected that:

• The prosecutor did not state which crime was equivalent in Bulgaria. This is required to prove it would be criminal and punishable by more than 1 year in prison.
• The documents were not originals, but only copies.
• The documents were not in Bulgarian as required.

The judge had been ready to send me on English documents she could not even read. A new hearing was scheduled for the next Tuesday.

I was returned to the basement until 330pm, and then we returned and reached the prison about 4pm. My roommates saved me lunch again. I ate, we played chess, and I started taking notes that I'm using for this document. I wanted to record everything while it was still very fresh in my mind.

Of all the food items I missed, it was hot tea. The room was always cold. In Bulgaria they use central heat, and the city had not turned on the heat yet. I thought of all kinds of ways to make tea. While in the basement, one inmate told me that they make tea with two cans, one for the stove, one for the tea and burn paper. But he says it takes a lot of paper and they only get it warm. Just about then, I smashed a medium size roach and he exploded everywhere. These roaches are not that big, but they are loaded with fat. I thought that if I squished enough, I bet that fat would make a nice fuel to make hot water for tea. I didn't have any cans though to try it out.

I snore. I know that, its not news to me. Vardo asked me to sleep only on my side, because when I was on my back I snored very loud. But Nikolai said I should sleep on my back, because it scares all the roaches away.

Dinner arrived at the usual 5pm. I quickly learned that while they do cook the food, by the time we get it, it is luke warm at best and usually cold.

Sat Oct 17

I slept till 11am. Once you are able to sleep, you try to sleep as long as you can. There is nothing to do when you wake up.

The others played a game for two a lot, hours a day. I think it was bridge, although it looked like some kind of card fight to me. I used to play Rummy when I was younger. Yesterday while waiting in the courthouse basement, I thought about Rummy all day. The card deck consisted of cards from many decks. There were many duplicates and even missing cards. For whatever game they normally played it didn't matter. We had to sort out the cards, and use a pen to modify some cards to be others. Finally we had a full proper deck. I finally remembered more or less how to play it. We had to play a few rounds before it all came back. We played Rummy for a few hours.

Today I started pacing in the small space we had so my legs would not cramp. Vardo did it for a few hours each day. You could walk 2 meters (6 ft) from the door to the table, turn around and repeat. I did it for 2 hours today and also started doing push ups, and stretches.

Today was delivery day for packages delivered by families. I don't remember whose arrived today, but it came with cookies, chocolate, bananas, oranges, cucumbers, tomatoes, and kielbasas. I never asked for anything, but they shared it equally. Each day they would take a little bit after dinner, or in the late evening and we would eat kielbasa with bread, or make a salad.

Today Vardo asked the guards for some warm water. They let him run down the hall to the showers and fill up a bottle with warm water. We had warm coffee. I do not like coffee. I just don't like the taste at all. But it was warm, so I added some sugar and drank some.

On Saturdays the dinner is half a bowl of cabbage salad, and fish. But not fish as you might expect. Its was whole smoked fish, partially cleaned, and then chopped into pieces about an 3 cm long (1 inch). Today I got the head, so I had very little meat.

Vardo had a radio, but batteries were a problem. Using the aluminum foil from the cigarette packs he made wires. He would then tape batteries together with cardboard and adhesive from food packaging to increase the voltage. 6 weak batteries instead of 2 good ones, and the radio would work.

I studied more Bulgarian again, and looked at the Bulgarian newspapers and tabloids that arrived. I could read enough to get the general ideas of articles, but it still didn't make it very interesting.

Vardo told me a story that during the older days in his village the garbage truck once a week would come and everyone had to bring their trash out. To notify people the truck was coming, it would ring a bell. He had some friends that moved to Canada, and every time and ice cream truck came by, felt compelled to take the trash out.

Vardo had a Russian book, The Count of Monte Cristo Vol 2. I tried to read it, and got to about page 50. But it uses quite a few larger Russian words, and I only understood about 25% of them. I understood the story enough to page 50, but it just became too tedious to read without a Russian-English dictionary.

The guards were interested to have an American in the prison. They started calling me jokingly "Talibani". Because what else would the Americans go through so much trouble to detain someone for? My roommates tried to explain to them what I was being held for, but the guards could not believe it.

Sun Oct 18

Two more bags arrived today with more food and Bulgarian magazines. We ate quite well this day.

Mon Oct 19

I expected to see my lawyer today because the hearing was scheduled for the next day. The lawyer did not visit today. I'm not very good at chess, so I suggested Backgammon. We played with rules and starting positions the best I remembered. But I must have remembered incorrectly, because the game lasted for hours. Dice are not allowed, just as cards. The dice were obviously self made. They were hard like rocks, and looked like they had been carved from bone. I asked Vardo, and he said "Bread". If you wet the bread and compressed it, it became like glue. If you let it dry, it became hard like epoxy. I found out that the bread was also used to hang cut outs from the tabloids on the wall, and many other uses. I think it may have been used for dental fillings as well. I considered taking up the hobby of bread sculpture, but I'm not artistically gifted. Although the handcuff keys don't look that complex.....

Tue Oct 20

Today is supposed to be a court hearing. But the guards to not come for me in the morning. And in this place, no one knows anything, and so no one tells you anything. It could be tomorrow, or a year. I only have scraps of paper to write on. Ivitca gives me paper as I ask, but I cannot ask him for too many sheets. There is absolutely no way to communicate to people on the outside unless you have a lawyer that visits and you give him messages to pass on.

Today Kimberly Atkinson from Citizen Services at the Embassy visits. She says she is here to inform me that my passport has been revoked brings an official letter. This is the American strategy when they think someone will not be extradited. Cancel their passport, inform the host country the passport is now invalid, and have the person deported. With no passport, people can only go one place. Back to wherever they have citizenship. She says "but you don't seem surprised. You expected this didn't you?"

Of course I did. In fact I entered Bulgaria on a different passport. Because of this I will not be deported. I did not enter Bulgaria on a different passport for this reason though. I had no idea that I was wanted by Interpol. Several times the Embassy accused me of using my second passport to avoid Interpol. However if I knew I was on Interpol, why would I have used my American passport to check into the hotel? Kimberly was not the one who accused me of this, and I've forgotten who it was.

I tell her that mentally I'm fine, but the conditions are very bad and I'm getting sick from the smoke. I also need a blanket, toilet paper, towel, sweater, and reading materials.

Kimberly asks me if I want to speak to the local FBI agent about the situation. I decided it wouldn't hurt, and besides it will get me out of the room for 45 minutes. If it gets me out of the room I'll accept visits from mimes.

Tuesday is shower day for our room. Once per week the four of us are locked in a room with two showers and two sinks. I have a beard that grows at a rapid pace, so shaving once a week is useless. Because of this I went straight to the shower while the others shaved. The hot water in the shower only lasted about 5 minutes and I was the only one who got any of the hot water. I don't have a towel or soap. Vardo lets me use his bottle of shower gel. I do have a scrubbie though! We are given about an hour, so I shower first and drip dry. Showers are also the only times you can shave or clip your nails, because razors and nail clippers are not allowed in the room.

Wed Oct 21

Kimberly and the FBI (Pauline?) agent visited today. I knew the evidence against me was false. But my past experience led me to believe going back would be a bad idea. I know that the FBI lady cannot give me her opinion, but I push her a bit. "Do you think I'll get a fair trial? I'm not asking you to predict an outcome, only do you think the judge will look at the situation?". I also asked about a jury trial, how I would be transported, how long the court process would take, etc. I decide to go back to the US and sort this out.

At the end, the FBI lady asks me very politely about the Pakistan, Saudi and other stamps in my passport. "Is there anything we should know about?". I said no, that all that was business for Microsoft. "Are you sure they won't find anything?". I said I'm sure. I don't believe that she personally was trying to suggest anything. But now other events have me concerned that others will attempt to use this as part of a character assassination at a later date, or worse yet accuse me of something worse in an effort to extradite me from Bulgaria. One of Nancy's lawyers paraded this blog post in court in 2004. Her lawyer tried to paint me as a law evader based on the second to last sentence of the first paragraph. With a passport like mine... one wonders what they might try to say.

Kimberly brings me a Bible, a prayer book, a vitamin journal, and an old Entertainment Weekly. She also brought a sweater, a blanket, and two rolls of toilet paper. At least it was something to read. I read the Entertainment Weekly front to back, including the fine print in the ads. Magazines are good, because they have dual use. After you read them, they are useful as toilet paper.

Thu Oct 22

Each day we are allowed to go walking on the roof. I had a vision of a roof with a high chain link fence and guards. We could walk about freely, see the city and stretch our legs. It turned cold and the first few days I declined to go because I had no jacket and could only layer my shirts and "pillow case" (my 5th shirt). Today it turned a bit warmer so I went for a "walk". They handcuffed us and we walked up the stairs to the roof. But it was not the roof. It was the top floor where they put the three of us (Ivitca never went walking) in a room a little smaller than our own room. The only difference it that it as empty except for a small bench on one wall, and it had a hole in the roof for about 2/3rds of it. The only way to walk was to walk in small circles. You could not see anything except for straight up into the sky.

There are several of these "walking" rooms. You can yell over the top to "walking" neighbors. Vardo has been here for more than a year and knows most of the other inmates. He and Nikolai have a conversation by shouting at the hole in the roof. There is also a small  hole in the base of the wall that connects the two rooms for drainage purposes. Through this they sell our neighbor a few cigarettes.

Vardo's radio batteries have finally gotten too weak to power his radio. Nikolai and Ivitca have one though. Unfortunately they listen to one of the most annoying channels I have ever heard in my life. Radio Veronica. This is not to be confused with another Radio Veronica in Bulgaria that plays some kind of modern Bulgarian Folk Music derivative. This Radio Veronica plays an annoying mix of mostly English, and some Bulgarian dance mix. But the most annoying part is that they only seem to have 15 songs. And each hour, on the mark, they repeat it. It also seems to be commercial free. I would have loved a break from the "music" with a commercial. Or were there commercials and my brain had just been lulled into a numbing stupor? Vardo dislikes it to, and describes it as "chuka chuka chuka".

Thu Oct 22

Today the lawyer visited me. He was not able to bring the translator, but he speaks a bit of Russian. Through basic Russian we are able to communicate. He shows me through the plexiglass several printed e-mails from my family and allows me to write some responses which he scans and faxes back to them and my US lawyers. One note was to my Federal Lawyer in the US. I told him I planned to come back and that if he felt I was better to stay in Bulgaria, he should let me know ASAP.

Shortly after I returned to my room, the guards came for me again. Today Deborah Ash from the Embassy came and brought me four books of the type I said I liked. One is a large hardback novel. American Embassies have no budget for prisoners, and must rely on donations. Some of the items Deborah gave herself I'm sure and I appreciate the effort. Most other Embassies in the world have budgets for at least toilet paper and the like. The Americans though are too busy spending money in Iraq, and spending millions (yes, they are spending millions against me...) of dollars extraditing people on false information. The Swiss Embassy visits its citizens every week, and brings reading materials and other items. But of course the Swiss have a lot to admire beyond how they treat their citizens.

I don't remember which day the City of Sofia turned on the heat. In countries like Bulgaria, events are announced on the radio and we heard it. It was Thursday or Friday. I asked Vardo why it was not getting warmer. He replied that the large radiator in the corner of our room is "only for advertisement". I thought he was joking, but he was not. He spent all last winter in this prison, in a room on the north side. He said its worse there because you don't even get the sun. He was later moved to our southern facing room. In Bulgaria it regularly reaches -20 in the winter, sometimes colder. He said that there is heat on the first floor, but by the time the water reaches the fourth floor its cold. He said the room temperature last year was about 5 degrees Celsius (less than 40 degrees Fahrenheit) all winter.

Fri Oct 23

Deborah Ash visited again. She asked the guards if I could call one of my lawyers in the US. We talked in the head guard's office. She had arranged a time with the US lawyer for me to call. We called using her cell phone. As I understood the situation, the FBI would continue to persist in extraditing me and that even if I came back voluntarily, they were interested in a conviction rather than looking at the case or the complete set of issues. As a lawyer, he could not tell me to stay in Bulgaria or to return to the US. But based on this, and statements the FBI had made to my parents earlier, I felt it was much better to remain in Bulgaria and exercise my legal rights against the extradition.

I informed Deborah that I had decided to no longer return voluntarily. Deborah I understand is a strong Christian person and has helped me the best she could within her limits. This was the last Embassy visit from anyone though, and I suspect that after this they told her to cut contact to minimum required. Possibly she was even reprimanded for facilitating the call to my US Lawyer. I suspected this much, but later after I was released and the FBI threatened friends of ours, and tried to kidnap my son from a foreign country, I became convinced of this.

Vardo is sick of Radio Veronica too. He takes the chess board, and lines up 4 rows of 13 batteries and wires them together. 52 batteries. The radio works again! No more Radio Veronica!

Sat Oct 24

Vardo's radio stops working again. He reconfigures the batteries in 9 rows of 6 each. The radio works again.

Because on Tuesday there was a problem with the hot water in the shower, the guards let us into the shower room again. However, again there is no hot water. On most days, we shower over the toilet using several filled 2 liter water bottles warmed up to room temperature. One person hangs over the toilet, and another pours. Thats also how we do laundry. Over the toilet, or if we have time in the shower.

I'm quickly losing weight. Which is not a bad things to a certain point. Vardo tells me that when he entered the prison just over a year ago, he was 100 kg (230 lbs). He is now 70 kg (160 lbs). He also tells me a story of a Germany guy who was accused of something to do with a large quantity of drugs. He was huge, 150 kg (335 lbs) and lost weight in the months he was in the prison. However since they do not supply you with clothes, and the take your belt, he had to constantly walk around hold his pants up. Some prisoners made makeshift belts and shoelaces from plastic bags, but this only works in less extreme cases.

In the evening Vardo exchanges a few cigarettes to a guard for a run to get some warm water from the shower. We used the peel from an orange we split to make orange peel tea in an old water bottle.

Sun Oct 25

Today was a real surprise. In one of the printed emails relayed to me by Deborah, my brother mentions that he or one of my sisters might come to Bulgaria to try to help. I assume that this may occur in a few weeks. But today my sister Hillary appears with one of my good friends from Bulgaria, Hristo. The Embassy told her not to come to Bulgaria, that there was nothing she could do. Fortunately she ignored them, and was persistent enough to pester the guards until the let her visit me. I find out that there was a hearing scheduled for last Tuesday, but that an appeal was filed and its been moved to this Tuesday. She also has found another, high profile lawyer to take the case. The lawyer has not committed yet, but she will know tomorrow. She promises to visit again tomorrow, even though she is staying a 90 minute drive away.

Vardo's batteries have died again. Old batteries for some reason the guards collect even though we have a trash bag that we can give to the guards each Sunday. One of the guards gives Vardo 4 old C (the larger ones) batteries because they know he rigs up the old batteries. He rigs them up together, and the radio again works. Die Radio Veronica die!

Mon Oct 26

No one visits today, and I have no idea if the new lawyer has agreed to represent me. I found out later, this is because family is only allowed to visit two times a month. My sister arrived on the wrong weekend for family visits, but the guards made an exception yesterday, but cannot do it again. Although even in their denial, she says they were friendly and tried to help the best they could. Whatever I've said bad about this prison, I won't say anything bad about the guards. I've complained to the Embassy about this place, they offered to take it up with the management. But that won't help, the management isn't the issue. I've lived in enough countries to know whats going on. Someone up top is skimming money off, combined with not enough money being allocated. Management does the best they can with what they have.

I've been getting funny responses in Bulgaria when people ask me questions. I usually understand what they are saying, but out of habit I shake my head yes or no, even though I know the Bulgarian words for yes and no. People keep getting confused, and today I understand why. Up and down means no, and side to side means yes. Opposite most of the rest of the world. I had long ago heard there was some place like this, but always imagined it to be some far flung isolated mountain country. It turns out it is Bulgaria.

Today the guards came to the room and looked at everyones bed, and took one of my blankets. We are only allowed to have three. I only had three, and now I have two plus a small one given to me by the Embassy. I'm quite pissed off though, because I'm the only one without a extra cushion and that blanket I had folded up and stuffed into holes in the center of the bed where its broken.

Tue Oct 27

Today is the next trial. There are three judges, and its an appeals court. The new lawyer is there, as is the previous one. In Bulgaria you are allowed to appoint up to three. The lawyers argue that the facts stated are impossible and show evidence to demonstrate this. They also argue the previous points, but most importantly they argue that I should not be detained. I was detained on the charge of kidnapping, when I could not have kidnapped anyone. The judges recess, and after returning agree. However the treaty does not allow them to look at any evidence at all, they can only decide to extradite me or not. But they agree that the local charge of kidnapping is too harsh and agree to allow me to stay in Bulgaria on a lesser charge. I promise not to leave Bulgaria until the next hearing. I am now allowed to go to stay with friends.

I still have to go back to the prison first. On the way back some idiot among the bunch pisses of one of the guards and they shove eight of us in the back of a van. Six would be crowded. I'm last in, and have to half stand while handcuffed to another person.

We arrive back and I start to give away the few items I have. The book I read, The Bible, a sweater, toilet paper, blanket, etc. Vardo has a fleece with Switzerland on it. He knows how much I love Switzerland and he gives it to me. I really appreciated the give. I would never have asked him for it or anything, especially because I am being released and he is still there. About an hour later the guards come for me and release me.

I walked out of the building and facility to find my sister and Hristo waiting for me. I was shaking from malnutrition so we head to get some hot tea and let me settle down.

Additional Notes

I told the judge about the prison. I told the lawyers. Everyone responds "everyone knows". If that is the case, that must mean "no one cares". The lawyer told me that there are already several cases filed at the European Court of Human Rights against this facility.

Vardo has been to Russian prison before, and they all evidently know what a normal Bulgarian prison is like. You can walk around, there is a common TV. Three meals a day. Outdoor time. They all dream to go to prison. How bad must a place be when people dream to go to a prison? Ivitca was in a prison in Serbia for 6 years and he showed me pictures. Even by American standards it seemed a dream. He go to go home on weekends. He had a TV, DVD player and microwave in his room. It wasn't luxury, but it certainly looked reasonably comfortable albeit still boring. How can Serbia provide such things and an EU country like Bulgaria treat people worse that most countries treat pound animals?

After my release I found out that there is a new detention center and that I was in the old one. I have no idea what it is like, but it certainly must be better. Why did the Embassy make no request for me to be placed there or moved? Is it yet more intimidation? Were they instructed to let me stew there so that I might consider going voluntarily to the US just to get out of such a place? I don't know. But I suspect if I was Swiss, German, or Canadian I would have been placed elsewhere, moved, or released on home arrest to a hotel. Possibly the new center was full, but there was no effort by The American Embassy to complain about the conditions aside from raising it with management, who is powerless to do anything.

Nikolai had several large swastikas tattooed on him. The first time I saw them it worried me. I can only assume that when he was younger he may have been a skinhead. I estimate he was only 25 now, but he showed no signs of aggression or hate while in the prison. He made a few jokes about a black prisoner from Africa, but didn't seem hateful to him. In fact I found Nikolai to be extremely kind for a person of his age. I guess people change. He also had a creative way to work out. He built dumb bells by filling several water bottles and binding them together with plastic bags.

Vardo faked some bank documents because his mother needed money. About 30,000 Euros worth. Nikolai robbed a professor's house and cleaned him out. Ivitca was accused of shooting a police officer. However he had security camera footage from various stores showing him clearly in a city over an hour away..

Vardo has been in the prison for more than a year. Ivitca for about 2 months, and Nikolai for 3 months. They told me I had the lucky bed, because I was the sixth person to come and go in the last 3 months. The point I want to make is that the conditions in this prison are not humane. Whatever you think of violent criminals, none of my roommates were accused of violent crimes, yet our conditions were worse than many violent offenders receive. This is also a facility designed for very short term detention, yet most people spend several months in these conditions. This is also a detention center, it is for people accused of a crime, not convicted. If people are innocent until proven guilty, and especially for non violent ones. How can such a harsh treatment be justified?

People say that criminals will always say "I didn't do it". Maybe thats the case when they are caught, or even in court. But among other prisoners it was not that way. The ones I met clearly said they did it, or they didn't. While waiting for various court hearings in the basement, I had a chance to talk to many of them in half Bulgarian, half Russian. Given that these are just accused people, I estimate that about 30% of them are probably innocent.

Thu Nov 12

Around 6:00pm the police showed up to arrest me again. They had no idea what for, they only had papers from Sofia instructing them to arrest me again for "International Parental Kidnapping". The said that I was being detained for 72 hours and asked me to gather my "main things". Knowing the likely conditions, I went through my items and packed everything possible except for items I knew they would not allow in a cell. I also packed a radio, batteries, toilet paper, cucumbers, tomatoes, cookies, and several kilograms (a few pounds) of other food on hand. The police were polite and waited for 30 minutes while I packed. About 6:30pm we left and they took me in a car to a detention center in Plovdiv.

One thing was immediately obvious, this detention center was in much better shape and newer than the one I had previously been detained in at Sofia. I went through the intake procedure again. The officer spoke no English, but slowly spoke some Russian. He took my radio and said that I would receive it after they were able to check it.

After some time I was taken to cell 218 on the second floor. The room was very different. The room was 12.5 sq meters (135 square ft) and there were only two beds. It was about the size of a hotel room.

It was another room dedicated for foreigners and there was one person in it already. He spoke only Bulgarian. By this time my Bulgarian had become very basic, and many Bulgarian nouns are very similar to Russian. I also remembered a bit of Turkish from when I lived in Turkey. Speaking TurBulRuski, he and I were able to communicate basic ideas. He was Turkish and hie name was Feda. He was 50 years old was married to a Bulgarian woman. He had been in this facility for 20 days now. I was never able to understand what he was accused of. Feda smoked, but not continuously. The room also had very high ceilings, and a window which opened enough to allow fresh air. Because of this, his smoking did not bother me.

Many of the details I will describe may seen minute. However they are in great contrast to the Sofia detention center, and collectively constituted at least a more humane way to detain accused people. The window was huge, and transparent. It was high up, but you could see the sky, birds, and stars. If you stood on the bed, you could see trees and other buildings. It was also double paned, so when closed it insulated well from the cold weather. There were hooks to hang and dry clothing. Each bed had a locker underneath it for personal belongings, and there was a shelf near the sink. None of these basic items existed in Sofia.

The table was of adequate size to allow two people to eat, and there were two stools. The stools were circular again, but large enough that you could actually sit on them with both butt cheeks. as opposed to Sofia where the single stool was tiny and only appropriate for a small child. The room had sufficient room to move around. The room had heat, and there were no roaches.

The beds had mattresses. They were not luxurious, nor even what I would call comfortable. But they were about 8 cm (3 inches) thick and tolerable. This was very welcome, because even weeks later I still had sores on both sides of my body from the bed in Sofia. They even gave me a pillow case, although I had brought my own pillow and case having expected the same conditions as Sofia.

The bathroom area contained a pit style toilet, and it was right in front of the sink. To use the sink, you had to straddle the toilet. There was no mechanism to flush the toilet, so we had to fill a bucket from the sink, and then dump it into the hole. In the mornings, warm water was turned on for about an hour and you could wash up. Feda left on the hot water tap at night, and in the morning when it came on it would wake us up. It was not hot, but was lukewarm and made washing clothes and ourselves a lot easier than having to use freezing cold water, or room temperature water in bottles. There was a mirror, and we were allowed nail clippers, disposable razors and other items that were prohibited in Sofia. We were also allowed to keep our belt, and shoe laces.

The room contained a fluorescent light on the ceiling which provided much better lighting. This was great for reading late at night, but made sleeping more difficult as it was left on 24 hours as well. I was not able to understand from Feda how often family was allowed to visit, but it seemed that it was more frequent than in Sofia.

On the wall was a 12 volt socket (like a car cigarette lighter) and an antenna jack. I asked Feda if it worked, and he said yes. His wife would bring him a TV on Monday. TVs and other small appliances were allowed. There was no clock, so it was very hard to know what time it was other than by the amount of sunlight outside.

I had not eaten dinner, and evidently I arrived after it was served in the detention center. Some of the food I brought was perishable, so I decide that it should be eaten first. I ate snezhanka salad. I offered Feda some of my food, and he chose a large container (250 ml, 16 oz) of yogurt that I had. He seemed hesitant at first, but he easily downed the yogurt in just a few seconds. He seemed very pleased and thanked me profusely. He said that was the first yogurt he had in almost a month.

Being in prison, you have a lot of time to think and notice small details. I noticed the pants I bought last week were from a store called "New York". The tag on my pants read this, as well as their brand. The brand name was SMOG. How fitting. I read for a bit, and finally went to sleep. The night passed very slowly. I felt like I slept for a very long time. Each time I woke up I thought that it would be very late morning, but it was still dark.

Fri Nov 13

The door had a small door in it that the guards could open to give us messages, and serve food. It opened and closed silently. This was actually very welcome, because in Sofia to open the doors required a lot of locks and bars to be moved around, and it was very loud. If the guards opened your door, or even any door near you it woke up everyone. Breakfast arrived, and was a quarter loaf of bread and 50 grams (2 oz) of salty cheese. I shared more food with Feda, and he shared some yellow cheese that he had. From my stock of food, we had bread (my bread was better than the stuff from the prison), cream cheese, bananas, and bean salad.

Without a clock, its very hard to tell what time it is. I did not even know what time we woke up. I hoped that soon the radio would arrive, so we would have music, news and time.

The guard came and took me to see the doctor. The doctor spoke good Russian and did a basic check up. I saw from his watch that it was 10:00 am. The guard took me back to room 118, which was wrong, and then to the proper room, 218. This guard spoke a little Russian and asked me why I was here. I tried to explain it, but his Russian was not advanced enough to understand what I told him.

When I returned, Feda said that I if I saw a doctor, that I would be staying here and not going to Sofia. At this point, I had no idea what was going on. The initial detainment was only for 72 hours, which means that I would be released Sunday evening, or detained further. But today was Friday, so anything that would occur had to happen today. Would they have hearing without me? The case was in Sofia, and I was 90 minutes away in Plovdiv. The courts usually finish about 4pm, so if they were going to move me it had to be soon.

I settled in for a bit and talked with Feda more. I was very interested in the conditions in this facility. I had seen fenced in areas so I asked if we were allowed outside at any time. He said only on the roof in a small room (like Sofia) for an hour a day around 2pm.

Around 11:00 am the guard came and told me to get ready, I was being transferred to Sofia. I quickly packed my items and left a few food items with Feda.

To be continued.....

Pending Civil Suit

I am working with a civil lawyer to file a case against the Bulgarian government. The lawyer says that I am almost guaranteed to win. I'm not suing for money, but likely will receive a settlement. It won't be large, but should just about cover the costs of hiring a lawyer to file it.

I'm not filing it for the money. I'm filing it to raise awareness of this problem which hopefully will lead to change. I've also asked the lawyer to include my roommates in the suit and hopefully their conditions can be improved or they can be relocated. Civil law countries such as Bulgaria don't really have the American concept of a class action law suit. But I hope I can start something that will avalanche and allow others at the facility to file their own suits, maybe even with some seed money from my settlement.

After this suit, I will file another complaint with the European Court of Human Rights.

I could just walk away. But to me that is like seeing someone being attacked on the street and just walking by. It's not right. I'm very tight on money and need all available money for my US legal expenses, but I have to at least start the process in Bulgaria.

Could it be worse?

Sure. Google "Bulgarian Prison" and you will turn up some horror stories. Here are a few highlights:

• Prisons in Bulgaria fail to meet human rights requirements - "A prison has not been built in the country since the 1920s and this alone is proof that the situation is bad. There are some cases where 12 people are sharing one prison cell meant for four people, which is unacceptable."
• Mother's agony at son's Bulgarian jail plight
• The problem of being a foreigner in a Bulgarian Prison
• Canadian in Bulgarian prison ignored by Grits - "It might not be death row drudgery in Montana or the leg-ironed lifestyle of an Afghanistan incarceration, but a dozen years in a Bulgarian prison is a cruel life sentence, especially for a former Canadian millionaire jailed on a questionable conviction."
  

Then do yourself a favor and Google "American Prisons". Not so rosy either.....

What Now?

I'm still waiting in Bulgaria for up to 40 days. At the next hearing, by Bulgarian law I should be released. However since the FBI has already used false evidence, what will be the final charges from the Americans? Will I be accused of terrorism? Throwing a shoe at the president? Who knows. They are taking a long time sending the final documents, probably on purpose to make me stay here as long as they can.

Translations

We are currently translating this page into Bulgarian. Later we might translate it into Russian and other languages. I am looking for someone who speaks Bullshittian. I need to translate it into Bullshittian so that everyone can read it.