Well, after a month or so of not writing much I thought I’d get back to it. I had some useful feedback from a friend, that some of my writing read as arrogant and condescending so that prompted me to take a step back, pause, and think about how I view myself here in relation to other people. I think I understand things a bit better now, and while I can’t say that I’ve fully conquered that demon, I’m at least trying to keep it in mind as I go through each day.

So, how do I fit into the social scene here in prison? The term “culture shock” leaps to mind. I was definitely not used to being in an environment like this: where people are grumpy, defensive and easily provoked; where retaliation is the default response; where it feels as if kindness is considered a weakness; and where people are quick to create “us and them” dynamics. Worst of all, all of the above applies to the staff as much as to the inmates. And all of this in a physical set-up where it’s almost impossible to have a conversation that won’t be over-heard by others. What’s more, conversations tend to be shallow, boring, repetitive and one-sided.

For me, all this feels very odd, often cold, and almost always soulless…a million miles away from the kinds of environments that I usually spend time in. I’ll attempt to break it down a bit more…

The general atmosphere has often been one of fragile tension, like walking a tightrope that’s part of a spider’s web, although I’ve noticed that in the last couple of weeks it hasn’t bothered me as much. Many people here, I’m guessing, come from communities where you have to assert your physical dominance in order to avoid being walked over, taken advantage of or physically harmed. There’s a lot of physical posturing that goes on – people squaring up to each other in the hall…almost bumping chests. I picture it like the beaches that you see on nature documentaries- the ones that are covered in walruses, all jostling for dominance. Sometimes I feel like I’m the wee penguin going about his own business, pitter-pattering happily in amongst the walruses, and barely managing to avoid getting squashed.

There’s a huge emphasis placed on “saving face” – not allowing others to make you look less dominant than them. Threats can be hurled across the hall just because someone looked at someone else. (Read my precious post “A Poem”, and you’ll get the gist). Sometimes it’s in the hall, sometimes out in the Astroturf pitch, and sometimes it’s shouted out of the windows, from one cell to another, a battle of obscenities between two or more people who can’t even see each other:

“Stop shouting, ya fucking dick!”

“You stop shouting ya cunt!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

….bla – bla – bla…

One of the guys that I get on with the best fell out with his main social circle here over something… I can’t remember what exactly but it was something as petty as an insult made in jest, which hit a nerve, leading to a big ramp-up of anger and a series of aggressive exchanges over the days that followed. I don’t even think they know what it was originally about anymore.

So that’s the kind of tension that hangs in the air. I’m really glad that it’s never directed at me…maybe I should be offended that I’m not perceived as a threat to anyone’s place in the pecking order?…but all in all I think I’m happy with that trade-off.

Then there’s the general lack of kindness, which was demonstrated perfectly in a number of conversations that I had with people in the initial stages of the Coronavirus outbreak: Conversations about my concerns for the safety of the older guys in our hall. “I don’t mind… maybe I’ll get a single cell out of it” one guy said.

Another inmate was complaining about his cell mate (a man in his seventies with underlying health conditions that make him particularly vulnerable), and said “I can’t believe he expects me to collect his dinner for him. Fucking bastard. I hope he catches it and dies.”

People will often slag others off behind their back. These are the conversations that I sometimes walk away from. But, equally often, I will put forward my perspective, which is that if someone is acting like a “bastard”, “cunt”, “dickhead”, or whatever, it’s usually because they are in a really bad place (stressed, sad, afraid), and aren’t able to control their anger… and because they are attempting to make themselves feel better by putting other people down. When I suggest these things, the response is always “naaa… he’s just a bastard.”

Then there’s the issue of the Crap Chat. I’ve never experienced what I’m about to describe to the extent that I experience it here: pretty much every conversation that I attempt to start very quickly either drops away to nothingness, or becomes a repetitive, negative, one-sided rant from the other person. (This is where I’m in grave danger of getting very condescending again…but what the heck; this is how it is, so here goes…). You know those usual things that happen in any normal conversation – taking it in turns to speak: listening to the other person: asking relevant questions: showing concern – these things are very rare in conversations here. It often feels really surreal, as if I’m having a video call with a huge time delay and my microphone turned off – people keep talking over me, and it’s as if that can’t hear what I’m saying. It happens again and again, with different people…with pretty much everyone in fact. It’s such a strange thing, and I’m still trying to work out what causes it. Having said all that, there are a few exceptions. I’ve had great chats with one lovely guy about local news articles in the newspaper that we pass under each other’s door, about a historical book that he’s been reading. Another guy has helped me with some of the queries that I come up with as I’m studying my computer software textbooks…and I had a few fab chats about cycling and camping in the hills near here, an area that I have yet to explore…but these little gems are few and far between.

On another wee positive note, there’s a guy here who I really admire. He’s a very long-term prisoner, so I think has reached a point of acceptance. He’s the kind of person who could walk through a rainstorm and not get wet. I’ve never seen him argue with anyone and have never heard him say a bad word about anyone. From my room I can often hear him singing or yawning and these have become some of my favourite sounds in the prison (I tried explaining this to him once, but I think it just sounded a bit weird :p)

I should probably finish with a quick check-in: I’m pleased (and surprised) to say that I still enjoying every day, and I’m never sad or bored (how could I be when there’s a whole world of garden design and bee-keeping to study?! – more on that another time too!…). That warden did unsettle me for 2 to 3 days and made me feel very angry but I learned to let his comments wash over me. Plus, more recently, he seems to have either got bored of trying to make me sad or he’s had a change of heart.

So…this afternoon I’m going to read about how to prevent bees from swarming… and then tonight my cell mate and I are watching the final “Lord of the Rings” film… And, as always, I will wake up tomorrow smiley and at peace, ready to enjoy a new day. These are not words that I ever thought I would find myself writing from inside these prison walls, but they do express how I feel.

Have fun out there in the spring-time lushness, everyone.