letter #4 from UP3



March 2018, JVA Cologne

Had I known that we would have to stay in prison for more than 8 weeks since the beginning, I would have probably have given my ID. But now I’m glad I didn’t. It taught me a whole bunch of things, for example:

How to make origamis.

How to use an old margarine container and a heater to heat stuff up.

How to transform an old plastic bag in a 2-meters long resistant string.

How wash a milky soup to transform it into a kind-of-vegan salad.

How many times you can reuse tape before it doesn’t stick anymore.

That margarine is actually a really good grease to take care of your shoes.

That I am freaking lucky to speak the language of the guards, to be able to write and read.

That being here for me is easy because I am healthy, don't have addictions and I’m not pregnant, and I don’t have half a dozen of small children who are now taking care of by a person I don’t even know.

And of course that I am going to do my best to support all prisoners because no one should be kept in here.

Especially not poor analphabet women from other countries who have five children at home. Here they are only allowed to call their families once a month and some are denied the German lesson for no obvious reason. Their lawyers often don’t speak their languages.

It makes me so sad, it makes me so angry. It gives me strength to fight I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t seen it.

Love and rage for the wild,


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