Game of silence, p.17
Game of Silence, page 17
“The stares of the cells’ residents staying outside at that time were all directed at me. Only later would I realize how fast rumors spread in prison.
“Shocked, I looked at the black layer of dirt which covered every part of the stainless steel sink and the counter next to it. I knew I was stepping into a very dangerous place, and at the same time also knew it would be a wise choice not to demonstrate my physical strength. It was clear to me that I was at the beginning of a chess game over my life. Over and above everything else, I had to understand the balance of power. Collect some intel. Buy defenses. Be prepared for an attack. All my years as a silent combat soldier trained me for this. But this war needed to be won without violence, otherwise I would never get to see the sun shining outside these walls.
“Without words, I placed my gear next to the entrance door and went straight to the kitchen. I opened the water tap, but no water came out. I looked to my right. On the floor in the corner there was a used, outdated scotch. I began trying to scrub the dirt with it, but with little success. It was literally like digging a tunnel with a teaspoon. The worn-out scotch polished only an iota of the dirt ocean around.
“After a few minutes a bloke named Vassili arrived. He asked me in English what I was doing. That’s what I was waiting for. I replied indifferently with half a smile: ‘I’m cleaning the kitchen.’
“He laughed in response and said: ‘Are you crazy?! You’ll never get it done.’
I stopped for a moment, placed my hand over the pen in my shirt, and for the first time implanted the idea which would accompany me from now on throughout my stay in prison. ‘When I say something – it is bound to happen!’ This I said to Vassili, and I added in English: ‘You will watch it happen, and you’ll be thrilled, excited and filled with inspiration.’ I smiled at him and continued scraping the top layer of the dirt in an impossible effort. And again – without much success.
“’Inspiration, inspiration’, Vassili laughed out loud, and to me it seemed he didn’t even understand the meaning of the word he managed to sample from what little I had said.
“To my surprise, about fifteen minutes later, that same Vassili came back holding a bottle of ‘sulphuric acid’ – an acid used to clean the bathroom. For me it was the first weapon. It was unbelievable to me that such a dangerous substance was roaming around freely in the wing. It only taught me how dangerous the place I was in, really was. I became even more alert, and from that moment on I kept eye contact and a reasonable distance from the bottle of acid, just in case.
“The acid changed the rules of the game for me. It enabled me, after two hours of scrubbing, which attracted the attention of the curious people in the wing, to magically present a clean and shiny kitchen in a manner worthy of awe. That same Vassili who laughed at me, and already spread the rumor about the crazy person cleaning the kitchen, now stood accompanied by a few of his Russian friends, excitedly explaining to them the idea I had implanted in him. He laughed and repeated the word ‘inspiration’ to them. I am not convinced they understood the words, but the demonstration was obvious.
“After the successful scrubbing of the kitchen I turned to look for my things. An invisible hand led me to turn around – it was Karl, an Austrian man who decided to take my things and put them in the room on the second floor. He shared this room with a more introverted character named Dimitri and with that Vassili guy, who didn’t stop telling about me to everyone.
“I walked after the Austrian, and while we were climbing the stairs, I felt I was dying of thirst. I hadn’t drunk all day, and the acid I poured didn’t help matters either. When I asked how I can get some water, they told me that the water in the taps flows continuously only from midnight to five in the morning, and that it is undrinkable. It is poisoned. So said everyone. Water can be bought at the canteen only on Monday mornings, they explained. The day was Monday night.
“The thirst drove me insane. They helped me and exchanged a packet of cigarettes for six bottles of water. I drank the first bottle of water all at once, and in my heart thanked my good fortune that allowed me the carton of cigarettes.
“I then began questioning my cellmates about all the people that were present in the wing at the time. I made an accurate record of all the room occupants, and wrote down everything I could extract from my new friends regarding the balance of powers between the various groups. The intel I collected made the balance of power in the wing quite clear. I realized that the most dangerous for me were the group of Georgian heroin dealers and the members of the Chechen Jihad. I realized that if I wish to guarantee my survival up to the trial, I needed protection. At the end of my investigation, I left the room without saying a word. Holding the five remaining bottles of water I walked to cell number 3, where five members of the Mongolian Judo team stayed.
“While walking to the room of the Mongolians, carrying the water bottles in both hands, the lyrics of a song which was quite popular of late, played in my head, ‘I bought me a friend named Diego, a few beers is all he took, he said it dissolves the ego, and on the bed he dropped…’ Only here, water was a valuable commodity, just like in the ‘Mad Max’ apocalyptic movies.
“When I walked into cell number 3, the members of the Mongolian team laid passed out on the bunks, some of which were void of a mattress, and they looked as if they were about to check out. They had no money for the canteen, they hadn’t had a drink of water for several days, and only the small charitable sips they were given, revived them temporarily. They were indifferent to my presence, up until the moment they saw the five bottles of water I was carrying. I gave each of them one bottle of water, and in the blink of an eye they each drank the entire content of their bottles. One could immediately see how life was returning to them as if they were touched by a magic wand. I sympathized with them. After all, I got to know the feeling only a few moments ago.
“Amazed at the stranger who came in with the water of life just a minute before life escaped them, caused their eyes to light up with gratitude. All except one – the shortest of them all called Casbata’an – none of whom knew a word of English. In broken-down English mixed with a great deal of Mongolian, Casbata’an explained to me that they had arrived for a training camp in Turkey ahead of the world Judo championships which was about to take place next month in Greece, and on their night off they had an unfortunate encounter with a bunch of drunken Turks, who mocked them and attacked them. No one knew they were detained here, their coach didn’t know where they had disappeared to, and the Mongolian Foreign Ministry was probably busy setting up Yurt encampments all around the deserts of Asia.
“’Now I am here,’ I said and Casbata’an translated to his friends, “and from this moment on, you will not be short of water.“ I continued to display full confidence, not knowing how I would be able to keep my word.
“When the Mongol finished translating what I had said to the Mongolian, I no longer needed his translation from Mongolian into English. His friends’ faces said it all. ‘But, in exchange for me worrying about your water,’ I explained after I saw their thankful looks, ‘one of you needs to be near me, about one meter away, at all times.’ They happily agreed, without hesitation. This is how I bought five very thankful bodyguards. None of whom was named Diego.
“I went back to my room. It was getting late, and I sought to find out about the story of the water. Vassili’s explanation was that the water in the taps was known to be poisoned because it is white. I remembered that according to the mapping I made with the help of my roommates, one of the inmates in the wing was an Iranian chemical engineer named Ibrahim Tahari. I immediately went to his room. I introduced myself, and asked for a moment of his time. He was most kind, and explained to me that the water wasn’t poisoned at all, and that ‘they were merely small bubbles of water, mixed with calcium, which was created by the water pressure and that they would disappear.’ Just as I thought.
“I went back to my cell and announced to all my new cellmates: ‘From now on, we will have a constant supply of water.’ That same Vassili laughed at me again in disbelief, and I only placed my hand on the pen in my collar and repeated my motto: ‘When I say something – it is bound to happen. You will see that it will, and you’ll be amazed, thrilled and filled with inspiration.’ My previous words echoed in his ears yet again, and again he burst into laughter and only said in skepticism bordering mockery: ‘Inspiration. Inspiration.’
“I remembered seeing under the stairs leading to the second floor, about one hundred empty water bottles. I made arrangements with the Mongol guys that at midnight they would help me wash and fill up the bottles. They gladly helped, but kept repeating they will not agree to drink the poisoned water. They were adamant. No one at the prison drank from it.
“The following morning I called everyone into the piazza, and announced that the water problem was solved. I did a demonstration for them: I showed them a bottle of water I filled the day before from the tap in which the water resting in it the entire night before, was now clear. My explanations in English accompanied by explanations in Russian of the Iranian engineer, merged in the mixture of other languages carried like an echo following my every sentence, were probably successful, as it seemed that they understood even though they were skeptical. They were horrified by the thought of drinking poisoned water. I looked at Ibrahim. We smiled at each other and then clinked our bottles in cheers and each of us demonstratively lifted the bottle to our mouths and drank the entire contents.
“Everyone observed in amazement. Probably waiting for one of us to drop dead. It didn’t happen. The water wasn’t poisoned, on the contrary, they were the product of aquifer water drawn from the Turkish shore bed – clear and clean.
“Now, that I have a treasure of one hundred bottles, and was well protected by Mongolia’s finest, I was in possession of a small fortune and I made sure to share it and provide water in abundance to all around me. I could see how my moves were beginning to impact my status.
“But I was still far from feeling relaxed. The danger hadn’t passed yet.
“On Friday morning, headlines from the “Antalya News” newspaper came to the prison. They screamed: “Attempt to hijack a plane? A Mossad agent? An Israeli citizen was captured at the airport in an attempt to smuggle a weapon onto the plane.’ At first, I became alert with concern, but very quickly I realized that the headlines would actually contribute to my reputation. However, having the attention focused on me could lead the two dangerous gangs to test me.
“That same Vassili, who already started believing I was a magician, tried to challenge me again. Before everyone he yelled: ‘let’s see you fix the light in here!’ and pointed at the fluorescent light. He did not neglect to repeat the mantra ‘inspiration, inspiration’ in a loud laugh.
“I looked at the ceiling. It had six fluorescent lights installed on it with one connecting wire. Only the first light bulb was lit. I realized that there was probably an electrical failure in one of the connections. I looked at the second fluorescent in line. It looked like the bulb was burnt. I continued to the third, but in order to verify my assumption, I needed tools and a ladder.
“I recalled the only light bulb in the prison courtyard which illuminates the yard at night, and which was secured by cameras. I turned to Vassili, and in front of everyone I placed my hand on the pen jammed in my shirt and said: ‘Tomorrow there will be light, and you will be amazed, excited and filled with inspiration.’ And very seriously I continued to repeat the motto I was trying to instill: ‘When I say something – it is bound to happen.’ I could see now that the skeptical look was replaced by a pair of gaping eyes. Vassili started to believe. The effect I was attempting to achieve began to seep in.
I went to the room of my Mongol mates. I asked them about the Judo world championships they intended to practice for. When they heard the translation, they seemed distraught and sad. Their big dream vanished as a result of incidences out of their control. They were Mongols in Turkey – not a very good combination facing the Turkish justice system. I looked at them with a long and examining gaze. I placed my hand on the pen in my shirt and said to them: ‘You will make it to the Judo world championship, and at least one of you will win a medal. And you will be thrilled, amazed and filled with inspiration.’
“The silence in the room was broken as they burst out laughing. Laughter which was both liberating as well as filled with hope.
“’Come on,’ I spurred them on, ‘why don’t we make a training camp here, in the prison’s courtyard? We have all the time in the world.’
“We spent the entire day training. I had no clue about Judo. I watched them from the side for forty-five minutes, without uttering a word. I noticed that their responses were late, and that they were always reacting to the opponent’s action. They responded only to the opponent’s action and did not know how to anticipate it before it was made.
“I stopped the session, and took Casbata’an to the side. He was a dwarf made of sixty kilograms of muscle.
Casbata’an competed in the lowest category, ‘flyweight. I suddenly had an idea borrowed from the world of motorcycles. The idea of looking through the corner of the eye. According to this principle, you can look at the direction you want without turning your gaze which will indicate your intention. This is how, for example, when travelling 280 Kph, on a sharp turn, it is impossible to turn to look, so instead, one needs to look through the corner of the eye without moving the neck, otherwise you crash. I explained this concept of ‘looking through the corner of the eye’ to Castaba’an. I asked him to look directly in the eyes of the opponent, and to examine his eye movements. I explained to him the meaning of each little eye movement. At the same time, I taught him how to anticipate the opponent’s direction of action and timing before it comes, by looking through the corner of the eye, and a second before the opponent acts – to precede him with the appropriate attack movement. We had a few demonstrations, and when I thought he got the hang of it – I stopped, and asked him to call in all the guys from the wing to come and cheer.
“We took out mattresses and marked a ring. I placed Casbata’an in a fight against Ascha’at, who was a giant about two meters tall and weighed more than one hundred kilograms. Ascha’at laughed at the idea he was going against a flyweight’ and it seemed as if he was looking at me in ridicule. Fifteen of the wing’s residents gathered around the courtyard. Nearly everyone. They were all excited by the idea of a match in our makeshift arena, and were excited to cheer.
“The match started. Ascha’at approached Casbata’an complacently, and when he lifted his hand and turned his body to begin a routine – he found himself overturned on his back in a split second. Casbata’an who was quick and anticipated the move after seeing it through the corner of his eye, knocked the giant off his feet while using Ascha’at’s strength and weight against him. Everyone around screamed in a frenzy, and I could hear Vassili yelling: ‘Inspiration. Inspiration.’
“Ascha’at, who looked dazed, didn’t find it funny. He began to frown. Angry and humiliated by a little warrior and in front of everyone, he took the battle position again as if asking for another round. Obeying my mark, they bowed before each other and the second round began. Again Casbata’an looked at Ascha’at’s eyes. This time, Ascha’at was more alert, and started with a different move, but Casbata’an quickly managed to avoid being knocked down. Once more they took their fighting positions, again Ascha’at tried to grab Casbata’an and attack, and again Casbata’an anticipated the move and by using Ascha’at’s strength against him, he also lifted him for a drop this time as well.
“By now I stopped the match. I could see Ascha’at’s eyes blazing. I approached him, and asked Casbata’an to translate. I explained to him what I had taught Casbata’an and reassured him that no one will be able to surprise him anymore. This is how I found myself in the courtyard of a Turkish prison, training the Mongolian Judo team.
“From that moment on, all five team members practiced Judo matches day and night while using the corner of the eye vision technique.
“At some point, when everyone was busy, I took a broom stick from the kitchen and broke the only light bulb working in the courtyard. Fortunately, no one noticed. I only hoped that I wasn’t caught on camera.
“At night, when the complete darkness obstructed the cameras’ view of the courtyard, an electrician was urgently called in. He came the following morning. When he arrived, I called everyone. First of all I prepped them that when he arrives, they must immediately make him a cup of tea and applaud him. One of the people present translated what I said to the electrician: ‘You are an important man, you shouldn’t be working. Have some tea, relax, I am working for you.’ He loved the idea, and I replaced the bulb in his place. Everyone’s applauses flattered him, even when he sat there doing nothing.
“After I realized that the trick was working, I repeated it in another version. This time I pointed out the fluorescents that weren’t working, and showed it to the electrician. Again he got a round of applause and words of praise, while drinking the additional cup of tea poured for him, the smile and sense of self respect did not leave his face. The electrician, who came with tools and a ladder, was my way to fix the fluorescents and keep my word. Indeed I did say that there will be light. I approached the third fluorescent, took it apart, and sure enough I found a torn wire in there.
