Emails to the Big Chief: Day 4 - Get Me Out of Here

You will be delighted to hear that it’s day 4 and still no vodka. Mind you, Boris arrives tomorrow, so it may not last.

It’s a bit like an Australian survival programme here at mealtimes. The food’s ordered the day before and delivered from the municipal facility.

‘Hey Elizabeth said Sasha as she rummaged in the box today ‘what do you fancy for lunch? We’ve got soup, fish, salad and bread. Wow, we’ve also got chocolates. I guess those are for you, the honoured guest’. After which, the girls preserved my figure by eating most of the box themselves.

When my class arrived on Monday, I realised that many of the faces were familiar from 1994. A little older, a few more inches around some of the waistlines, but still smartly dressed with gold teeth glistening and hair bleached and permed. I remember the looks of panic and incomprehension when we first talked to them about manufacturing drugs. Now, they are more confident and keen to learn. Today we had the ‘design a factory’ exercise – a mountain of virtual money to spend. There was much argument and laughter from the syndicates.