|
| |
A Change in the Ukraine
by Mary Barr
While there is a paucity of drug treatment and other alternatives to
incarceration in the United States, the concept is not new to us. Synanon
emerged in the 1950s as an innovative drug and alcohol treatment program. Widely
praised for years, Synanon slipped eventually into cult behavior, exercising
strict control over its followers. The group, having lost its tax exemption,
disbanded in 1991. The majority of today’s residential and outpatient treatment
centers in America place more emphasis on life skills and return to the
community as a productive member of society. According to a 1997 report from the
Center on Alcohol and Substance Abuse, treatment is only available to15% that
need it. Only recently have we begun a public dialog on drug policy, and
alternatives to incarceration are still misunderstood and under-utilized.
However, when Synanon began, it was a program where those addicted to drugs and
alcohol were supposed to stay for life. We have come a long way in our thinking
since then.
In July of 2001 I was invited to consult on the development of a transitional
program for women in Odessa, Ukraine, by Sergei Kostin, Director of The Way
Home. As part of this project, I conducted interviews with Henady Lenivov, the
Chairman of Prisons in Odessa, and Viktor Vasilina, the former police chief of
Odessa, who now heads the Human Rights Group, a buffer between the government
and non-profit organizations (called NGO’s in Ukraine). I also toured some
recently structured programs and visited women prisoners. Until around 1996,
when the first needle exchanges were opened, the only forms of substance abuse
treatment in the Ukraine were prison and 'alcohol rehabilitation work centers,'
a title that says it all. The police had the power to pick up anyone who
appeared intoxicated and place them in these centers while they suffered with
delirium tremors and withdrawal. Not unlike the United States. This practice was
outlawed in the Ukraine in 2000 due to prisoner abuse and other human rights
violations, but not in the U.S.
I learned in my July 30, 2001 interview with Mr. Lenivov that 35,000 prisoners
were being released from all prisons in the Ukraine by September 2001 to ease
overcrowding. In an October 2001 phone conversation with Mr. Kostin I learned
that this promise was kept and that another group of prisoners is being
considered for release. Not all welcome the amnesty because of lack of social
programs, this is one reason transitional programs are being welcomed. Chairman
of prisons, Lenivov also stated that small amounts of drugs deemed for personal
use were to be officially decriminalized. This has been an unofficial law for
over a year according to former police chief Vasilina. This policy was confirmed
in my later questions to drug users. In a December 2002 phone conversation with
Mr. Kostin I learned official decriminalization has not yet happened. Mr.
Lenivov stated that around 25% of prisoners were incarcerated for drugs. He
believes more committed their crime for drugs or under the influence of alcohol
but lacks data.
Like most other successor states, Ukraine suffered steep economic decline after
the dismantlement of the Soviet Union and the standard of living for the
population has suffered dramatic consequences. Anyone who can put together a
wreck of a car is a taxi driver and the average fare is fifty cents American.
Minors in Ukraine constitute around forty percent of the homeless population and
15% of these are pre-school aged children. The Way Home, headed by Mr. Kostin,
offers assistance to the homeless in Odessa. They work with 850 children and
5,000 adult clients. Mr. Kostin stated in our recent phone interview that the
number of street children is rising and The Way Home now works with more. They
publish a newspaper that updates the public on social and health issues; and the
clients are employed in selling it. The program feeds children everyday but can
only afford to feed adults when there are leftovers. They also offer some
medical attention, and Irina Federova, the nurse/social worker, often is
stitching wounds, bandaging body parts, and disinfecting sores. The building is
over a century old and in disrepair, but it has a roof. People were asleep in
chairs, on the floor or each other; wherever they could find some safe resting
place.
Since poverty and lack of options are contributors to depression, the number of
substance abusers has risen. While there is a lack of data as to how many people
are addicted to all drugs in the Ukraine, a conservative estimate is placed at
750,000. There are an estimated 75,000 injection drug users in Odessa. Since
some of the homeless are also addicts, The Way Home networks with a needle
exchange program, also in Odessa, simply named, The Harm Reduction Program. The
director of this program, Oksana Ilchenko, says they exchange needles for around
250 people a day. This is accompanied by instruction on safe injection methods,
alcohol pads, chlorine tablets and AIDS awareness education. There is an
epidemic of AIDS in the Ukraine, with more than a quarter of a million people
estimated to be infected. Unlike patients in America, Ukraine can’t afford to
treat its AIDS population until the later stages of the disease, resulting in a
life expectancy of less than five years. According to UNAIDS 98% of those
infected with HIV receive no treatment at all. More than 80% of the identified
cases are not from sexual contact but by injection drug use. Hepatitis is also
on the rise, which needle exchange also helps decrease. “When the program
started, the word spread and clients lined up like ants,” Ilchenko says.
“Intravenous drug users want to use responsibly, and they have since given this
opportunity.” The good news is that the Ukraine and the Russian Federation are
welcoming these programs. The Open Society Institute and other charitable
efforts now support around 35-40 of these programs. Maybe my state, New Jersey,
which has the highest rate of AIDS in the U.S. due to unclean needles, will
follow this example.
I went walking with an outreach social worker, Olga Belaya, on her route to
exchange syringes with ‘street’ people or people for whom traveling to the
needle exchange program is difficult. We took a taxi part way and when we exited
we were surrounded by a group of people. Many of them were prostitutes. They
agree to a photo after the outreach worker explains who I am. “You used to use
drugs,” one lady asks me, “how did you stop?” Four other women gather around me
to hear the answer. I say that the explanation is long but the short answer is
that I found faith in God and myself. “I want to be just like you,” says one of
the ladies. “You are just like me,” I reply. Unfortunately sentences for
prostitution are being raised from 3-6 months to 2-3 years and they make up a
good deal of the people who the drug possession decriminalization would have
helped keep out of prison. Since 2001 the government has reconsidered and left
the 3-6 month sentence and releases most if they can pay a fine.
In my interview with Mr. Lenivov on July 30, 2001, he states that he is
cooperating with NGO’s in the hope the prisons will receive medicine to stem
spread of diseases due to overcrowding and lack of medicine. While they have an
epidemic of Tuberculosis, he is also concerned about the spread of Hepatitis and
AIDS. Also of concern is the fact that guards make only $50.00 per month, which
leads to corruption. He says that doctors give AIDS awareness education but
there is one for each building. While around 25% of the populations are
incarcerated for drug crimes, only the psychologist gives drug abuse therapy.
Mr. Lenivov agrees to allow outside experts from this project give substance
abuse and harm reduction workshops to prisoners in the future. When I ask, he
states they do give out condoms, but only during conjugal visits and that
because these visits are common, there has not been one reported rape, by guards
or prisoners, in the three years he has held this position. In the prison we
will visit, The Odessa Women’s Correctional Facility, there are 1,683 women. Mr.
Lenivov says that the decision between the president and chairmen to release
35,000 prisoners in a meeting on July 5, will relieve overcrowding in this
facility as well. He supports the establishment of a transitional program for
women, and allows us to visit the prison for this purpose. We are transported by
car to the women’s facility.
In the U.S. we spend over 170 billion dollars a year on prisons where rape
abounds and services for prisoners are woefully inadequate. Ukraine spends five
cents a day on their prisoners and I believe problems are more extensive than
discussed. However, I am excited by the fact that the government is open to
improvement.
When we enter the prison, we turn our passports in at the front and are led into
a lovely shaded courtyard. Some things of Odessa I love the most are its verdant
bushes, trees and gardens. A female officer, Lt. Colonel Olga Borovskaya,
breathlessly greets us at the entrance. She explains they were not expecting us
and were just getting ‘ready’ for our tour. She takes us to the children’s
building first where I am allowed to take pictures of the cribs with sleeping
toddlers. Lt. Col. Borovskaya says this is one of two facilities in the Russian
Federation where mothers may keep their children for up to three years. They are
allowed two visits a day and to take their child in the courtyard to play where
there is a swing and a crib. I am introduced to the doctor for the thirty-six
children, who Lt. Col. Borovskaya tells me they call, “Mommy.” The doctor tells
me the baby nursery is under quarantine. I ask how the mothers can visit their
children twice a day if they are not tested for Tuberculosis. Lt. Col.
Borovskaya quickly moves us on to the dorm.
The grapevine in the prison is a good one and a throng of women surge to the
front of a medium sized warehouse-like building, straining to see us. I wave and
begin to walk towards them when Lt. Col. Borovskaya blocks my way, saying I can
talk to them later, that first she wants to show me a dorm. She takes us to an
oblong single story outbuilding, and shows us a room where there are two bunk
beds covered in lace and satin bows. Plants and flowers are strung across the
room. I notice that there are no personal effects, no pictures or shoes under
the bunks. I take a deep breath and understand that they are trying to put their
best face on for visitors. We do the same in our jails. I work in various
prisons and once attended a function given in a female dormitory for some
commissioners and academicians. When we entered the dormitory I hardly
recognized the place. They had placed maroon velveteen covers on the bunks and
little sprigs of plastic flowers on the women’s lockers. As soon as the guests
left these were removed and replaced with the usual threadbare gray blankets.
Lt. Col. Borovskaya is arranging for me to interview some prisoners in her
office and we walk back past the medium sized building where, it seems to me,
many of the women are living. I ask to go there and I am refused. The less I am
shown, the more I see. When we get to her office she asks me to sit at her desk
for the interview. I politely decline. The prisoners will be nervous enough. Lt.
Col. Borovskaya says she will not sit in on the interview but is hanging out
around the door. A male uniformed officer enters and sits instead. They lead in
two young women in matching uniforms, which I know from seeing the others
haphazardly dressed, is for my benefit. They are twenty-six year old Natasha and
twenty-nine year old Marianna. I find out from Natasha that she became involved
in a youth gang when she was orphaned. At age 17 she was breaking into a house
with other kids for food and money when the owner came home. He took out a gun
and aimed at her. She had a gun also, fired at him and killed him. She received
an eighteen year sentence, considered lenient, because of her age. She hates it
in the prison and thinks she should have gotten less time. I ask what services
they are providing her and she looks at me quizzically. “We work, we eat, we
sleep,” she answers. The male officer speaks up saying, “We do some things for
you too.” “Like what?” I ask him. Lt. Col. Borovskaya jumps into the room and
states we have to go. I ask my interpreter, Lorna, to say that I am not here to
judge but to find out what help the women need when they are released. I am
allowed five more minutes.
Marianna says she was given three years for stealing four hundred dollars at her
workplace. She was making twenty-five dollars a month with two children to
support. They are now with her mother. I ask what they would like to do when
they are released. “Get married and have a family of course,” Natasha answers.
“But what about for you? A job, counseling?” I ask. The job part she understands
and says she would like to be a seamstress. Marianna adds that Natasha is the
best seamstress in the prison. Natasha blushes at the praise. I ask if they
receive any of this support, counseling or dialog with officers or doctors. They
say counseling is a concept unknown to them. I ask, “Has anyone told you that
you are creative, beautiful, and strong?” They stare at me. “Of course not,”
Natasha says. “I am telling you.” I say. To my astonishment, tears form in her
eyes, then mine. I ask, and they both tell me, that while they did not use
drugs, experimentation with drugs is the norm for young people. Before I can ask
any more questions Lt. Col. Borovskaya pops in and says the interview is over.
I can’t stop worrying for these women. In the Ukraine violence against women and
children is even worse than it is in the U.S. They are sometimes forcibly
shipped to Turkey, Yugoslavia, Greece and Cyprus to work as prostitutes. Only
one sexual harassment suit has ever been brought to trial. While education
opportunities for women are equal to those enjoyed by men; women fill only 5% of
all first and second level managerial positions. Last year there were almost
2,000 deaths in Ukraine prisons, more than three times the death rate of the
outside population. Many of these are due to harsh conditions and a frequent
rate of dysentery and suicide.
Ukraine had many of these problems before the dissolution of the Soviet Union,
now they are magnified. Some other concerns are drug smuggling from Nigeria to
the Netherlands; and Central Asia and Afghanistan to Central Europe. The
majority of the citizens do not use banks for their money because of the
corruption in the tax police instead having elaborate locks on their doors.
While authorities do not know the extent of money laundering they are sure
outside countries and the Russian mafia are exploiting the Central Bank system.
Journalists have been beaten following their reporting and two have been
murdered in the past two years.
We have some of the same problems in the United States. Homeless in America
reports around 770,000 homeless on any given night, and 2,220,000 homeless for
2000. The National Organization for Women estimates that 8 to 12 million women
are abused at some time in their life. The Missing Children Center cites a child
is reported missing in the US every 18 seconds. Thankfully we have medication
available for patients with HIV and AIDS, but prevention and cures should be the
real priorities. The smuggling of illegal drugs flourishes because we consume
them. ONDCP indicates that illegal drug use rose from 6.4% in 1997 to 7% in
1999. Laundering money from known drug and criminal enterprises has scandalized
our banking system. While there is no evidence of journalists being killed for
unpopular reporting, the U.S. government denies privileges and information to
those whose reporting is contrary to their views. The estimated 170 billion
dollars we spend to incarcerate non-violent offenders every year, not including
the people housed in local facilities, would be better spent on preventing and
treating these social maladies.
Ukraine is changing some of these policies because of lack of funds and spread
of diseases, (they are getting outside funding to help stop the spread of HIV,
Hepatitis and Tuberculosis from UNAIDS, Open Society Institute and others), but
public opinion is still entrenched in old ideas. I
met a great cab driver who spoke some English. He took me around the city and we
got on famously. When he asked me what I do, I tried to explain by drawing a
picture of a face inside some bars. He pointed to the picture and said, “Bad
man.” I said, “No, good man, bad prison.” He shook his head and said, “Bad man.”
I repeated my line. He then shrugged his shoulders and said, “If prison, bad
man.” I felt just like I was back in the U.S.
|
