Karabas honors memory by continuing a tradition it has been collecting since the days of the Gulag. Here was the place through which all Karlag prisoners were supposed to enter. The current prison camp is well visible from the bridge over the railway tracks. At least half of the buildings inside the „zone“ seem in ruins. It is described as a modern prison camp but what exactly does that mean. As I stand on the bridge radio is in full blast and then some instructions are read on loudspeakers. In Russian of course. Around it a village. Children going to school on a Saturday morning. A group of men with white caps gathering on the outskirts and cooking something in a hug pot hanging over fire. From the edge of the village I can see the industrial area. There is smoke and a lot of dust. Yet the reigning smell is of some herb. I now the smell but I cannot recall the herb.
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