The salty childhood.
It seems to me I always writе something.Or watch some film - just scroll an invisible film before my mind,on which I can see events,faces,fates of differrent people.And I have a big desire-to get it from "within",and show it to everybody.
I like to observe of people.For example in bus, I see somebody and notice the headdress on his hand "Valya". I look at the faces of old people,at the children,walking with their parents.I peer at windows,just try to imagine what is that behind curtains.Why? I don't know...
What for I, having conceded to the muffled desire has taken up the pen, to tell about the "salty" childhood?. Too I do not know.
I would not like, that, reading these lines, it seemed to you that I want to move to pity someone that somebody has regretted me.No.I wish, that, having reading memoirs about "the salty childhood",someone's heart has trembled. Perhaps he or she will remember their children. Where they are, what is with them? Or, having met the child from children's home, you will be ready not only to "be sorry", but sincerely to help such child.You just can have a participate in destiny. Often it is not reach of that. "The uncle's,or aunt's" sweet already is considered participation... And where that golden mean when, having assisted and assistance to a si-company, it is necessary to depart, give in time to him chance and possibility to take the first independent step to life. He does not understand more often that your help cannot last always and only he can help himself...
About myself and my companions, their destinies I tried to write as much as possible truthfully, as I consider what important to write truth. Perhaps truth will sort things out after years though somehow will facilitate present orphaned sufferings (wanted to clean this phrase, but it too truth). Many of my friends already are not present in the live. The childhood happens a miscellaneous, and it depends only on parents. Only they are responsible for the childhood of children.
I would not like, that this book sounded charge to parents, not about them speech, for them is faster - "do not judge yes we do not judge you will be". But children's homes are and will exist still very long, and it is necessary to manage to help to children-orphans to find itself, to understand a world order and to find in itself motives of Hope, Belief and Love. All it as "water of life" to their wounded souls. Love these and all children, and they will be happy. Would like, that my memoirs were read by the teachers working with children-orphans in children's homes. I will not have councils and sentences how to be. In these memoirs it is simply told, how was, was at me and my friends deprived of parental love, a family and received in exchange "system education". After years I can name children's home one this word - "system". Perhaps to someone from teachers these memoirs will help to understand this system, to understand artful designs of mutual relations of all participants of "process".
Children's homes lag behind quickly changing time of "external world" because of their closeness from a society, internal "order". To maneuver "in time" to orphans it is much heavier, than to children house. To manage to estimate children, their diligence and desire to live as much as possible happily as it only is possible in children's home to promote them in it and to help in further is so important. Children, any children want pleasure and heat... It is necessary to try to help to them to find it warmly.
All to remember!
Has shirked a dog (about her destiny I will write hardly more low), has taken a breath, as if before immersing. Has visited Alexander Nevsky's cathedral, has whispered a prayer. I prepare. I know,that exactly today I will write about orphanage childhood.
Long time I chose music under which it will be better to work, has chosen songs from films of Ryazanov-I lived with these films, means, and to remember under them... Then I will put Mark Bernes, it is close to me, very much... Lives, as the songs are different.
I didn't think that it is so hard to remember what I lived,I endured... But what in this life is simple? It is important to begin.... No, I will put Bernes earlier, an agonal disk,voice is much sad...
Yes, Petrozavodsk and in any way differently. And after all there could be for example Moscow. Or Suzdal, Vladimir, Sudogda, Sobinka - in general, all Vladimir region. There has passed my strange childhood. There I was thrown, wound from one children's home in another...
In 1990, after three-year service on fleet,It was all the same for me where to go. Nobody waited me - everywhere. I could leave on any substation. I left in Petrozavodsk. About what I am not sorry. Such strange freedom, freedom of choosing freedom...
The phrase "all of us comes from the childhood" both about me and not about me. There was no me in a childhood, that happens at all. Sweet, cheerful, carefree, with Mum and the Father. I know only the one who has created me. He is there, above... So it is easier. To present those who has given birth to me and has left, difficultly, painfully difficultly... For what?
It seems that I remember myself absolutely small, strangely enough, - just born, understanding that somebody leaves me in maternity home. I ask a sight: how my affairs? Something white it is awkward to them to look me in the face. And "it" laments all: "Mum will come, mum will come..."
This strange phrase ran into me, as a torpedo in a steamship. Where and what for my mum has to leave from me? "White" already knows that mother will not come. I know also. But "they" where taught to tell "truth" that the child did not fidget, did not cry - was silent, as before execution.
Then for very long I didn't hear these four letters, very long: M, A, P, A. And sounded ridiculously the question in children's homes: do you love your mum? What mum? Whose mum? Show me her, and I will answer... Why keep these illusions about mum who is not present nearby? Illusions prevent to live... Already then, being issued from the children's home, being picked in "releasing documents", I have met crushed lines of a clumsy note:" I refuse the son because I can not... "I regret that has wasted this yellow paper leaf as has once been thrown itself. Probably, genes - all to throw... Probably, I then have regretted mother... But on ignorance I much that has thrown out in life. Now on hands only one laminated inquiry: lived in children's home, the press. And anything more...
The press on all life.
Having looked in our heads of insects and having diagnosed - a pediculosis, me and my associates was sent in Gus-Crystal - a beautiful Russian ancient city - a city of underground crystal.
In each new child care centre everybody and always interested in reason of my surname. I was asked, whether I know Azerbaijan. It was ridiculous, after all it is known that I come from maternity home. I didn't know Russian plainly yet. But they asked, without reflecting. At times simply with idle curiosity. Anyone look sometimes in an aquarium to ask small fish name. But I am not a small fish, though... At one time I even wanted to replace a surname - with Kolokoltsev, for example...
Our "lawn-and-garden" was near the market. We were engaged in standing about a fence and plaintively looked at passers-by - already then we began to "orphanaging", knowing we can't wait for any participation from anywhere . Sometimes we got something. Most I had anything,it seems I could make "beautifully" eyes. Passers-by pushed to us in pockets sunflower seeds, sweets, pickles... And further "orphanhood" often rescued, helped to survive. And whether it is possible to blame children, which it is necessary to search for the country of the joyful, "sweet" childhood?
Tutors quite often gathered in an arbour, smoked "Belomor" and talked of sundry matters. I, having hidden nearby, overheard, for what sometimes got to me. And it was interesting to me, about what adult aunts, at which so much personal problems on work and at home speak. That me have not caught once again, I crept under an arbour and, lying on the earth, having enclosed under a hand head, listened to "film radio".
About what only they did not speak: about the salary, about kitchen, about the director... And about all it is tasty, dirty, at times with hatred. But most of all got to husbands. He is so-and-so,I would kill him - one spoke, and another echoed: and I would kill the. I did not know, who are husbands, I thought, they are dogs or still any animals. Especially I remember one tutor in a leather coat, always with cigarette in black teeth. She named us comrades, and teachers - dear comrades... She was not very much watched us. Happened, costs with the cigarette and looks somewhere afar. And we potter about anywhere. Once I even have fallen down in pool with a fountain, having pulled behind a yellow autumn leaf.
Punishments at us were various. Sometimes forced to the knees on millet or other groats. Time and again it was happened to me, as however with others. In "garden" there lived two parrots,from who tutors borrowed "products" for these purposes.
Since then I do not get parrots.
In the evening there was a shouting in garden. All children, young and old shouted. Simply "nurse" came to work. I do not remember her face,no constitution,neither age, nor a name, anything - all was somehow erased from memory. I remember hours "Dawn" on a metal bracelet. Evil is remembered badly, thanks of memory for it.
"Nurse" made a habit of going at night to stokehole to the fireman. And as preventive maintenance of our sleeplessness instead of a medicine for sound sleep she used a game rubber shovel. We obediently threw back blankets, and heads hid under pillows - went "banging on". The shovel was such rigid - at that time did not do soft, it is a pity... Having spent preventive work, "the nurse" happy left on all night long. And behind a window it was the darkness, a wind, trees are scraped by paws-branches in windows... Terribly. And there is nobody to call. So was always - there was nobody to call and then. We could hope only for ourself we were accustomed in the infancy. You will tell - and it is good. But then what for it is so much personnel around us? And what are they engaged?.
"Nurse" often had dismantlings with fireman, she locked a door, he ran under windows, shouted something indecent. Many began to urinate at beds. Night as time of days for all childhood to me became hated.
When "nurse" fireworked ", for the first time we have started to go "on a pot " by ourselves. For this purpose it was necessary to get up, go to a toilet, to get on a stool, to get "signed" by fruit and vegetables,instead of names a pot and to make need in it. I was "a water-melon" or "a vegetable marrow" more often. Real "garden-kitchen garden" where we are fruit-berry children...
One time when I got the "vegetable marrow", all pots have fallen down to my head and have punched it. So I had a first scar. In further it will be much, but this was the first,inital. Having been frightened, I have laid down in a bed, and blood all flew... "Nurse" have dismissed (at that time there was no judge for it), but she was taken in other establishment. What director will fairly write about the oversight? But other "nurses", with other methods of struggle against children have come. They turned on the light among night, terribly questioning, who wants to urinate... Now I sleep sensitively. I wait, when will call.
All round us was the extremely poor. Perhaps it was such period of time? Old furniture, old clothes, old, bulky toys... I remember the truck, iron - well very big... We never played war, daughters-mothers. We received everyone any toy and stupidly sat near her. Then exchanged. We never fought - there is nothing to divide, all is settled-is adjusted. However,one time someone has struck me by car, that, iron, I have struck in the answer with a wooden horse. Then we both stood long "in millet", sprouted. Fed same: soup, macaroni with a potato, kissel with a white loaf. Ate all to a crumb. Tutors threatened that if somebody underate - will not watch "Cheburashka". This method of a whip and spice-cake was applied further often. It was necessary to submit. And where you will get to from the submarine? Sometimes even now I catch myself on how I eat, as a dog at a box: I swallow quickly, choking with pieces. I am not able to eat. But I am omnivorous that presently is welcomed. Porridge? Let's porridge. Compote? I agree with compote... Without a difference. So it is easy then to orphans on"zone"- all the same what a stomach to fill with. We are prepared for such life. And still we should be grateful for"education"...
We were always reserved by bread: dried pieces on batteries, and gnawed at night, as hamsters. A special glamour was considered - to prepare fried bread. For this purpose it is necessary to press a piece the heated iron - necessity is the mother of invention.
Certainly,it was profit to rats: all batteries, all corners in chambers have been hammered by dry bread. There was no cleaners, we cleaned all children's home. And "bread-drying" functioned always, up to the TECHNICAL TRAINING COLLEGE, and in the TECHNICAL TRAINING COLLEGE too.
Trust me,I can hardly remember anything bright in "garden". Perhaps it was something, but it was forgot. One day was similar to another. Lifting, rubdown by a crude mitten before an open window, jumps on cold to a floor... No, there was somehow a case. One cook took me home - with products. Perhaps she pitied me. Somehow time I have eaten all sweets in her buffet. It was ridiculous that she, the adult aunt, spoke with me as with the newborn. It is visible she did not have children, she would be desire to lisp, but I got in buffet and so long sweets... In general,I had dispelled her dreams concerning motherhood. She used foul language to me and has returned me in children's home. To me it was all the same, I have gorged on sweets for a long time and even has brought to companion... She was no more taking me to her home.
The first hospital.
I happened to have blood poisoning, and have sent in hospital, in "zero" chamber. The hospital was wooden. I layed for days on end in a bed on which back hung any label - with a name, probably.
This period I remember with fragments. Doctors often came, looked at me, I looked on them. They spoke: long he will not stretch. And I thought: what, what I will not stretch?. I was carried on a stool in the procedural. The big syringe "pulled" from one hand strange black blood, and in other hand poured in red - there is a lot of another's blood in me.Nobody came to me. My bedside table was always empty. I remember, when I have understood that all will be good: has woken up among night, and saw cat sitting on my breast. I could not stroke her, but she began to come often.
Once I have spilt any mixture - vials and jars with medicines in a considerable quantity stood on a stool at a bed. I was roused and, being unsteady, have gone to a toilet - to search for a rag. I moved, keeping for a wall, and staff nurses sitting on a post have noticed that I go. In a toilet I took a rag, have brought in chamber and, weakened, have failed near a bed.I have lain till the morning on a rag.
Then there spring came. It has rushed into open windows of hospital with the bird's din, anew having consecrated my existence. I approached to a window, rested a forehead against a window frame and looked and listened to spring. Then I began to release on street. I sat on a shop. Nearby someone chirped, the sky was dark blue, the grass green - life proceeded.
Patients from other chambers began to come with gifts, and my bedside table never was empty now. Strange people sat down on an edge of my bed and spoke with me... In hospital I have spent about one year. But then me have returned "into place" - in "lawn-and-garden".
My first final.
In 75th in our "lawn-and-garden" has taken place a release. Till now I remember a smell of identical clothes which they gave us. Satchels, cases, rulers and other - all was one in one. We looked to each other in cases, searched for something not similar, excellent, "beautiful", and did not find.
I remember, the director has constructed everybody as before sending on front, and has read where and in what children's home there leaves each of us. And it was was all the same to us - where. The soul under the form rejoiced: we are waited by any changes, millet and "tutors" in the past... And in vain rejoiced. Then I already seldom trusted in changes to the best as during stay in children's homes seldom saw that bad has ceased to be bad, simply one bad was replaced by other bad. Already when we have planted in the bus, any grandmother has approached to it and, naming my surname, has asked, where I. And she was "fairly" told that I am in the case...
So "tutors" could change my destiny, but they would not like to spend their time for me to understand, who and what for is interested in me. I don't know who that grandmother was, but may be... Who knows?.
"Tutors" farewell words have last time told, and we have gone. I have clung to glass and looked, how "lawn-and-garden" as the city - in the past departures, in a distance, in "a memory file" leaves...
On our places newcomers have come to "lawn-and-garden". The conveyor which deprived of the childhood in a family, worked regularly. Most simple - to take away from a family, to deprive of all rights...
Children's home - a straw for this purpose who has already sunk.
New,well very new
Me have sent in settlement New Gus-Crystal area in old wooden children's home. Strange, practically I don't remember light and beautiful children's homes. All of them were extremely poor and old, as though the childhood of "such" child can pass only in "such" place - not to confuse, to give hope, not to tempt. New buildings for children's homes were not under construction, are not under construction and now. What for? Walls and a roof over the head are necessary after all only. It was "care" of the state - it should be difficult in all and from the very beginning. If to look at photos of my children's homes, you will not understand - whether it is psychiatric hospital, whether something is worse.
All new in New
When we were unloaded and handed over "under the list", all pupils-old residents for some reason looked not at us, but on brand new satchels and the form. Then I have understood that the private property in children's home will be always absent. All is general - means, not yours. It does in due course terrible harm in property relations - not to feel sorry for anything, to give everything,an illiterate "widesoulity" (so-called, certainly).
The senior girls have "generously" selected our satchels, clothes and have given out to their"daughters"and"sonnies"- whom they patronised and dragged everywhere behind itself, as dolls. And have given to us their old clothes, having declared to"children"that all have bought new in shop. So they played in "adulty". Adult problems dared easily: take away from the stranger and give to the your own - and all affairs."Dolls"rejoiced. Further this theme "own's-another's" always was present at relations of orphans from children's home. Younger shared on those who was sponsored and who not. This pseudo-motherhood had not something in common with the present motherhood though so it not seemed to much. Then, having matured, when our"mummies"gave birth, provide the present children with all necessary they could not and were not able. Result: their children again in children's home.Children's homes parents precisely know that the state will always feed and dress their children.
I had no luck to get to number of "fascinates" -I didn't have neither growth, nor an attractive face and, the most important thing, it was not similar to one of the senior girls, means, not "sonny". It was carefully traced, and at the slightest similarity at you appeared "maman" or "papan". Averages have checked up us, bald and smoothfaced, to pediculosis - then from establishment in establishment of children transferred with such "hairdresses". It was convenient - louses remained without the owner. I remember, one girl cried and shouted at a hairstyle, begging they have returned her hair into place. Seniors, scoffing, have laid to her cut hair on a head, promising that they will grow. The girl has believed also any time carried spin hair on a bald skull. All laughed at her, and I, seven-year old, felt pity to her.
And from the first day on this new place in settlement New we not only studied, but also worked. Then in general have ceased to study, only worked. We had pigs, a horse, the hens, still any living creatures. The children's home was engaged in a survival, and all should work for to eat. What for to study? The director said that work has made a man from a monkey. But they couldn't teach us to work really. Then it is difficult to explain to already adult person how to work. That there is a collective with which it is necessary to build relations, there is a labour discipline at last. In children's home so have perverted concept of value of work that it's matured orphans would not be desirable to work simply any more. Many searched for other ways and found - in prison after all too feed free of charge...
At once we have defined in a brigade on pigsty cleaning, and we have received nicknames "swiners". The pigsty was not the worst variant. After all could send still to saw fire wood, to load coal, to dig a kitchen garden... Seniors did not participate in it, into their duties entered joyfully to drive us for work. Averages watched us. They too have already fulfilled and were going to become seniors. So there was everywhere and always, workers of children's homes understood - it is conveniently to operate younger by means of seniors who once after all too were younger and have passed through the same bitter experience. Fear and once again fear - that's on what the educational system of children's home of those years kept. Then I have faced it in army, "military hazing" did not become for me opening, but to what such experience to the seven-year boy or the girl, appeared under the care of the state? By what right adult uncles and aunts shifted the educational functions on angered on all and all the senior children's shoulders?
Somehow with a companion hardly senior me we have sat down to have a rest in a wood sledge . The director, having seen that we are not working, has seized me by an ear and has lifted for it, having said in my face: "Who is not work, he is not guzzle". Then I long sawed fire wood. And I said the doctor that the ear has touched with a saw. She was delighted that I am so sharp and do not create problems, has given to me a little vitamin, without having forgotten to put another in own mouth (that has for some reason made me laugh then).
Strangely enough, I studied well, even very much. I was diligent,assiduous . In a record book were only high marks, I sometimes flaunted for that. The senior will come and will ask: who is best studies? Noone gave out anybody, but all looked in my party or for same the poor fellow-honours pupil, and it was necessary to go to water a kitchen garden. Or we were drove behind cigarettes to shop, or to collect "bull-calves" in the street.
Somehow seniors have collected all and have told that they have decided to "remove" the TV, mass meeting in shop is necessary. We "massed" - and where you will get to?
Then in militia have found extreme from among averages, have planted on "young child"...
The settlement was engaged in peat extraction. We drove trolleys on a branch line, went for a drive, without running nearly into passing electric trains. And still we put a coin on rails for a flattening -it was interesting to flatter money.
It was impossible to pass easy on settlement - local were always lifted up, called "inkubators". The same was both in Suzdal, and in other children's homes - us felt far off.
I always carried a stone-pebble with myself in a pocket, so it was easier to beat off from local boys. Usually having surrounded you from different directions, they started to be called, kick with feet. I turned as a top and swung my hand in which the stone has been clamped. Nobody wanted to receive in a forehead, they jumped aside, here and it was necessary to do feet, and I ran quickly... Already at a children's home fence you shout as crazy-sick. "We" will hear - and fight under a fence has gone. I did not beat with stone, it was not accepted. There has come a fashion to cast lead knuckle-dusters from lead of the machine accumulator and to carry in pockets on any fight. I had it too. There is a blow in boxing called "swing". Here we tried to swing with processed lead too. There was a moment when all man's collective of children's home local have caused on the general slaughter, and we, younger, have received the order from seniors - to cast more than lead knuckle-dusters. We forged as before Kulikovsky fight, seniors even carried meal for us.
I only have understood later,the reason of such rage on us from varieties. At school "we" "cleaned" pockets, dragged that will get under the hand, gathered gardens and kitchen gardens. It turns out, varieties were right.
Somehow time I have got stuck on a mow, and seniors - he and she have come there - to "play". I remember their names and surnames to this day. And they "remembered" me, as I have got out from under hay in the heat of "games". It is good that she has kept him, he would kill, probably.
Directors have dismissed - he got up something there with girls.He caused them serially to clean the house, it was closed with them and "helped". I heard, he even have planted, with confiscation. All went joyful as after the revolution, the full orgy in children's home was: have no director - all to a feast, so long study. But when we "got" of other director, old all began to remember as "good". Children-orphans are such business... Will sell, if it is necessary. And it is not their fault, life learns to search for benefit in any situations...
We received special impressions from holidays. There was an unwritten law in children's home: all gifts need to be put under a pillow. Averages came and took it away on pieaces on spare parts, then all gave to seniors. A maximum that got to us, caramel. We also regaled, found a stick-match,thrust in caramel - like anything...
So was in all children's homes which I have visited, there were more than ten to my account, of different profiles, of different genres. Guarded, throughput, tubercular etc. There were all sorts. So I had special relation with gifts. Somehow I have presented a beautiful plastic saxophone. So I have broken it, that to another have not got... I was long asked-interrogated about it for to select and sell, I was silent as the guerrilla,then I told that it was stolen...
Practically all smoked. Showed "adality". I never smoked. Seniors drove younger for "bull-calves", (drive till now), even has been defined quantitative "bringing": twenty-thirty pieces. Has brought - the good fellow, no - get socked in an eye.
Almost by Rasputin
But not all was bad in variety children's home, there was good things to remember. For the first time I had concerned humanly, it was my first teacher. Then such relations I saw at cinema "French Lessons" under Valentine Rasputin's story. But in a film I was confused that the guy from a family was sent to study in a city where he suffered for hunger. Clearly, parents wanted, that the son was learnt, but when the question costs about life and death...
I don't know, whether my teacher guessed what was created with us actually , but she often invited me to her home. Helped, in every possible way supported. She lived in the settlement, but nevertheless nearby, in the house behind a beautiful fence. My memory has still kept, it that to the house it was necessary to go through a cemetery. Then I have asked the first question on death. She delicately answered to me on such questions, explained, how could, but always preserved against that I perceived death as a way to solve vital questions quickly and easily. She was the believer, orthodox, icons were hung in a house, but at school nobody knows about that.
And since then somehow I have ceased to be afraid of death, and it have helped me to pass through set of limits, situations and dangers of that time " jagged " lives.
She always met me at a threshold, spent to the house. I precisely do not remember what she spoke, but I remember, how is tasty fed me. About bruises did not ask. Sat opposite and, having propped up hands a chin, looked, how I eat. I tried to "correspond".
In the autumn her garden has been covered by apples, she did not collect them, she liked they on trees and on the earth. And I greedy filled the pockets - how many could carry away, and dragged in children's home.
All has stopped in one day when I by nonsense took the schoolmate with myself. He, toadying to seniors, "has handed over" me. With jealousy or because of even that, but seniors have forbidden me to go to the teacher. Most likely with envy. I, likely, too have forbidden on their place. I remember a picture. I leave for ever, I look back - she is on the threshold of the house, and a rainbow behind the house... I moved back a back forward to remember this moment for ever.
How she now, the kind person? Whether she is live? I am so grateful to her for care and the relation to me, absolutely still to the small, weak, not taught little man. It is a shame to me, but I do not remember neither her name-patronymic, nor a surname. It was small. Forgive me,dear teacher. As it is important, that on a way of the child with hard destiny there were as much as possible such good people, with simple relation to life. It will be postponed in memory, really, and then will strengthen and will take out on good stirrups, will necessarily take out...
Dream about better life
I remember "a black" pond where we all children's home bathed. Then I have seen for the first time the dead man-drowned man. On a way back in children's home we briskly discussed him in a system (we always went a system, under a drum, with a forge). Now I try not to go on funeral, differently long then I am ill. I saw enough, especially when buried guys.
If just only know that life so is fragile. But then it seemed to us that life is an eternity. Only it is necessary to grow somewhat quicker to leave in other, best children's home. But children's homes, in the majority, were similar against each other. After check from Education management pigs directors have removed, all pigies have sent on a slaughter-house. I cried, as many pigies knew on names, itself fed, went for a drive on them. Later I did not cry any more even on the lost people - these are fruits of my "universities".
After settlement New me have sent in Sobinku, a small town under Vladimir. I knew I will not there long, waited for further "transfer" and therefore strutted about, a such stranger. Seniors, strangely enough, did not touch me, knew, what not them and to "put" to all affairs did not become - has carried. "Theirs" at them turned to the full extent. All envied me, I envied myself. And in vain...
I toiled there some months while solved,where I wil be sent. I didn't go to school, here and have received the first blank in education. But has decided that it is not guilty, others guilty, and dexterously then speculated with it. Since that moment I always studied as it is necessary, to be exact - it is bad. Then, already later, teachers always were unaffected by us, marks were exposed towards the end of a quarter or year more often, and "three" was the most good and desired. There are no, of course, we studied, but is somehow languid, were not zealous, what for? To eat and so will give, to sleep is where. Will not expel for bad study.
Strangely enough, it was the first children's home where me have never struck. And last...
Suzdal is a favourite city
I have brought Suzdal in the late autumn, in the evening. And I have got at once on "pass-check", in other words - on interrogation: who, whence, what for, why? So always meet in a zone.
Me have put to any overage to "steam" - for his service. He has sent me at once to erase the socks, I have refused, therefore there was a lilac bruise at me under an eye on which to me have there and then given consultation: if that, I have stumbled and have fallen... To "Fall" I there were often, as well as other schoolmates.
Children's home - model of the future army or prison life. Here the senior and strong fulfil on younger and defenceless technology of suppression of the person. How here to defend advantage and honour? As well as who will teach?
Our revenge to "tutors"
In children's home practically "tutors" had nicknames - small revenge of children had all. In children' home unmistakably chose nicknames and among themselves named only so, the deviation from "norm" was cruelly punished. We often provoked tutors to acts which certain reactions followed, came to light weak and strengths of character. If tutor will sustain a press and will lead adequately in this or that situation, means, all will be OK - normal will receive a nickname. And on is not present - and vessels are not present, receive that has deserved. That is why it is desirable, that with children-orphans the former pupils of "system" education worked. It is easier to them to understand internal "policy", in hierarchy of children's home. Children-orphans very often use unsophisticated people in the intrigues and "programs". And to give nickname seniors had the right only and already then through average transferred us as the instruction.
For example, directors of children's home named GF, on the first letters of a name and a patronymic - Galina Fedorovna, but then because of her love to a system, meetings have renamed into Riding breeches. The largest teacher had a nickname the Hen, at the small and old - Kapa. And so on. But there was a case when any of nicknames of seniors was not fixed to one teacher. It was Lyudmila Vasilevna Kasatova, truly kind and light person. She had no children and as we have then learnt, was ill a cancer of lungs.
There was at us one guy, Sasha Chizhkov who on the instructions of seniors deduced her from itself for a warm attitude to us, younger. We have learnt about it and have arranged to him once "dark": have covered with a blanket and have beaten. Then I got for it has strongly - me have spent through a system (as in the story of Tolstoi "After the ball"). And still for a long time scoffed over me - forced to stand at night on a bedside table on one foot with a pillow on outstretched arms...
All working and free time of Kasatova gave to us. Everybody loved her. When I happen in Suzdal, I go first on a tomb of Lyudmila Vasilevna. Light to her memory. Forgive us, Lyudmila Vasilevna, for all and all. Oh, if just could return to change...
Somehow to us to children's home arrived cinema-men from "Mosfilm". They were going to shoot film about the last century. We, practically everyone, approached for roles of children of poor men. The director told so. And still he spoke: "With eyes at children all is normal, we will remove".
During of shootings we stood in the field, on a wind, and the wind fingered ours poor clothes. We should look in the chamber and at children's home. Acted in film without doubles. But something at cinema-men was not took, and shootings have curtailed. The cinema with our participation and did not leave on the screen. And it is a pity. It seems, on the same technology "Wounded" filmed. Children from the present children's home play the difficult childhood very truthfully...
Seldom when at night in children's home everyones were not made corporal punishments.I always waited night with fear. Per day the task was always given to us: to get on 20 copecks (decent sum for that times) for seniors. Stole all. If has not brought the stipulated sum, at night you judged. Always there was a judge, the lawyer, the public prosecutor - from seniors, the executioner from averages - so they were "covered" for "growing", each time for a role of the executioner chose other average... Then, when averages became seniors, they could not adjust the relation with new averages any more. Who will forgive cruelty? And younger, passing in the category of averages, revenged for the humiliations in what not to the guilty new younger.
Such here a wheel.
As passed "court". All took seats in the places, and "process" began. Seniors played "judicial system", and we waited a sentence. We were as in the present court, last word during which time we is oath was given promised to bring money. We answered: when will bring, then we will forgive... You ask, whence such knowledge at boys from children's home? We were visited often by the former pupils, were stay their times, they and imparted experience.
I remember Jura Piskunov who always brought the stipulated sum or even more. He "worked" at the next school. For his diligence seldom banged. He was very cowardly. Happens such in character - congenital cowardice, the person in it is not too guilty at all. And still he was all any nervous, and the person and hands - thin, as at the girl. And very plaintive physiognomy. He skilfully "strove" the person when it is necessary.He could begin to cry without preparation, without resorting to the help of the cut onions. We, if it is fair, even respected him for resourcefulness and ability to live for another's account. Still he rushed in feet and bent so that it was awkward to kick. The person has adapted to cruel circumstances.
And so, subsequently Jura has wound off some terms forpickpocketing , his nickname was brisk - a gold pen. What is with him now - I don't know, but the closing date at him was "good".
On December, 3rd, in my birthday, I have expelled at night on street - have sent to search for 15 copecks. I did not know, where to me to get these unfortunate copecks and consequently villages in a snowdrift near to children's home, has solved - I will freeze to hell!
There was a neighbour who walked home from work. She has seen me and began to ask why I sit at night on snow, - she knew, who I and whence. I have fairly told to her that at me birthday,and I haven't "gift" for seniors. She has given me 20 copecks and has finished to children's home. Oh, how I rejoiced that has avoided the execution this time. In the morning the woman has come to children's home and has told to the director about a night meeting. The director has caused me to itself, has closed a study room from within and has beaten me with a heel of shoe. Then collected "council" of seniors on which of me have deprived of the TV for a month. And at night still I was properly belaboured.
Executions were various. For example, group fisticuffs, "flights" on a coverlet, night circulations by knees on an iron ladder (have prompted teachers)... Still it is a lot of that... Few times me sentenced for runaways to hanging. Hung up almost really, but something all prevented to bring matters to the end.
You ask, where there was a night nurse? She was simply afraid to rise in chambers, sat at itself and watched TV or slept.
Life defines consciousness
For some reason chambers with the senior boys and girls settled down on one floor, and instead of doors there were curtains. In each chamber from ten to fifteen children.
Almost all property in children's home was pre-war. New it was stored in a warehouse - on a case of check from a city board of education, Education management or Moscow. After arrival of chiefs GF gave us out flannel shirts. In children's home there was one carpet - in a corridor, moreover an oriental carpet in a study room of the director. Still there was a bobbin tape recorder and the black-and-white TV - almost always under the lock.
Before checks we licked children's home to shine. Probably, checking hygiene most of all interested.
We dressed badly, we wore clothes of seniors. Our linen keeper Lyudmila Ivanovna often cried, it was a shame to her before townspeople that we such ragamuffins. She altered, darned our clothes, edified sleeves. Was considered that younger are not necessary in good clothes - all the same will tear, because work long hours. And what for to children to wear nice?
All had personal numbers on hands, as in a concentration camp. My number - 61. I shudder by now, when I hear this figure... All of us carried identical velveteen jackets of the fortieth years and checkered coats. When it was necessary to wash clothes, it was just simply removed from us, and there is nothing to change clothes - go in what it is necessary. The word "sweater" I have learnt after 25 years, and after all in the street at times there were 30 degrees below life... Lyudmila Ivanovna - the fair and kind woman, she wanted to leave, but and has worked before children's home disbandment.
Both firemen we, and grooms
We here again worked long hours, to exhaustion that went to a damage to study. And to work was where. A kitchen garden, a garden, a hothouse... It was necessary to look after pigs, for a horse the Boy. Boy was torn to mares in spring - bouncers at night a stable door and left. We found him, caught and "put" back in a stable.
Then, after eight years, this stable seniors have burnt on a drunken feast. Has burnt down a lot of hay, pigs were lost, but a horse had time to deduce. Who has burnt a stable, we knew (seniors on a drunken feast), but were silent. Groom Vasja was kindest of all employees, or so it seemed to us - when person all time is silent, means,he is kind. He was always drunk, and struck from him cologne so, what even the horse at times twisted a muzzle and beat a hoof.
On a stable of Vasya were the mountain of empty small bottles from under "Cucumber" or "Threefold" always piled up, and he took a siesta constantly in hay. Cooks felt sorry for Vasja and carried to him I go to a shed, on snack... And Vasya had butt with cabbage and cucumbers prepared in a cellar. Few times we closed the groom in his cellar - let eats to a sailing, we too kind, as cooks.
The children's home was heated by own antediluvian stokehole. Kolya fireman was drinking is even purer than groom Vasya and consequently was kinder"than him. He was seldom saen on a workplace, more often we replaced him - heated coal. Sometimes, when the fireman did not dry out long, we not only unloaded some tons of coal in stokehole, but also were on duty for him in shifts so, did not study. Having understood it, "firing" then steels seniors, having taken with itself somebody from us. And coal which brought, it was necessary to clean in stokehole quickly, for a night, differently at night local residents all will plunder. Houses all wooden to heat there is nothing. And to orphans - greetings! Morning of a callosity were bloody, but we very much were proud of labour"feat". Because of callosities to hold a pen there was no possibility, and we sat under school desks or cleaned potato in children's home. And somehow we worked in collective farm - cleaned stones from fields. On the obtained money should go to Moscow, on excursion. Then in a study room of the director there were new chairs. On them we have not gone to Moscow - inconveniently.
Not the, take...
Some tutors dragged from children's home products, and everything that will be sprained under a hand.
For Vasily Vasilevich (I don't remember a surname) carried home potato clearings to pigs. So he hid a good potato under it. All knew that he steals, but he was the front-line soldier. Hardly that - punched a head and shouted: "I was at war for you, decayed in bogs, your mother..." And so on. Often he came on watch drunk, or drank vodka on a workplace. And then it was simply furious, shouted and drove all kicks on children's home. We hid from him who where. "Dir" few times spoke with him, but he came next day in awards and medals, and to him all said goodbye. One time in his change "has taken out kitchen". He has seen that itself is guilty in heedlessness, and has appointed the first comers guilty. To the director was it enough. Us began to call "sausage makers". We and really have taken out all sausage from refrigerators and have fed dogs so we were a pity of them.
Came from Moscow wishing to adopt, more often because of living space expansion. Took one boy, then he in the autumn undressed, came back in children's home on foot 400 kilometres. Adoptive fathers have accused him of larceny, in inability to live in a family and so on. Wanted to take somehow and me, but I posed such physiognomies that to people became feel sick. If I only know that it is necessary to worry and see, would go to any family and would do other person - better so, than about a jamb...
However, to one girl, Marina Pelevinoj, has carried, it have decided to take to Italy. Also it is necessary such to happen, before departure she was going for a drive from a hill, has got a splinter into to herself. Thought -she will not leave. But Italians waited, till heal, and have taken away her. She was a beautiful little girl, as a doll...
The house in which we lived
It would be desirable to tell about the house especially. This former monastic hostel of a XVII-th century. An ancient thick-walled building with a crack around a toilet at girls (therefore in the winter all went to one). Someone for little girls while on it was found out, spied. However, then have found other way to spy, from a pigsty-stable roof...
Quite often I got under a floor of our house. Searched and found for various coins of the last times, any ancient bagatelles - hairpins, for example. I dreamt to find a treasure for ever to solve a question with seniors, "to give for all" that did not touch us... Many dreamt of a treasure. But, of course, anybody has not found any treasure. And it is a pity. Perhaps our childhood would be not such "salty"... At children's home there was a bath, very old. The senior boys liked to go to wash together with the senior little girls. The director, she GF, named their grooms and brides, but resolved. However to us with our coevals it refused.
Let's die for sports
Though there wasn't the rate of physical hand in children's home and for physical culture answered the director of studies,we all loved sports. And where you will get to? Especially loved football - seniors against younger, hockey and boxing. We often acted at various competitions - younger in defence, seniors ahead. Sometimes lost, but it is the extremely rare, as knew consequences - at night we beat rigidly and "particularly". Sports pears and shells in children's home was not. From sports equipment only sticks, the skates yes pair of balls have put me with a stick, in a plastic mask, in two coats and valenka in gate. We played against "muzhiks", and I have passed a washer. One of seniors has approached on me and has backhand struck a stick on my elbow. I have kept silent, we always were silent, when us beat - such is the law: the boy - means, suffer, such "general contract"... After the game it was impossible to take off a coat from me - so the hand has swelled. It was necessary to cut a sleeve. I told doctor that I have unintentionally got a washer. It suited her, doctors always waited for similar answers,that was so more conveniently to her - it is not necessary to understand. In the evening I have not touched. Though we have lost, I already was the victim, in plaster. It is possible to tell, I was carried...
I have staid ammunitions five-seven years as a goalkeeper in coat and valenoks -, before power change. Especially we loved "Russian entertainments" - dropping from an ice slope: seniors above, and we an attack clear the bar. Threw off us anyhow - feet, hands... Perhaps then I have ceased to be afraid of blows and a pain. In boxing it is important - not to be afraid, as cruelty of the anything against cruelty of strangers...
Then I have broken other hand - have fallen from height to snow, and there a stone. From outside also you will not understand at once that occurs - one climb, others beat. Still the senior put stones in snowballs and threw in us. Time I have got to a head so there was a following scar. But "the gas chamber" was top of all mockeries. At first it were garbage containers in which we were put, showered there a smoking match boxes and the set fire tennis ball. We something closed from above, and we should suffer. Later have found the present tight box in which transported insane persons. Oh, and it is a lot of to people in her found room...
There was one among seniors which liked to put on us experiences. For example, forced to drink photosolutions (fixer) and observed, how operates. As laxative the photosolution was irreplaceable. I fiercely hated these experiences, but suffered, said I feel good. Then the torturer added still... Such a kind guy, we have given him the nickname "Gestapo". So seniors had nicknames in reply to their cruelty. Having learnt about it from "informers", senior more often steels to spend night "courts".
For purpose to less often see children's home and seniors, I have registered in all what it is possible, sections and studios. Sang in chorus, played spoons, was engaged in football, boxing...
Once during classes of chorus someone has stolen money from a pocket of the director of club. I have stolen not, but I have accused and have driven out. I even wanted to be hung up. After all even witnesses were that I have stolen. So it will be then frequent: boy from children's home - means, the thief. But we are not kleptomaniacs, life forced us to live so, instead of differently. The thief, by the way, have then caught, from "house". But nobody has come, has not apologised before me, yes I and did not wait for it.
I remember, any mummy went abroad in business trip and on ignorance has left to us the son. GF has made the promise that all will be good, but seniors so did not think... He has run away the next day and veins at distant relatives - was ready to live anywhere, if only not at us...
About what, the guy, you cry?
Often there came chiefs - students from the Vladimir teacher training college. They came to drink mulse, to play with us in football,to yell drunk songs "About fogs". Also left with children's home papers where their work was estimated only on "excellent" so it was convenient to all.
When Leonid Ilich Brezhnev has died and declared mourning, the Hen has got all with shouts: as she will live further, she too sick kidneys, as at Brezhnev. We "consoled" her supposedly music at her funeral will be same...Then died Joe Dassen, Vysotsky. I even cried, but is faster not on them, simply there was an occasion...
In pioneers me have not accepted, as well as in October children. I was all the time "by cash desk". And when there was a question on reception in Komsomol, we have beaten Komsomol organizer which has told, what for having taken a hand in heart, that boys from children's home are unworthy to be in Komsomol.
We, pioneers, - children of workers?
We waited Pioneer camps as rescue, as possibilities to leave from problems and cruelty in children's home at least for the summer. We easily "planted" kind Young Pioneer organizers on kindness. Now I would ask for them pardons.We used their decency. But whether is ichildren-orphans's fault in that? At times it seems to the adult that the child doesn't understand the kind relation, but the child specially causes in the senior "kindness" and use it, unfortunately. Tutors of camps could not understand, why some days before departure we stopped eating, went hungry, pale. They thought that we long, we do not want to leave them. Naive, light people.; I have visited, probably, in forty different pioneer camps, but everywhere there were bad toilets full of holes. In camps I was named the Sashka-actor - for my abilities to sing, dance, play performances.
I played Andrey Mironov in "Twelve chairs", Sashka Spiridonov played Anatoly Papanov. All were ready to drop from a laughter when we searched for "treasure" in chairs. I sang adventurous songs. I was then is happy, forgot that somewhere there are senior guys.I was sent to the south as the most tubercular. After returning I became multi-coloured from bruises - all seniors at a meeting with me necessarily gave a punch. So have solved on "meeting". All children's home has declared to me boycott that I took a steam bath in the south, and they here were answerable for me. Three months did not talk to me. However, some secretly approached and apologised: orders are not discussed. I with understanding concerned this fact.
Often local came, asked fighters in "army" for fight at stadium against varieties. Seniors conducted on fight of all. "Hundred-on-hundred" those times. And we in a system, near to uncles.
Someone from tutors has thought up "behavioural record books" for increase of progress and discipline at school. Such "hanger" could come to mind only to the enemy. To fill with all it have charged to seniors, their "council". Now they had untied hands: beat more strong, you are right - carry out educational functions..
Teachers saw that we are in bruises, but go "silk". What they cared about? Just only harness us to study. You do not know homework - got "stake" in a record book. They knew or guessed that us bang, but bent the line. Pair of teachers, truth, refused to put marks, for what him low bow.Analysis of "flights" was evenings. We again judged, appointed punishment.
When the Hen gave to seniors the task: here with that and that learn that and that - she could be assured that seniors will execute all in time and "qualitatively".
I don't know, who has complained to Moscow of such education, but check arrived from capital. We have constructed, have undressed. Checking have examined us, have fixed all traces of our "falling". Seniors too stood nearby and too for some reason undressed. The director has called in all "check" on tea-vodka where justified that we very sports and like mad. We were silent, gave out nobody. "Check" remained is happy with check, has a little scolded the director that we so go in for sports much and often we fall. After that the first runaways have begun. We simply did not trust in justice any more. We left in runaways on one, on two.We were beeng in hiding for three-four weeks. We were caught, put in reloading points. Local tutors raged there. We were not their wards, therefore snapped in the answer. I remember, I somehow even beat off from one tutor with the iron. We have no need to be afraid of them, after all further children's home will not send though here to stand for myself...
Strangely enough, those who ran, then adapted easier, attached in life, probably, during runaway they received "education". So!.
It was necessary to send all in races, such educational program for children-orphans...
Each returning from runaway was accompanied by deadly fear. All waited night - we and seniors.
I red somehow "Children of a vault" and wanted to write to the author, without knowing that he has died for a long time ago. Ridiculously. I read much, under a blanket with a small lamp, basically, truth, in pioneer camp, in children's home I had no time for it.
I would like to tell about one runaway especially.
The first runaway, not last...
Runners have told me by "mail" that in other children's home my younger brother is beaten up. Usually brothers and sisters did not hold in one establishment, was considered that they can create a clan. I have gathered and have moved in races too. Went at the nights along road. Ate that it is necessary, often stole in the markets. The militia had orientation on hands. I was caught - I have fallen asleep in bushes, having forgotten to clean feet from sidewalk, "kind passer-by" have informed and planted to them who have accepted me well, even wanted to take out on will in an empty tank from under compote, but I have refused. I was rubbed in trust to militiamen, have moved to pity them. They have relaxed. I loafed on call center asked something as blind and have one fine day left in runaway and from them... That is called: from the grandmother I have run, and from the grandfather, and from you, cops, for a long time I will leave...
When I have reached a place,it was all the same to me, as in this children's home there are seniors, knew: "stranger" are not touched, such law. I have found my brother at once... He sat Under a table and cried. I have asked him not to ache, and it is better to show, where this Pots. Pots was a big boy, on a head above me. I running start have given to him where it is necessary... Also has started to "wet". Nobody interfered, all knew that "move" - "time on time". I tried to beat more feasibly that healed after my departure longer.I something shouted to him already lying in blood, - so it was accepted...If he would "take" - he would make the same with me... The Law.
Then I lived three weeks on a mow, they carried meal for me. But someone blabbered, and has arrived Vasily Vasilevich has arrived for me (I do not remember a surname). When we sat down on the Vladimir electric train, all children's home has came to see me off - I was the hero. But I went back, "to the mines" where I was not the hero, and very much mourned in this occasion. I could ran away from "Vaska" but thenit would be even worse. Vaska drank all the way, something told to me about himself, and I looked out of the window... The brother did not touch any more, knew that he has a big brother, that I am - an animal. And it was truth. (The brother now sits, for a long time, for cruel beating in the street.)
After arrival the revenge was terrible - I have awarded "to sleep in a case" the whole month. All works were now mine: potato cleaning, bathroom washing, snow cleaning, cleaning of a pond from snow and so on. The director has beaten me with a heel. She shouted that she was badly slept, she has grown old because of me and was strongly spent for valerian drops. But all was transferred easily as I knew - for what. For monthly runaway, for the brother - it is possible and to suffer.
Our seniors have left children's home, average steels seniors, and we, accordingly bacame averages... It was heavy... We did not force,but persuaded and asked to work younger,we worked also - nobody refused. And we were often biten for it by seniors - for the soft policy against younger. Those knew about it and tried not to contradict us, helped as could. Therefore, when subsequently we became seniors, our relations with former younger developed well. Still we have pledged the first class: when we will be "above", will not touch younger. We have fulfilled this promise.
There were, the truth, those who wanted to change such situation. Have organised group cruel fight. Even militia caused. But we had time to beat "rebels". They have written note, and have translated in other children's home. There all became poor. Then some of rebels have planted for cruelty.
After such years of mockeries we did not respect tutors and simply ignored them: on everything that they spoke,we answered with silence.We declared them such lifelong boycott. Not all, of course, but to much. These people have simply died for us. At teachers of younger groups problems began to arise often. There were no young shots, and it was difficult to old employees to be reconstructed, many of them could not - have left children's home.
And through any time we became seniors. In children's home were "new usages" in which it was trusted hardly as cruelty passed from father to son were entered. Especially hated the director, wrote all that will come to mind on her, harmed fairly. After years I have managed to find her Suzdal phone, has called from Petrozavodsk. But it was found out, she has moved to other city. May be she became feel shame. It is good...
At school teacher have suddenly felt some cargo of responsibility for us. But we studied as badly, it was difficult to catch up with the program. I always loved history and the literature, in these subjects studied best in a class and always prepared only for these lessons. When there were demonstration lessons, I could recite long poems or monologues from prose, it was pleasant to schoolmates - it was not necessary to prepare. The teacher of the literature Nina Timofeevna Toneeva supported me in every possible way and in general looked at me as mother (though I don't know, how mother look at), but probably so - in a kind way, with participation as Nina Timofeevna looks. And now, when I happen in Suzdal, I visit her by all means.
All has come to an end
Now nobody beated younger for absences. Tutors tried to collect "active", but we did not go on contact, have only arranged in the answer indicative all hunger-strike - some days did not eat with all children's home, to the director even it became bad.
We did not in general have ceased to operate younger, punished for thefts at the or "lawlessness", but not beating, with work. When there came the former graduates, the children's home was left all - anybody did not want even to greet them, were going to beat them, but nevertheless were afraid - many of them had knives with themselves... We had too, but all of them are more senior, more strongly, and memory of their "affairs" has not disappeared yet.
Tutors complained them of "difficulties" in education, but could do nothing with us already. We only even stronger played mischievous, for example, cut a bag at the Hen or enclosed any mucks to teachers on chairs. Closed them in a study room on half-day.
Once graduates suited a drunken feast on a mow. We, having learnt about it, have bolted them. They have got drunk and have set fire to hay. We waited, when they will start to shout? But they have managed to get out from a mow, it is a pity... Already after the ending of children's home I would like to find each of our torturers and to punish, for example, to shoot. But life of many has punished itself, or is more true - God.
There is no possibility to tell about all cruelties, and it is necessary to regret those who will read these lines, to keep hearts of kind people...
Before release the director has collected all and has told: never marry the orphan, you will have a hard time with them... But we did not listen to her any more, we would like more likely on will, on freedom which became deadly for many of us.
We were given out on twenty roubles, seasonal clothes and have brought to the first TECHNICAL TRAINING COLLEGES. Tutor Vladimir Evgenevich Koroteyev has given me one more "red" and has shaken hands at parting. There were tears in his eyes. Then I didn't understood why, I understand just now: he felt a pity to me that I leave in anywhere. He then himself has soon left in anywhere - has died, he had a cancer...
In the first I was put in school have defined in a hostel, have given out ration, products. I have eaten at once all week stock. How could I know to it was for a week? The senior pupils have come, have beaten out a door in a room, tried to confiscate meal, but I have received a chair and radio on a head. My big brother studied in a school, he always carried a knife with himself, as well as many other things. As the TECHNICAL TRAINING COLLEGE was variety, between varieties and "habzajts" from a city always there were fights. In the first I has got to one such knifing, with murder. I have given a knife and have told: when there will arrive militia - be a witness (with a bloody knife in hands!). I had enough mind to throw out a knife in an oven and to run away.
Fights sufficed. That top "took" habzajts ", varieties. Fight"hundred-on-hundred"- at stadium was especially favourite entertainment. I got time and again in such fights - simply horror. Here, in the TECHNICAL TRAINING COLLEGE, I have seriously continued to be engaged in boxing and carried a nickname the Boxer. Then fists often helped to solve problems not only in the TECHNICAL TRAINING COLLEGE, but also on fleet.
On a submarine - the house
I was taken army in the winter, have told that I will be the tankman, and has got on fleet - there was not necessary growth too. When on vocational school; in Vladivostok I was asked, where I want to serve: "over" or "under" water, I have told "under". Me have thrust in a pressure chamber and have given three atmospheres of pressure. Has born. Have sent in training unit.
I therefore wanted to get on the submarine because of, on conversations,there was less violence against younger conscripts in the army. The mistake left... Also there I was torpedist. It was easier to me on fleet than for others. I can tell one - the submarine is very similar to children's home - there is no place to disappear from it. In a boat all is yellow, all compartments, as life in children's home.
And again freedom
And here at last a demobilisation. Day when it is possible to come back home has come. And where is my house? Where I go, what to do? On fleet people came from the Moscow nuclear institute,they called us: that's already all the same to us they thought supposedly. There is no, a pipe! I had got on a train "Moscow - Murmansk", but has not reached to a terminal point, has descended in Petrozavodsk. I came in shape to culture school. Have made room in a hostel, began to live. Privileges - a zero, I was already more than twenty three, orphaned guarantees has left on fleet. And so and veins... I could not remove any habitation, was not able, and has not got money. After the ending of school me have expelled from a hostel, and I lived three years in shops and in stalls. The director of school and the commandant have not lodged me, though I asked, begged them, showed the inquiry. I began to work on several works at once. Slept in shop or a stall at night. Sometimes spent the night at friends, but all time you can't strain friends, they have their own life.
I have replaced much works. Not because it was not sat on a place, there were circumstances about which not time to speak. I haven't had residence permits some years, I have no till and now, and without a residence permit - what work? ! undertook for "everything that will give". Training og children's home helped, I not only did not give a sign that to me it is the extremely difficult, but thus dews professionally, so and in the price.I didn't go in high school to study , was afraid something to miss. There have just come changes, it was necessary to choose - to waste time for study or strengthening of positions in a city. I have chosen the second... Also it has appeared the rights. Many, having graduated, have appeared specialities which have they are not ready to changes, and, remained unclaimed. Vouchers, defaults are all has passed by me, without having touched, as I had nothing.
At new acquaintance people met ме and more often meet me inadequately -who is this lamp of energy? But I cannot differently , I should make up for lost time for short term, something that I have lost till the birth.
Meeting with Clara Luchko
So happens that at one time I worked in a state philharmonic society, was the exit manager: it was wound on areas, did so-called "ches". It should be organised from seven to nine concerts for a day. Actors worked as damned, my problem was - to provide with their habitation, a food that was possible to me well, children's home experience sometimes in something helped.
I was suggested to invite Clara Luchko on tours. I have badly carried on with her telephone negotiations, worried, told truth about trains... Then the madam L. undertook it. Clara have brought to Petrozavodsk... I accompanied her in trains to Sortavala, Pitkyaranta. We spoke with Clara Luchko much "for life". She told about herself, I about the past in children's home. She has appeared very attentive listener. And already in Moscow has told: "Sasha, you must be engaged in orphans and write the book about itself, you will write..." That I have gone with Clara to Moscow, has spent money for more best train, gifts, I was dismissed without the fee and the salary. But for me was all the same, I already knew,in what I will be engaged... I am grateful to God for a meeting with this great woman. For short term of the dialogue, any two-three days,she could answer on many questions for me, define and aim at important issues and fulfilments.
I went to church always. Stood at an input and looked at priests, on icons... I never had desires to expose forward a palm for alms. (Always I watch leave vagabonds: why they live so?) but something pulled me in church, uneducated, dark, at times wishing to resign live in this world. In due course the belief question has found important sense for me. In thirty two years I was christened, so it was necessary for God. If the belief was with me earlier, all would be for certain differently. But the desire to live on truth is too Belief. I tried.
Looking back, I can tell that whatever difficulties to me should be worried, I am not a pity a sevond I lived on this earth. I tried and try to live as much as possible fairly and truthfully. A question for what and for the sake of what I live, has disappeared for a long time. I live for others. For the sake of others. And for the sake of memory of the children's home friends. I live for the sake of those who went, goes and will step into this light earth. With joy and for joy. There will be always live gratitude in my heart and gratitude to the people frequently absolutely extraneous, unfamiliar which at times business, sometimes a word, and sometimes and a sight managed Good in my child's soul, did not allow to die away to belief in it in my salted with tears childhood. These people did not interest, whether I had a residence permit, who I am and whence, who I am under the social status... It were simply kind people who have met on my way.
It's a miracle that after years it is possible to look back and recognise errors, to forgive the enemies, to pay a tribute of honour and cleanliness of separate persons. Thanks to which I go further.
About a dog
Recently has picked up in the street a dog, she was beaten-interrupted. It is visible that house, thrown by the owner (this treachery is difficult to understand for me).
When the dog has appeared at my place, I was not ready to it. As a result of vagrancy she has ceased to understand commands, she was malicious,"went" in a room on corners. Solved long, to give or leave. I have not enough time, and her "whims" were not on me. Has given announcements in newspapers, there was a silence in answer. If I have given her to "the dog shelter", nobody would tell me anything, it's all the same for everybody... But she was as the child thrown by parents. I have left her...
And may be, it is she has picked up me? After a while I found good owners for her. But once, having come home, has found out her on a place, she has returned to thank.
Personal, very much
For a long time I painfully think: whether to send "the Salty childhood" to mother? I do not know...
Suzdal - Petrozavodsk 2003