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So tired like slaves просмотров: 249

This summer has been hot, there were events, there were conflicts. Sibir was fairing, cities and villages were drowned, boats were drowning, there were clattering near Archangelsk, two capitals had a hard time by political protests. It had been not only in the capitals, but the crowd was also keeping silence in provinces. The silence wasn’t apologized of course.


A province was overwhelmed again by a wave of contempt because their crowd is indifferent, stupid and milk-and-water. We are listening to ranting again, about how the crowd of the outback was born and live as slaves afterwards. The crowd was frightening again by “GULAG” (Main Administration of Camps) as like as punishment and as soon as immediate. Again, some progressives make their speech using words like “populace”, “nonsense”, “plebs”, “low-born Fae”. It’s disgustingly as there is disgustingly to live in that province at the same time.


It is impossible to see when peppy, gent, beautiful people cry shame upon one-legged men because they don’t want to join them for running into the doubtful bright future.


I visit my home in Perm every year. Every year, I stay there from three weeks till a month and a half near Motoviliha – one district from the oldest districts of the city. Perm is a trivial typical province with crooked alleys, crooked houses, and overgrown gardens – it’s a province which looks like the strongest concentrate.


Sometimes, if we live until a blessed time when life is wonderfully great whenever you are and, Motovidiha isn’t disappeared, then its spot will be enough to spread its soul anywhere again.


Motovidiha’s outskirts aren’t somewhat of a curse and the hell, it’s soon a world pantry where junk is laid what you don’t throw out there, because of it’s sad, as what you can’t repair. In a repaired flat of a seven meters length, a stale room is where are living a great grandfather, an Alzheimer’s patient, who is dying. It’s a very honest mirror of a Russian’s soul. It has little kindness but a lot of ugly and ill. The most important what disappointment and fatigue highlight a mirror of the province.


If ten, seven, five years ago people of Russian province believed in the opportunity of the good life and, were enthusiastically getting to build something of it, - their belief, their strength has run dry now.


I am walking along the street of my childhood. Tens of private houses are on the street. Only two beautiful houses are totally renovated. Everything was renovated by whole family’s members by children, by a son-in-law, by nephews, by cousins. They worked on holidays and vacations. People had made the best what they can make and they considered that they had success. They are almost positive for themselves for their life. Nearly but not completely. If chronic fatigue hasn’t taken place it would be wonderful.


Dostoevskii wrote about the well-disposed Deutsch burgers: they had been working like oxen, had been saving money like the Jews for twenty years afterwards, the Bird of Happiness should be caught. Our “well-heeled” people like this image. However, the bird of happiness hasn’t flown yet and it never flies because a garage hasn’t be done and a bathhouse hasn’t be built – their strength and money were ended.


A Russian provincial burgher vaguely feels what he tries to achieve something. However, it seems for him that better safe than sorry. He seems that a successful human’s position has no complaint, no sorrow. Yet, he has no strength to do something even to complain.


I am walking on the alley. There is a house in which, somebody invested … a much of soul - not a lot of money. There are beautiful platband, curtains, a sandbox at house, swings, comfortable benches. Near it, there are some flowers, flowers, and flowers again but these aren’t well-groomed yet. The paint pilled off even. It looks like they were trying to change the roof – they were not in time. If they have been in time I have no doubt that a housewife’s intention of making the world a bit better a bit comfortable spreads behind of own house.


Maybe, she would participate in the improvement of public children square or, she would someway expand the clinic. She might have success but … she died from a stroke that she had caught in a bus. Nobody paid attention that a woman can’t stand up from a passenger place even on the last stop – she was dead for some stops long. Her grandmother looks after her daughter.


Most of the story taught me only what people have not to spend their heart and their soul, what everybody should look after himself. Everybody has problems too many that he can’t even raise his own head.


Meanwhile, I am walking along the alley. Many houses are just thrown. Their windows were replaced by double-glazed windows five-seven years ago, roofs were been repairing, fences were been repainting. Previous owner’s grandchildren did it; I have remembered the grandchildren’s plans to renovate houses completely for changing their place to live instead of a small flat. It’s a good place to live, it has electricity, gas, water supply, a minibus is allowed yet, shops were opened – why is it a bad place to live?


People understood what their plans aren’t real – no time, no money because they had to work more and their salary wasn’t raised. They felt fear to start building by selling a house because the default can happen, there isn’t like peaceably. It’s sorry to help well-off people to build their house by selling own house because they pay you little money. Moreover, to build houses, there were free areas that were occupied by abandoned houses.


Some people have built an area up, where another people were growing potatoes; cottages are there now have made by foam blocks where nobody lives in half of them. They built ugly five-story buildings instead of formed corn fields – they say it’s social housing for orphans. Some stumps of felled trees are left and large garbage is on a meadow. The meadow has contained strawberries, goats have been grazed, and now there are and garbage and hogweed. In addition, nobody can fix it.


Some people write complaints, phone hotlines, go to deputies, try to fix by themselves but hogweed grows again and another people throw garbage out again. It’s like a vicious circle.


Different people (the second) of the first people, who try to fix any local problems, who already desperate to fix ones near their house though, call the first people to some barricades. The second people force the first people to resent the cloud of radiation from Severodvinsk or, to stand for the fair elections. The first people watch on the second people, who call them to do it, and shake their heads saying “No”. It’s because the first people are bewildered of life in the province, they map the second people, who make slogans, involving to join the vicious circle like some enchanted repeatability.


Ok. What is their offer? What is specifically? Is their offer to change a previous official to new one? Will the radiation of Severodvinsk and fire be gone away immediately? A-a-a, not immediately… Then what is this about, anyway? Are you going to form democracy? Are you going to get freedom?  It is like 90th, isn’t it? Do you sure that nineties won’t happen again because I don’t know where to grow my potatoes up. I don’t even know where to grew my goats.


“The democracy is wonderful of course, no freedom is bad”, people sigh, “please, give me concrete plans, do you have? Can I find any job? How much do they pay me for my job? Would the social payments not be disappeared totally? There isn’t any clear assignment. Just, no assignment.”


In addition, the crowd doesn’t like those oppositional politics speculate their penury. The crowd catches what they live as poor as a church mouse; they sleep somewhere like a cesspool; they have nothing to lose that it’s time to get angry. First of all, the crowd understands that current time is not the worst thing. Secondly, they see that if somebody see the world as one ball of the fifth or does like a fart in a colander – he is down-and-out, it’s sad when everybody is compared with them. Thirdly, almost everybody understands what penury can be so strong like poverty like extreme injustice. At this case, the crowd doesn’t angry yet – they become aggressive.


The democracy and freedom aren’t things of food riots, the democracy – is a conquest of the rich majority. A province doesn’t like to have an aggressive crowd.


People of a province don’t want to be aggressive. People want some changes in their life through an improvement in private life. Maybe, they struggle only for this. Yes, the action field is narrowed, the deal performs so small as meaningless. People make flower-beds using car-tires, weave doormats using plastic bags, glue birdhouses using wine corks; they try to sell and exchange their simple needlework yet. It’s sad. It has completely no fun. Another people from the capitals, who have success, make fun of a province because provincial people use these car-tires, corks and plastic bags. They make fun of them like if provincial people are insects. Somebody gloats and wishes to make big troubles for the province; they explain it that the provincial people should open their eyes to, the human dignity should be woken up.


Human dignity? People say about it after the idea of “prosperity” performed in a province with the most vulgar, perverted advertising slogans after that; when people earned some credits with interminable interests to have this “prosperity of life” after that; when startup bubbles busted, expensive cars were broken, renovated houses fell apart, and credits didn’t be paid out… People say of human dignity as it can be gained on the squares where riot militia officers punish you – it’s inhuman.


After all this, people have tired to have a horrible life. Furthermore, the slogans, the instructions, and the promises have made people tired too. People were upset and in the Future and in the Past. Future doesn’t look bright because people see no perspectives. Nobody offers any perspectives even. If this situation doesn’t be changed the crowd will do nothing. This situation makes no sound to complain.

- 0 +    дата: 13 сентября 2019

   Загружено переводчиком: Мулюков Рустам Равилевич Биржа переводов 01
   Язык оригинала: русский    Источник: https://www.gazeta.ru/column/yardaeva/12622597.shtml