Those wings... I want them too.
АнглийскийThe summer came, the weather got warmer and the idea to spend more time in the countryside started to look tempting. Especially, it looks this way when concerning the quality of Moscow air and my (subjective?) dissatisfaction with the amount of attention that our mom gets in my brother's family. Few days last week I spent with her in our summerhouse, and before that we went with quite a big company of relatives to working settlement Zemetchino.My mom and uncle lived there from time to time in childhood with their older relatives, and some of those relatives were buried there. Yeap, a post with graveyards and reasoning about family relationships is not likely to be full of continuous joy, but I'm afraid that the narration will go just this way. I'm sorry.
Zemetchino is located in Penza region, in 530 kilometers from Moscow. The road takes about 8-10 hours when driving there on a car. When my mother was girl, this settlement was surrounded by several villages, and her grandparents' house was located in one of them. She and her brother spent there several summer holidays, and possibly lived for a little bit longer (I didn't understand exactly). Her mother and father, however, didn't live there when they were married. They lived in many places ^_^.
Mom told that her father had heavy temper. He was married twice, often has conflicts at work, and consequently changed workplaces several times. That led to relocations and his family had to follow him. Finally, they settled in Snegiri, the town in Istra district in Moscow Region. My mother by that time entered the University in Moscow and moved to dormitory, later she was directed to a job here, found a boyfriend, became pregnant and got married. Thereby, the amount of people her dad was able to quarrel with has reduced. Later my grandma got fed up with her husband as well and returned to her mother, to the village house. She was fifty three when she suddenly died from vascular disease in 1981. It was hot summer, far countryside, lack of transport, and only horse with cart, and wooden cross were available at that time. She was buried in local cemetery, next to her brother and their dad. My great-grandmother was too old and she was taken to her relatives in Ukraine. However, there was somebody to care of the graves until recently.
Here are some old photos from my uncle's archive:
My grandparents
My grandma and great-grandfather
A village scene
This is my grandma with her two children
And nowadays my uncle looks like this:
The story in Snegiri was not too long and happy as well. My uncle with his wife (who was also disliked by my grandfather for plumpness and smoking) got a separate flat and moved there. His dad found some company to communicate with, continued to quarrel, got severely beaten, was taken to hospital and died there. He was buried near Snegiri, and my uncle and his family still live in that district until now. When my paternal grandfather and later my father and second grandma died, they found peace in the same graveyard spot.
Snegiri is much closer than Zemetchino. We often go to that area on the 9th of May; apparently, it's kind of family tradition. I use the word "often" pertaining myself, as my mom and brother go there almost annually. That's good to remember those who has left, and to visit relatives, but I feel a bit uncomfortable doing that, for some reasons. My parents family have good relationships with mom's kin, some common affairs, my father and brother used to take my uncle and his son to hunting... I often hear from them, what a good person was my father, how he was respected, how many friends he had, how he helped all of them, how he liked guests and communications... And I do not enjoy this words, unfortunately, because I cannot understand what good things this good person has made for me...
Well, nobody can be ideal for everybody. Possibly, we just turn towards different people with our different sides. And when I think about the side my father was turned towards me, it seems to me that this side was the back.
Actually, it's not a problem when you are living in parallel worlds with someone. But it is a different story when you have a few intersections, and almost all of them are negative. Frequent shouting can really poison life, especially when deprives you morning sleeping hours;loud TV in the evenings brings inconvenience as well; and all those complainings how awfully women in this family perform their household chores, reproaching this family for money that were earned for them with such difficulty, blaming this family for doing nothing at all (with no consideration of cooking, cleaning, washing, shopping, wallpapering, filing bills and country housekeeping, of course)... As a lazy, spoiled kid, who had no normal skills and thought only about getting good education, unreasonably fearing to remain on roadside of life without it, I still can't understand: if I didn't ask anyone to give birth to me, why should I worship someone for not letting me die from hunger? Particularly when physical survival is not the main question for the social ambience I was born in?
I have some other unpleasant thoughts caused by these visits; about the Victory Day, that looks like the celebration of Power, Vantage and Obduracy, but not the day of overcoming the greatest tragedy of the 20th century; about the feeling of darkness, stemming from my childhood and increasing when I observe welfare, satiety and serenity around me, while thinking about injustice and suffering in places located not so far, wondering, was not the first bought at the expense of the second; my personal envy and spite towards young, happy, light-hearted girls who always had all they need and never thought that live can be different... It all doesn't worth writing, I know.
Anyway, we visited Zemetchino the first (and may be the only) time, with the similar participants as we meet in Snegiri. I didn't take Vova, as it was a long voyage and I saw no point for him spending so much time. However, I felt that my mom wanted to go there, and that she would be glad if I join, so I went with them. My mom thought the road would be tedious, but I enjoyed it. I like long traveling, when I do not have to drive a car Just sitting, looking in the window, observing blue sky and green plans, chatting with companions, doing nothing... I'm lazy, I've already admitted it
Today Zemetchino is not a poor settlement. Many houses have new roofs, are faced with siding and hold one or two satellite TV plates. There is a Rosneft petrol station, Peterochka shop, I saw a girl passing the street with a pink iPhone in her hand... The house we stayed in had four rooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a bathroom inside, long hallway, nice interior and comfortable furniture. Its owners do not live there, they use it for renting only; their house is even bigger. They are trying to make farmer business, growing bulls. On the other location we saw a Miratorg wagon, came, judging by the smell, for pigs. All the people we met were eager to communicate, possibly being glad for guests from the another parts of the world, or may be just hoped to make new connections.
My mom said it is a rye field:
The roads, however, were awful. Those that come to Zemetchino were of low quality, the streets inside it were unpaved and very bumpy, and the roads leading to the old graveyard were just a nightmare. Almost all the villages around have disappeared, and it was not easy to find the cemetery hiding behind a grove. I liked the сreek we had to cross over, and the bridge above it was a little bit scaring but also interesting:
The cemetery was small and looked as poorly maintained. But it seems to be tidied up the previous year, and now there is a chapel, a warrior memorial and a capsule with a message to descendants, to be opened in 2067:
I will not post the photos of the grave, all the more we are not even sure that found the right one. The graveyard is old, a lot of crosses have neither portraits, nor nameplates, and my relatives haven't been there for too long. My uncle decided that the one spot was what we searched, brought it to order, my mom came a little bit later, said he was wrong, pointed out another place, we tidied it up as well... So, we cleaned two graves and are not confident that any of them was a correct one... Anyway, people were buried there, they probably made something good, somebody loved them, and they deserve memory...
That was a good travel, generally. I distracted from the noisy polluted city under my window, stoped chewing negative thoughts, saw a new place, communicated with my uncle's family. They are nice people, I believe
Zemetchino is located in Penza region, in 530 kilometers from Moscow. The road takes about 8-10 hours when driving there on a car. When my mother was girl, this settlement was surrounded by several villages, and her grandparents' house was located in one of them. She and her brother spent there several summer holidays, and possibly lived for a little bit longer (I didn't understand exactly). Her mother and father, however, didn't live there when they were married. They lived in many places ^_^.
Mom told that her father had heavy temper. He was married twice, often has conflicts at work, and consequently changed workplaces several times. That led to relocations and his family had to follow him. Finally, they settled in Snegiri, the town in Istra district in Moscow Region. My mother by that time entered the University in Moscow and moved to dormitory, later she was directed to a job here, found a boyfriend, became pregnant and got married. Thereby, the amount of people her dad was able to quarrel with has reduced. Later my grandma got fed up with her husband as well and returned to her mother, to the village house. She was fifty three when she suddenly died from vascular disease in 1981. It was hot summer, far countryside, lack of transport, and only horse with cart, and wooden cross were available at that time. She was buried in local cemetery, next to her brother and their dad. My great-grandmother was too old and she was taken to her relatives in Ukraine. However, there was somebody to care of the graves until recently.
Here are some old photos from my uncle's archive:
My grandparents
My grandma and great-grandfather
A village scene
This is my grandma with her two children
And nowadays my uncle looks like this:
The story in Snegiri was not too long and happy as well. My uncle with his wife (who was also disliked by my grandfather for plumpness and smoking) got a separate flat and moved there. His dad found some company to communicate with, continued to quarrel, got severely beaten, was taken to hospital and died there. He was buried near Snegiri, and my uncle and his family still live in that district until now. When my paternal grandfather and later my father and second grandma died, they found peace in the same graveyard spot.
Snegiri is much closer than Zemetchino. We often go to that area on the 9th of May; apparently, it's kind of family tradition. I use the word "often" pertaining myself, as my mom and brother go there almost annually. That's good to remember those who has left, and to visit relatives, but I feel a bit uncomfortable doing that, for some reasons. My parents family have good relationships with mom's kin, some common affairs, my father and brother used to take my uncle and his son to hunting... I often hear from them, what a good person was my father, how he was respected, how many friends he had, how he helped all of them, how he liked guests and communications... And I do not enjoy this words, unfortunately, because I cannot understand what good things this good person has made for me...
Well, nobody can be ideal for everybody. Possibly, we just turn towards different people with our different sides. And when I think about the side my father was turned towards me, it seems to me that this side was the back.
Actually, it's not a problem when you are living in parallel worlds with someone. But it is a different story when you have a few intersections, and almost all of them are negative. Frequent shouting can really poison life, especially when deprives you morning sleeping hours;loud TV in the evenings brings inconvenience as well; and all those complainings how awfully women in this family perform their household chores, reproaching this family for money that were earned for them with such difficulty, blaming this family for doing nothing at all (with no consideration of cooking, cleaning, washing, shopping, wallpapering, filing bills and country housekeeping, of course)... As a lazy, spoiled kid, who had no normal skills and thought only about getting good education, unreasonably fearing to remain on roadside of life without it, I still can't understand: if I didn't ask anyone to give birth to me, why should I worship someone for not letting me die from hunger? Particularly when physical survival is not the main question for the social ambience I was born in?
I have some other unpleasant thoughts caused by these visits; about the Victory Day, that looks like the celebration of Power, Vantage and Obduracy, but not the day of overcoming the greatest tragedy of the 20th century; about the feeling of darkness, stemming from my childhood and increasing when I observe welfare, satiety and serenity around me, while thinking about injustice and suffering in places located not so far, wondering, was not the first bought at the expense of the second; my personal envy and spite towards young, happy, light-hearted girls who always had all they need and never thought that live can be different... It all doesn't worth writing, I know.
Anyway, we visited Zemetchino the first (and may be the only) time, with the similar participants as we meet in Snegiri. I didn't take Vova, as it was a long voyage and I saw no point for him spending so much time. However, I felt that my mom wanted to go there, and that she would be glad if I join, so I went with them. My mom thought the road would be tedious, but I enjoyed it. I like long traveling, when I do not have to drive a car
Just sitting, looking in the window, observing blue sky and green plans, chatting with companions, doing nothing... I'm lazy, I've already admitted it Today Zemetchino is not a poor settlement. Many houses have new roofs, are faced with siding and hold one or two satellite TV plates. There is a Rosneft petrol station, Peterochka shop, I saw a girl passing the street with a pink iPhone in her hand... The house we stayed in had four rooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a bathroom inside, long hallway, nice interior and comfortable furniture. Its owners do not live there, they use it for renting only; their house is even bigger. They are trying to make farmer business, growing bulls. On the other location we saw a Miratorg wagon, came, judging by the smell, for pigs. All the people we met were eager to communicate, possibly being glad for guests from the another parts of the world, or may be just hoped to make new connections.
My mom said it is a rye field:
The roads, however, were awful. Those that come to Zemetchino were of low quality, the streets inside it were unpaved and very bumpy, and the roads leading to the old graveyard were just a nightmare. Almost all the villages around have disappeared, and it was not easy to find the cemetery hiding behind a grove. I liked the сreek we had to cross over, and the bridge above it was a little bit scaring but also interesting:
The cemetery was small and looked as poorly maintained. But it seems to be tidied up the previous year, and now there is a chapel, a warrior memorial and a capsule with a message to descendants, to be opened in 2067:
I will not post the photos of the grave, all the more we are not even sure that found the right one. The graveyard is old, a lot of crosses have neither portraits, nor nameplates, and my relatives haven't been there for too long. My uncle decided that the one spot was what we searched, brought it to order, my mom came a little bit later, said he was wrong, pointed out another place, we tidied it up as well... So, we cleaned two graves and are not confident that any of them was a correct one... Anyway, people were buried there, they probably made something good, somebody loved them, and they deserve memory...
That was a good travel, generally. I distracted from the noisy polluted city under my window, stoped chewing negative thoughts, saw a new place, communicated with my uncle's family. They are nice people, I believe
@темы: Визуальное, english writing skills, Жизненное
)
(And yes, I was again learning something and didn't wanted to distract myself...). 
)
