When I was 9 months old, they packed up their belongings and left for the city with me in their arms. It was not even quite a city, so … a working village.
Oil was found on the Volga. My parents came to build a new city.
City - oil workers.
We settled in a barrack.
The barrack is a "temporary" shield structure. Ten rooms and a shared kitchen.
All.
The toilet is outside.
The barrack is like a large communal apartment.
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We, small children, were bathed in galvanized troughs in the shared kitchen. They cooked food right there on the stoves, and then moved the tables and played bingo in the evenings.
If my parents were going to go to the cinema in the evening, they just put me in the sandbox and went to watch Fantomas. The whole barrack was watching me, and I was fiddling in the sand and playing "cars". It never occurred to my parents that some pedophile would appear and make me feel bad while they were in the cinema …
I suspect that they did not even know the word.
Then my brother was born.
I remember how my father and I went to the hospital to "look at my brother."
This maternity hospital still "works" as a maternity hospital.
In general, there were many children around.
Lots of.
In the evenings, when everyone was brought home from the kindergarten, the barrack again resembled a kindergarten: screeching, running, jumping, laughing and squealing.
We were happy!
When I finished the second grade, my parents were given an apartment in a new house.
My first impression: I went to the wall and iron it. I can't understand how so many flowers were drawn?
Mom explained, "This is wallpaper."
Yes, I first saw wallpaper on the walls. The walls were whitewashed in the barracks …
I was 9 years old.
Picture of the present day:
A young man hung with smartphones from a Mazda window says: Children? Yes you?! Why breed poverty ?!
The girl sitting next to him adds: We must first make a career, and only then maybe children….
Otherwise, really, why breed poverty ?!
"Produce poverty" …
Playing lotto with adults, in the common barrack kitchen, listening to the conversations of adults, I have never, never heard anything like it.
On the contrary, our children were surrounded by care and warmth. And all the barracks celebrated the birth of a new man. I don't remember families with less than two children.
Other country…
Other customs …
Other priorities …
Other people…
Where will this lead us?
