Читать книгу Heart-to-heart letters: to MrRight from CCCP - Larisa Kharakhinova - Страница 1

Syberia, summer`89. I finished studying in University and was going home. One day one guy knocked my room in hostel. He was of leaders in our young communists organization. Quite pretty guy, spick-and-span.

– Hi, girls! Is there Larisa here?

– Here I am!

– I heard you`re going home, to Ulan-Ude?

– Yes, in days.

– Have you bought a ticket?

– Not for a while yet.

– I have a favour to ask of you

– What about?

– The fact is that – three germans came here in cultural exchange, from Leipzig. They want to the Lake Baikal. Could you accompany them to Ulan-Ude? But there – you must find how to get them to The Lake. We bear all expenses.

– Oh, yes!

– But here is one nuance – they are too capricious. They don`t like our dish, our hostel, mosquitos and, generally, our town in their eyes – solid wilderness. Not so civilized like cultured Europe. They disgust Syberia. They turn up noses at all and don`t want to associate (i.e.drink) with us.

– They disgust Syberia!?! And where have your germans dug in? Address, please! I`ll «acquaint their faces with table». We`ll see who is «cultured» here. I`ll compel to love every gnat in our wilderness.

– Please, more gently! We also, are going to Leipzig in exchange. How we`ll be met there depends on that how much these guys love this trip on the Lake.

– Well, I`ll try not to sully image of Motherland, I`ll put up a good show, being dragon, but devilishly charming one.

I saluted jokingly and made magnificent gesture type of knick-knack by hand, then turned round on the heals and went to create this `devilish charm` on my face for conquering germans.

Guests from Leipzig stopped at our student`s hostel. I knocked at the door and heard: “Herein!”

My sciolism in German was from childhood. Movies, movies, movies – of Second World War. And so, every «ich-bin»-phrase begot slightly bellicose mood. And maybe because of this ABC-reflex or something otherwise, some merry boldness suddenly has come on me, – I decided to play like in movies.

«Proud «Uberalles»? Well, I`ll remind you of The Spring-45! All these knights will fall in «sous l’ombre d’un klukva majetueux.»

Almost by kicking – I flung the door and «with corporal steps» came in the middle of the room. Standing in pose «a la Gestapo» – from well-known movies – (feet are hip width apart, arms behind the back, nose slightly up). I slowly look round this Trinity with leaden stare, in which I industriously put in maximum of mocking neglect, – not less than 9 grammes. Then, raising a little my right eyebrow and slightly frowning the left one – I enunciate like an iron commissar – in hanging silence:

– Guten Tag, genossen! My name is Lara. Ich! Bin! Lara! Who doesn`t like mosquitos here – please, hands up! Who`s not understood – hande hoh!

Three guys stiffen in astonishment, looking over this strange subject who has burst into their room in the `midmorning` and demands to lift their hands up. Then they slowly exchanged glances and began to smile.

– I`m directed to you from Committee. If you not against – I`ll be your guide and get you to the Lake Baikal. You must obey me – implicitly! Step to left – step to right – shooting – without warning! Questions?

They were not against, they were impressed by my `devilish charm`. But alas, my fount of eloquence was wasted in vain. Only one of them can speak Russian freely. And we went through the Syberia,in international company, playing cards, chess, chuck-a-luck, etc…

People in the carriage were looking through the windows upon our bewitching endless expanse. They admired aloud, somebody was shooting a film. While I looked at his kamera, another fellow in very white vest passed by me. I turned my head purely by reflex – that irreal white spot fell within my view, – all people around were in `march-in-field-colours` – but this «dude» made his defile in such a defiant snow-white vest, which – on his suntanned and straightened shoulders – looked «Super-Upper». And generally, all his slim body impressed like «das ist fantastisch!».

Later I saw him in our roomette. And we got acquainted, due to my germans. They told me that `this boy is riding in this train from Canada`. I amused a little with this `train-from-Canada`.

And here – I began to stare at him. It was the first human specimen from the ocean which I saw nearby. However, quite handsome specimen! Only – not a word in Russian. And my English was effaced from the memory, just after exam 3 years ago. Because of its complete uselessness.

His name was Brad.

What impressed me from the first sight – his eyes. His look was not such as of our guys, not like of germans. There was openness of some another strange `format` there in, unlike those I ever saw before. Such crystal-clear unprotected openness – it took my breath away when I met with his eyes – slightly sad, but the same time – mischievous – in the depth of them amused `micro-devillets`. And this `crystal-clear unprotectedness` was fraimed by such bent downiness of cilia – flapping by which he could drive away light-winged butterflies flying on such devilishly magnetic lights of his pupils which must be black like any respectable pupils, but his ones shone, not only in light of lantern on platform where we went to walk, but also in light of the stars above our heads.

Language barrier was overcoming with difficulties. Nevertheless, I knew that Brad was from Vancouver, he was 19 and went from Moscow to Nakhodka, from there – to Tokyo. I strained all my residuary convolutions to winkle out that little of English which remained in memory and tried to compensate shortage of vocalulary by gestures. However, in youth people understand each other easier. It`s enough that heart was alive and eyes not sleepy.

Then we exchanged with addresses and said `bye-bye` to each other. In the morning I came down from the train and he went on further. We parted …

In Ulan-Ude I dove in life of a young specialist on the armament factory. If someone that time would asked me : «Do you know what is Hades?» – I would answer without a bit of hesitation – «Yes!!! – It is our mechanoerecting workshop!» It was rumbling behind the wall which divided, not saving nobody of us – from its terrible roar. All conceivable and non-conceivable sounds of metal-to-metal interaction – clank, squeak, howl, scream – in ultrasound, knock, grind, repeating over and over again – didn`t stop – not for a minute. It was impossible to get accustomed to that. Sometimes I wanted greatly to become completely deaf, – such beyond all bearing! This continuous rumble blocked my ears, pulsated in temples, beated in occiput, cinciput, in all my head, which replied with terrifying migraines.

Deaf and almost dead I returned in hostel and fell down on my bed trying to relax this painful spasm in head. At night sleeplessness or nightmares tormented me. It all repeated day by day, from morning to evening. And no gleam could be expected in nearest 3 years which I had to work out there as a young specialist.

…And life in the country was very same as our mechanoerecting workshop… Perestroyka… Agony of The Great Empire… There was being broken Her backbone… and all conceivable and non-conceivable sounds of Hades resounded in aether. And also it blocked our ears and souls. Also there was a wish to become completely deaf. And there was sleepless the spirit, restless in anguish – amid awry reality of that time. And our, formerly, Victorious Spring-45 was advancing to December-91 of Belavezha Accords, which ment disintegration of USSR… breakdown of `The Great Empire`…

The only distraction was reading. One day I saw by chance a luxurious green book. It was the Big English-Russian dictionary, second volume. I bought it and immediately felt inspired with studing English. What for? Simply… And here I had remembered about Brad, like in far away fog, as if long – long ago we walked with him along the carriage on that night platform.

Looking in my new dictionary I wrote the first message and sent it to Canada. After that my heat faded away. This epistolary feat of arms exhausted my creative ardour.

But in pair monthes I received my first epistle from behind The Iron Curtain. And there appeared cheerfully-sinister thought – «Well, for now I`m under observation of KGB…» (`Cause of the armaments factory of mine).

Such was beginning of our correspondence, between two opposite worlds.

There appeared fervour. The factory already didn`t seem of Ninth Circle. In contrast to this Hades – there appeared second pole of reality which drew all my attention. Letters became necessary as the breath of life. I lived with them – from one to another. They, those letters from-out `The Iron Curtain`, changed my hopeless reality of those days, bringing there in – spirit of the game and courage of the careless youth. And my life was in them. And there glimmered my spirit, warmed by this irreal passion.

Our correspondence began as «Is there life on the Mars?» Such far-away and strange seemed his world to me. Which was the «happy-end» – read on further.