Colta.ru

“I like to say“ hello ”at the stations and do not like to say“ goodbye ”.”

"Career players", Mike Lee

I.

My mother threw me in a hostel with a large container of home cutlets, with some pans and a robe of such a vigorous color that at the competition of the most annoying female robes, I would definitely take one of the prize places.

My new neighbors - two thick, ruddy third -year students from the faculty of sociology - silently watched how I lay out things from my suitcase and awkwardly filling out the bed on the upper tier with home linen.

- Do you want cutlets? I asked.

There was no answer.

To myself, I was glad that no one agreed. According to my calculations, the cutlets should have been enough for three days.

In general, from the side of mom and dad it was quite mean-so many years to walk around on tiptoe and mumble something about “let the child study”, and then just bring it to a foreign city and throw it to survival with some kind of obvious purpose.

I knew nothing.

I have never washed the floors and dishes. I did not put on the fork. I did not wash my clothes. I did not cook food. I did not know how much the egg needed to cook, in which water I would put sausages and how to buy meat in the store. The view of the sex rags in the common kitchen caused a shudder in me, and the slimy pasta in someone else's pan - a gastric spasm. When on the second day they told me that rats live in the post -decoman, I vowed not to go there and was faithful to this oath for the next five years. I drove linen once every two weeks to wash a hundred kilometers from Moscow, to my hometown.

Mother later explained that the end of the school, my July 17th anniversary and admission to the institute came too suddenly. When on the third day I called with the question that I will eat when the cutlets end, the family was panicked. But the first trip to the store went quite tolerably - I immediately bought a large bottle of orange juice of cold spin for a third of all the money left and there was very pleased. A new life suddenly even ceased to seem so terrible to me. Until the neighbors asked to wash the floors.

“Shouldn't that a cleaning lady on the floor do it?” I asked.

- No. But you can call your mother, - one of them grinned unpleasantly. I looked at a bucket with a dried rag. Then on their sophisticated neighbors. And then she went out into the corridor, reached the duty officer and asked me to move me from evil sociologists.

“Forever, journalists, everyone offends,” the attendant grumbled. - There two freshmen move to the second floor, and one also from the journalism department. Let me ask if you can’t go there.

The next day, I stood in the doorway of another room-with a suitcase, a dirty container from under the cutlet, some kind of pans and a robe, about which one of my new neighbors-a thin, gloomy blonde-immediately said:

- P **** c is a color.

It was Latvka.

II.

Latvka was born on May 9. And I do not know more merciless to myself and people.

In fact, her name was Olya - just like me. But it was always strange for me to call another person with my name, so I almost immediately gave her a nickname. She was born and raised in Riga. She graduated from a perfectly Russian -speaking school, easily entered the Main Latvian University of the Faculty of Economics, studied there for a year and, unsatisfied with the quality of education, went to Russia.

Latvy had frightening performance and physical strength. Everything in it worked as a single mechanism: it turned off at the same moment as she went to bed, and quickly jumped up as soon as the alarm clock called. I was brought by her habit of breaking into the room, and I still remember the sound of her steps, which was heard from the corridor - she was approaching as inevitability.

Latvka did everything perfectly. She handed over the tasks in time, studied well, worked from the first year and did not miss classes. I was kicked out of lectures for cheating and scolded because of absenteeism. In the morning I opened my eyes, for a minute I watched the coal dressing gown of Latvy curl around the room, turned off the alarm and was tormented until its exit. It seemed to me that if it is impossible to study like a Latvian, then you should not even strain.

I was weaker than her in everything, but still there were two topics where I dreamed someday to crush her: I wanted to pass it at least once to pass it on literature and at least once defeat her in a political dispute.

I immediately admit - neither one nor the other I did not succeed.

In the walls of the university, Latvka was invincible.

Everything in it worked as a single mechanism: it turned off at that moment that she went to bed, and jumped up as soon as the alarm clock called. I remember the sound of her steps from the corridor - she was approaching as inevitability.

The first time we argued at the very beginning of study. It was on the way from some lecture. Probably with political history. I dropped something about our president’s tendency to tyranny, and Latvka suddenly said that I was carrying nonsense.

“Say that you like him,” I laughed.

“I really respect the president of the country, which I owe so many,” Latvka answered calmly. - I can be grateful.

- In the sense - owed?

- I came from Latvia, I have no citizenship. I was given the opportunity to pass exams along with the Russians, to enter the free universities for free, and a hostel and a scholarship were provided.

- So what?

“Well, the fact that you should also be grateful.”

This reasoning struck me so much that for some time we walked silently. Before that, we did not discuss politics, but for some reason I was sure that Latvka shared my views. Rather, the views of my family. My father’s kitchen thoughts seemed so logical, correct and strong that I simply could not imagine, as in Moscow, at Moscow University, someone could reason differently. Latvian words not only surprised me. I was scared because I did not know how to argue. Those pathetic a couple of times when one of the classmates spoke of my sympathies to the president, I just looked at them with contempt-they say, what they understand. But it was impossible to look at the Latvian with contempt. Firstly, she seemed very smart to me. Secondly, she looked with contempt at me.

- That is, I should be grateful to the president for being learning for free? I asked at last. “But this is ... Well, this is like not their established rule.” This is something like our agreement with the state, no? In addition, free education remains from the Soviet Union. This is not Putin invented.

“Not Putin,” Latya agreed. - But thanks to Putin, the state can provide us with such an opportunity.

- Ulcin also studied for free.

- Under Yeltsin, people survived. Under Putin, you can not only learn, but also do it with dignity.

- It’s just that we still have a university. But not everyone is like that.

“But you were able to enter this university.” And your parents do not pay for this.

“They know how much they paid for the tutors!”

- This is already a question of your personal abilities. I did not have money for tutors.

I got angry.

- We are studying at journalism! He destroys freedom of speech!

- Freedom should not be uncontrolled. He took measures that were necessary. And I do not see any serious oppression of the press. There is a “new newspaper”, there is “Echo of Moscow”, “Kommersant”, “Vedomosti”, the entire Internet.

“I really respect the president of the country, which I owe so many,” Latvka answered calmly. - I can be grateful. Under Putin, you can not only learn, but also do it with dignity. You should also be grateful.

All the arguments I heard in my parental cuisine seemed to scatter the unshakable confidence in the Latvian voice. I suddenly regretted that my dad could not get out of my pocket from my coat pocket.

“But the Politkovskaya was killed,” I said finally. - How can we feel safe after that in this profession?

Latvka darkened. She attributed flowers to the forest street.

- Politkovskaya did such materials, for which in any country they could kill. Journalism, Beshley, is generally a dangerous profession. But you have nothing to fear yet. If you want to be Politkovskaya, stop being afraid of a kitchen rag to start.

III.

Now on the hostel’s website, where I entered in 2006, it is said that two students live in rooms with an area of ​​14.5 square meters, each floor has showers with cabins and kitchen are open a day. Well, at least now I know exactly where everything has changed for the better over the past ten years.

During our studies, three lived on, and I still remember the stale morning air in the room and the smell of washcloths from the pelvis, which stood under my bed. The first three years the shower was only one - a huge, merciless room without curtains and booths, thanks to which the anatomical features of my course is easier for me to remember than all surnames. And the kitchens were locked at night on duty. Why they did this, no one knew, but no one argued.

With Latvy and Katya - our third neighbor from psychology - I lived one fifth of my life. But when I try to restore those years in detail, some set of episodes arises in my head, which all together, perhaps, could take a temporary segment of several days. Maybe a week. So I get up in the morning or I don’t get up, but I sleep until dinner. I interpret in a common soul. I’m dressing around, late. I go to university. Or I’m not going to the university, but I go down two floors in a yellow tile chicken and let the rings into a smoky ceiling for a long time. Or I go out next to the church. This is gray autumn. Or spring. For some reason, I can never remember the winter. I smoke. Road in the hill. University gold plate. The second floor, the third. Plastic doors. Narrow desks. I don't remember anything. Not a single lecture. No, I remember ate a sausage with a ketchup of western literature. And as we quarreled with Latvy on macroeconomics because of the Latvian president.

Anger pounded in me. Anger at her is because so confident and convincing, and for herself - because she began to doubt.

It was in the second year. I brought Vedomosti to the lecture, and they, of course, immediately selected them. Then it was fashionable to carry business newspapers with you, but Latvka, unlike the majority, really read the entire press. Having run through the lanes in the lanes, she laid out the newspaper on the desk and began to paint the photograph of Valdis Zatlers - the then Latvian president.

The teacher - a harsh communist who taught us the macroeconomics - slowly paced at the board.

I whispered:

- You don't like him, right?

- I don't like it.

- Why?

Latvka threw a contemptuous look at me.

“Yes, he is no one simple,” she answered after a pause.

- In terms of?

“I don't know who he is.” We were introduced to us two weeks before the appointment. Traumatologist. He did not even have any program.

“Well, listen, we don’t have the situation much better,” I began timidly. - You came to the country where the president is also not chosen.

“You can’t even imagine how much they are not chosen in Latvia.” It is approved by deputies of the parliament, not the people.

“But you choose the parliament.”

- And you choose both the parliament and the president.

“But this is nonsense.” We do not choose anyone, - I started up. - Everyone only talk about the successor. "The election of the successor." Nothing is so embarrassing you in this phrase at all?

- You yourself chose Putin. You, Russians, went and voted for him. And you will go for the successor and vote.

- We have the majority of e ** stubborn, that's all.

-Well, you’re decide, most of you have e ** tube or something wrong with Putin.

- All e ** tumored. Russia E ** Nutai.

- Russia is not e **, it is you e **. You have everything, your family has everything, what else do you need? Do not like it - leave here.

- What do you know about my family? My parents keep a small shop. And before they had three small shops. Now one, because taxes, rent, firefighters go.

-Only something great can prevent a person from answering the question of what the Constituent Assembly is, Beshley. I would like to feel something like that.

- I poorly know the situation with a small business, but I can judge a more global picture. GDP is growing, the incomes of the population are growing, my grandmother in Latvia began to pay a Russian pension. Maybe specifically your family is not very living here, but this does not mean that everything is bad at all. But if you are not ready to wait for the country to develop, if you are not ready to contribute, then get out of here. I'm ready. I want to get citizenship, I want to live and work here. And you are! Nobody bothers you. Go to everything ready.

“Well, I’ll dump,” I muttered.

Latvka defiantly buried in the abstract, and I tidied breathing in order for another five minutes. Anger pounded in me. Anger at her is because so confident and convincing, and for herself - because she began to doubt.

More than anything at that moment I wanted - as I later wanted many times after all our disputes - so that the future would rather come and appear to us in such a terrible form, when no Latvian can object to me.

IV.

Gradually, I stopped arguing with her. The authority of the Latvian is in my eyes every year. In addition, I was always afraid that she would show me the floors.

- I want to live like in Europe!

- You have not been washing the floors for three years!

But Latvka did not show anything. Periodically, she just defiantly grabbed the mop, furiously drove her on the floor for two minutes - from which, I must say, it did not become cleaner in the room - and then returned to her work behind the laptop. One Katya really washed the floor-but so mournful and quiet that none of us appreciated her labors or noticed. However, by the Latvian efforts, the image of a lazy fool from a wealthy family was already firmly entrenched in the second course. And I - what to hide - every year corresponded to him more and more.

Latvka made a career at the state radio station. Once a week, I dragged into practice in the Kommersant economy policy department, I didn’t do anything useful there, I annoyed the deputy editor of the department and, of course, did not receive any money for it.

In the third year, Latvy could not stand it and said directly to me:

“I can't respect you, Beshley.” You are nineteen years old, you are sitting on your parents’s neck. I would understand everything if you were at least studying. But you don't study. You sleep until lunch, do not clean the room, stick out for hours in the smoking room and eat crazy money. You go to the newspaper only for a look. Where are your notes? Well?

I wanted to show her some kind of schedule I painted from the last number, which I was very proud of, but under a cold Latvyshkin gaze, he suddenly seemed faded and miserable to me.

I began to look for work and soon found a place in a new business publication. I was scolded and reported there all the time, from morning to night I picked in some numbers, all confused and very worried that they would expel me. But Latvka seemed very satisfied with me and at times changed its condescending tone for friendly participation.

In the fourth year, life began to seem unbearable to me. Preparations for exams and diplomas were added to a large amount of work. We almost stopped sleeping. Latvka finally turned into a robot, I - into a deeply unhappy, aching creature. Sometimes early in the morning I went down to the chicken, got up at the window bars, blew out the smoke and imagined the time when it all ended. When there is no study. When I stop being a stupid correspondent. When I will turn to the editor and I will also swear at everyone. When I rent an apartment and smoke in my kitchen.

I just could not imagine that in this future there would be no Latvian.

She stood behind all my dreams, and I was waiting for her approval.

V.

Now I know that a similar sensation - a feeling of unbearable severity of adulthood - had Latvy. We both lacked joy and something human in everything that happened to us.

Fleeing from the wretchedness of the hostel and some unbearable beast of office life, I fell in love with a university teacher and then began to explain everything with suffering. I smoke a lot - because I suffer. I study badly - because I suffer. I missed duty in the kitchen - I suffer. I'm late - because I suffered again at night. From suffering, it became easier for me.

Latvka did not believe in the truth of this love for a second, but I did not dare to deny her sincerity-I never knew how to lie and suffered real, with roar, hysteria, despair and alcohol. She awkwardly comforted me, but it was not easy for her to talk about my feelings-it was noticeable that for such situations she had no words, but as if there were not enough reactions.

I will never forget that day in my fourth year, when I was terribly disgraced.

She had hobbies that could not be expected from her - Feng Shui, psychology, horoscopes. She found a strange guy who, according to her, could open the castles with his gaze.

The teacher - the same teacher - at the seminar asked us to define the Constituent Assembly. The whole group was silent for a long time, and then I decided to save the situation, get up and answer this very simple question. I got up. Opened my mouth. And suddenly I could not say anything. I stood a little and sat down.

In the evening, the Latvian, who studied in another group and did not see this scene, arranged for me an interrogation:

- That is, what does it mean: you could not answer the question of love, what is the Constituent Assembly? How is it possible?

She looked at me with anxiety, irritation and curiosity. As if I will now reveal her a vital secret. I was outfit, swollen and could not tell her anything intelligible.

- I don't know. Встала, посмотрела на него, и у меня как будто перехватило все — горло, в груди что-то… знаешь, так стиснулось.

— От любви?

— Не знаю… наверное, от любви.

Латышка немного походила по комнате, потом села и сказала вдруг очень серьезно — так, как она никогда мне раньше не говорила. Словно на равных.

— Только что-то великое может помешать человеку ответить на вопрос, что такое Учредительное собрание, Бешлей. Мне бы хотелось почувствовать что-то такое.

VI.

Я не думаю, что перемены в Латышке начались из-за меня и той глупой влюбленности, которой я изводила всю нашу комнату. Я думаю, что-то в ней сдвинулось еще раньше. Сейчас я вспоминаю, что с каждым годом она все больше жаловалась на работу. В какой-то момент у нее появилась идея стать двигателем прогресса на радиостанции, где она работала. Она говорила о реформах, о том, как мечтает постепенно сдвинуть огромную неповоротливую госструктуру в сторону разумной эффективности. Придумывала новые программы, форматы. Без конца писала какие-то концепции. Делала презентации. Разрабатывала благотворительные проекты. Каждый раз все заканчивалось разочарованием. И каждый раз это разочарование было каким-то по-детски недоуменным. «Я не понимаю, — говорила она, — я не понимаю, почему они не хотят меняться. Ведь всем же так будет лучше».

Все чаще она присылала мне новости, которые ее возмущали. Говорила о слабости экономики, нефтяной зависимости, неэффективности власти, низком качестве образования. Я не помню, чтобы мы отмечали получение ею гражданства и русского паспорта.

Окончив бакалавриат (она — с красным дипломом, я — кое-как), мы вместе поступили в магистратуру. Ее недовольство университетом стало стремительно расти. Она начала прогуливать лекции, плохо сдавать экзамены. И в преддверии летней сессии вдруг заявила, что бросает учебу. В своей обычной резкой манере она сказала, что магистратура не оправдала ее ожиданий и что в мире еще много ценностей помимо учебы. В один день собрала все вещи и вылетела вон.

Решение Латышки меня потрясло. Несколько дней я ходила очень взволнованная. Пустая Латышкина койка, застеленная синтетическим одеялом цвета морской волны, вгоняла меня в тревогу. Ночью сетка ее кровати не прогибалась и была недвижима. Сверху никого не было.

I was scared.

Я кое-как прожила сессию, но уже летом поняла, что второй год учиться не буду. Без Латышки учеба совсем потеряла смысл — я утратила ориентир.

Следующие два года мы общались урывками.

Она продолжала делать карьеру и получать должности. Но при каждой встрече уже говорила, что не видит перспектив. Что часто чувствует бессилие и апатию. Злилась на начальство и цензуру. После объявления о политической рокировке в сентябре 2011 года Латышка впервые что-то пробормотала про «пора валить».

«Бешлей, не забывай, что наше радио вещает на СНГ. Навального услышали в Таджикистане, Узбекистане, Киргизии. Та еще подрывная работа». Вскоре после этого она вдруг пошла на массажные курсы.

У нее появились увлечения, которых никак нельзя было от нее ожидать, — фэншуй, психология, гороскопы. Она занялась экстремальными видами спорта и нашла себе странного парня, который, по ее словам, мог открывать замки взглядом. Потом сама занялась восточными практиками и стала приглядываться к разным религиям. Съездила в отпуск в Тибет и, вернувшись, перестала убивать комаров.

Всплеск интереса к окружающей действительности возник у нее во время протестов 2011—2012 годов. Ее снова переклинило на работе. Только на этот раз она решила стать человеком, который все изнутри расшатает. Она радовалась, когда ей удавалось пропихнуть в новостную сводку неофициальные цифры о количестве участников митингов или вставить цитату от лидеров протеста или просто протестующих. Но постепенно протестные новости сменились потоком сообщений об арестах, затем превратились в судебные сводки. Энтузиазм Латышки угас. Последним ее геройством стала речь Алексея Навального с одного из его приговоров, которую она лично дала в эфир.

— Ну ты, мать, крута, — сказала я тогда ей.

Латышка не выглядела довольной.

— Бешлей, не забывай, что наше радио вещает на СНГ. Навального услышали в Таджикистане, Узбекистане, Киргизии. Та еще подрывная работа.

Но я до сих пор считаю, что она поступила храбро.

Вскоре после этого она вдруг пошла на массажные курсы. Я думала, что это увлечение пройдет так же быстро, как остальные. Но Латышка окончила одни курсы и тут же взялась за другие. А потом еще и еще. Она стала регулярно мять спину мне и моим друзьям. Вскоре у нее появились свои клиенты. Работа на радио теперь обсуждалась исключительно как помеха.

— Знаешь, это… это такое счастье, когда вся твоя работа заключается в том, что ты кому-то делаешь хорошо, — объясняла мне Латышка. — Я раньше никогда об этом не думала. Не знала, как это важно — не просто не делать зла, а делать что-то хорошее, правильное, нужное.

Она очень переживала. Когда было ясно, что дело идет к тому, чтобы оставить работу на радиостанции, у нее явно наступил кризис. Ей много платили, она снимала хорошую квартиру, у нее была высокая должность. Наконец, была мама в Латвии, которая так гордилась, что ее дочь вернулась на «историческую родину» и добилась там успеха.

— Как это все оставить, Бешлей? Что я скажу своей матери? А что скажут все? Что скажут наши однокурсники? Мои коллеги?

И я, которая могла и хотела сказать больше всех, ответила:

— Всех на х**. Ну, кроме матери.

С радиостанции она уволилась вскоре после крымских событий в 2014 году. И тут же ушла в пешее паломничество по пути святого Иакова — в Сантьяго-де-Компостелу.

Статьи о своем путешествии она присылала в журнал, где я тогда работала. Я редактировала ее тексты, со злостью читая про Путь, который «у каждого должен быть свой», и разглядывая фотографии — такие красочные и невозможные в пыли моего рабочего кабинета.

«Ладно, — думала я, — в конце концов она же вернется».

VII.

Латышка уехала в Латвию.

Уезжала она долго, муторно. Все время оставались какие-то вещи, за которыми она возвращалась. Прощались мы раза три.

В феврале наконец проводили.

Она сняла в Риге квартиру. Зарегистрировала свой бизнес. Делает массаж легально, платит налоги. В Москве это все почему-то было очень сложно и совсем невыгодно.

Пишет, что сыр в Латвии теперь гораздо вкуснее, чем когда она уезжала.

В конце мая ее ждут экзамены в медицинский университет. С европейским дипломом она планирует уехать работать куда-то еще в Европу.

Я часто теперь вспоминаю, как однажды ночью, уже незадолго до госэкзаменов, я поделилась с ней мыслью о том, что где-то уже существуют то время и то пространство, в которых все настоящее позади:

— Вот представь, что прошло, например, пять лет. Тоже ночь. Ты лежишь. Где ты лежишь?

- I have no idea. Но, надеюсь, где-то недалеко будет море. Я по нему скучаю. А ты, Бешлей?

— И я не знаю. Но надеюсь, что у меня будет хороший матрас.

Матрас у меня хороший.

22 мая 2016 года

Author-Deputy editor-in-chief of the Internet publication Rus2web