The last resident Somovki Bashny.Net

A trip to the village Somovka that Ushachi area, took two days and destroyed in our minds a few stereotypes. Misconception first - 200 kilometers in Belarus - a distance that can be overcome for 3-4 hours. The second stereotype - residents of the capital more successful population of the provinces. And finally, the third shattered the truth, because we, in fact, went to Somovku: a person who lives alone, lonely and unhappy. But let us all in order.

Building a route to Ushachev on the map, you will face a dilemma: to get to this small district center in the Vitebsk region are two roads - or through Dokshitsy Polotsk. And in fact, and in Otherwise, the road should take the strength of three to four hours, so the departure, we do not hurry, late in the afternoon came to the bus station and gave himself into the hands of Providence - to which the regional center will go first bus there and go. Providence grinned mischievously and chose Dokshycy.
69 pictures and text under the cut

Minibus carrying us to the point of landing, as if on wings, two hours had passed, we were in a small town at the source of the Berezina. They went out, looked around, came to the passers to find out how to overcome Ushachev the last 70 kilometers. And then it began ...

- Ushachi ?! - Peasant eyes, which we have asked the seemingly simple question, pointedly and bulging in surprise. - Public transport there today is no longer walks, a ride, too, is unlikely to be reached. Unless tomorrow ... but the hotel is no free seats, so guys, you're in trouble seriously.

We reserve the pessimist in the side heading to the outskirts of the city, in the direction of the route R29, which goes directly to the intermediate goal of our route. Dokshycy small - 15 minutes, and we are on the outskirts. After two and a half hours it becomes clear that the words of goggle-eyed guys were far from the truth.

It was getting dark. We go back to the center, Sharim eyes around in search of a place where you can warm up. The gatehouse guarding industrial zone, opened the door, a middle-aged man goes to see who is wandering around the neighborhood. After learning about the purpose of our trip, smiling, invited into the house to get warm.

Inside the warm, bright light blinding the habit. On the floor is heated, a homeless dog, which the owner of the lodge took 15 minutes before our arrival. The caretaker took an active phoning friends in search of the car, he was helping the woman sitting beside him. The world is not without good people.

Car to Ushachev found quickly. On the way the driver Sergey entertains us with tales about Gypsies who live in the summer in his native village. He says - worked as a shepherd, a small closet, designed for 2 persons, more than 15 people huddled. During the conversation we did not have time to notice how arrived at the hotel in Ushachi.

The next day, getting up early, walk around the city, which is preparing to celebrate the Day of Defender of the Fatherland.

When we decided not to tempt fate and found a driver ready to take us to the village Podyazno - the last staging point of our route.

The village stands on the banks of the magnificent lake Yazno. At the bus stop there is no timetable, it does not need public transport calls in here once in three days, twice a week, come shop trailer - that's a message to the "mainland." In Podyazno through the house - abandoned hut. Around - forests, hills and the white silence of the sunlit surface of the snow of a frozen lake. It seems that the village died.

But life in Podyazno still exists. No sooner had we and hundreds of meters to go as we feel a curious look "native", watching the guests fell as snow on the head.

- Who are you? - Asks the man smiling, flashing gold teeth.

- We get Somovku want to Dmitry Dooku says he's a hermit lives - we answer. - Tell you how to get there?

- To Mitka something? - Khekaet "native" and looks at the opposite side of the lake. - The road there is not clean, consider, knee-deep in the snow will fall through if you go and a long way - about three kilometers. Let me you better to his brother will take, Vaska, my namesake. Maybe he will tell you how to get there.

As we walk along the only street in the village, a local resident told us about the troubles, fallen on small home in the last twenty years, "stay here only old men, all the young people of the sweet life in the city is served. Another ten - fifteen years ago almost all the houses were inhabited by local buses go regularly, the school was. From the school where I studied, is now only the foundation remained. And our main connection to the world today - the supermarket (as we here call the mobile shops) ... »

However, such a sad picture is observed in Podyazno only in winter, then summer tourist paradise for savages. Come summer residents, fishermen, filled with quiet bustle of the village, shouting bathing, drinking and fighting holidaymakers. Abandoned houses are gradually buying back vacationers often - the Russians. Prices for plots near the beautiful lake has been steadily growing - now $ 5,000 is hardly buy.

- It turns out that soon there will be the masters of different people - sums up Basil. - Just a decade - and the village will turn into a holiday village, and for us, no one will remember ...

The last house on the street. On the eve of one of the log cabins and is smiling all three teeth wrinkled Dzyadok in a fur hat. Savory puffs on the cigarette, squinting, looking "urban."

Santa tugovat ear, have long to explain to him the purpose of our visit. After our ten-minute monologue, he flourishes:

- So you're going to Mitya? So at once, and said! This sometimes up Somovki just will not reach. You have only one way - a wolf's path - and make sure the click sends the butt into the side of the lake.

Wolf called the local path trodden trail, through which, they believe, gray are moving across the ice from one bank to another Yazno. The path winds between the islands, lost in the distance.

- Here on it and go, do not get lost - farewell "aborigines." - At first, the island will round one on the right side after the second will move through, and there napryamki Somovki to close. Just look at his feet - in some places, the keys are hitting the ice tempted.

Two of Basil Podyazno look after us and gradually dissolve behind, amid become toy houses, rickety baths near the water, forest and sky powdered with feathers clouds.

Santa Mitya met us on the island, directly in the middle of the lake. We climbed up the hill with one hand, he - on the other. First the wide tips, hunting skis after - cap with ear-flaps and, finally, Dmitry Y. Duc himself - eyed and smiling.

Last Somovka villager welcomes us, groaning pulls the skis, taking in hand a homemade stick and slowly goes to a lonely little house, which stands on a hill in the distance. Every 50 meters grandfather Mityai stops to catch his breath. Complains suddenly appeared in his life in your old age.

- I'm in the hospital in my life once was - he admits - and here a couple of months ago there was a shortness of breath sharply. I had to go to the district center, a doctor. He looked at me, said - with heart problems. I wrote pills - furosemide - and sent from God. But I for these drugs is not particularly hope forward the summer - there is grass will go to the apiary honey appears, then'll health. Worthless peasant in 65 years to be a wreck!

House Mityaya grandfather is not like a hermit hut. It should be tight, painted, stacked firewood - churochka to churochke. The door was not locked - other people do not go here. The owner warmly invites us to go "into the house."

The floors in the house last resident Somovki though old, but swept perfectly. Everywhere are fresh rugs, bed tidied up, the curtains on the windows, waiting to spring laundry. Dmitry Y. recognizes that does not tolerate "a mess in the house." Cleaning is engaged in almost daily, good time for this winter abound - for the fifth year in retirement.

Hosts lays on a table uncomplicated entertainment, we, too, were not in debt, passing it brought goodies, including - a bottle of whiskey. Overseas brew Mityai grandfather took with surprised enthusiasm, the bottle is on the table at once, removing a sample, a hermit grunted noisily sucked air and a verdict: "Good Pervatsch even do not want to have a snack."

Speaking as usual in such cases, it has gone "for life».

- Dmitry Yakovlevich, you alone are not afraid to live here?

- I - no, it is only necessary to be afraid of the two-legged, they are all the problems. But my brother, for example, in this house lately afraid to spend the night. He says, in recent years, come in large urban district, what to expect from them - is unknown. And the beasts to be afraid? Vaughn, come out into the yard, go round the house, there is the wolf tracks, and has recently seen a lynx. Peacefully, so to speak, coexist.

From the porch of the house heard a terrible roar.

"ABOUT! Hunter my back "- explains the grandfather Mityai and leads us to look at the" Hunter ».

We went out on the porch and see the oil painting: the old cat climbed up a tree, trying to jump on the tin roof of the porch, desperately clawed at the metal slides, slides into the snow, but it is not lost and again storms height.

- I have it at least once a week hare strangled on the porch brings - proudly says Dmitry Yakovlevich. - I will eviscerate a rabbit, into pieces and fed hack cat and dog. How different? Fair game.

Last Somovki resident agrees to hold us to a tour of the village, which has become history. Indicates a hill, he said that there was a house of his grandfather, the second - recalls ancient grandmother, chasing his Maltsev with gardens. Only there's nothing around - but the high bushes withered grass sticking out of the snow drifts.

Somovku before the war called the village could only be a stretch, rather, a large farm.

- In the past, they say, there were 15 households - says Mitya grandfather - only this time even I did not catch. When the war started, there were ten houses. Two houses burned German incendiary bombs.

With the war Dmitry Yakovlevich much linked, though he was born in 1949. Ušačy area is known for large-scale guerrilla movement. In the house of his grandfather Mityaya even lived for some time the head of the guerrilla movement, Vladimir Lobanok. How to free Belarus from the Germans, the famous commander of the guerrilla team again visited Somovku, it is clear to him she remembered something. He walked and looked, and immediately ordered the village electrification. Light conducted a few days.

And in the early '50s of the last century grandfather Mityaya older brothers, 5 and 14 years old, found on the landmine. The children began to throw stones at her, and she detonated. So Dmitry Yakovlevich did not siblings, and parents from this time with a speck of dust blew. Yakov and Olga Nikiforovna Ye have lived a long life, but they are already on the small village cemetery, standing in the near undergrowth. A wife of a hermit Somovki never found. There was one, but another left, perspective. Even at the wedding have been accordionist.

- All or dispersed or died, - says Dmitry Y., and paused for a moment, he adds: - Fifteen years ago, there was another 5 houses - houses pulled down and they left together with the owners to other villages closer to civilization.

Back in the house, my grandfather Mityai drink another glass "Pervatsch" and ready to finish on philosophical topics.

- Here you have a car? - He asks.

- No.

- And his house on the lake?

- There is none.

- And I have a motorcycle and its hut. That is why you, the city, the Rockefellers themselves think? After all, the mind is, it turns out, I'll be richer.

Continuing the theme of relative wealth, Dmitry Y. recognized that a pension million rubles. "Money for food and sugar enough, and the burner can sometimes buy. But I rarely drink it - it brings the balance of its expenses. - The last few months even postponed, will soon buy a TV on credit, and not simple, and the plasma! What am I, a bald or something? »

And while in the refrigerator grandfather Mityaya "lives" a pig's head, bought a week ago. This stock of food, along with cereals and sugar, should be enough for another week. Moreover, the baking, the bread and pita bread we brought. However, the hermit of Somovki refused to recognize the new word. "What-a pita? - He wondered. - Damn it damn and Africa, I have these now I can bake, and at times tastier and more beautiful ».

Here and Dmitri Y. lives. He believes that the Internet - is such a set-top box. For the first time in his life when he saw the dollars, suggested that the banknote "big bosses of the bank."

The farthest trip Mityaya grandfather was in Minsk for the wedding. She left a confused impression in the memory of the old man. Hermit sure that residents of the capital murder of their time and health, pushing uselessly between the concrete "boxes».

- I have a life never chose - he admits. - Yes, and the citizens that come to the lake in the summer to relax, take a steam bath, honey, go and say: "There is no better place than in your Somovke." However, after always leave.