Last century
Somewhere in the Ural Mountains on Central Street, on
the outskirts of the town
I am eating my
morning cereal and watching animated version of “Nutcracker.” “Grandma, who
wrote such beautiful music?” “Petr Ilich Chaikovski.” “What a large palace!
Imagine how long it takes to clean it! Grandma, where is this palace?”
“Probably in Petersburg. And the premiere of his ballet “The Nutcracker” took
place in the Mariinski Theatre in Saint-Petersburg.
In this city there
are many beautiful palaces and mysterious castles. But now it is called Leningrad.”
“Dad used to live there?” “Yes.” “Why does he live here now? If he were living
there, then we would be living there with him as well. And I could look at such
wonderful palace, if only with one eye. Grandma, are there princes in these
wonderful palaces?” “All the princes have gone away.” “Are they coming back?” “They
would have to. I hope you are more lucky. Eat your cereal! When you grow up, you
can go to Leningrad, and your prince will come there as well.” “Let it happen sooner!”
Done with the cereal.
Same place. Same time. Possibly a week later, or,
maybe, a month. Morning
“I don’t want to wash
my face. And I won’t!” “Then I am going to call Moidodir!” “Call him from where?”
“He lives in Leningrad, in the apartment of the former mayor.” “No, Moidodir won’t
come. First, he’s far away. And second, our doorway is narrow. Not going to wash
my face!”
Same place. Same time. Possibly a week later, or,
maybe, a month. Day
Singing: “What do you
dream of, cruiser “Aurora”?” “Mommy, Aurora id the Goddess, who wakes up early?”
“Yes, she brings light to gods and to people”. “Then why is she “cruiser”?”
Same place. Same time. Possibly a week later, or,
maybe, a month. Evening
Listening to a bed-time fairy tale
Little children!
Never ever
Should you go to Africa,
To walk in Africa!
In Africa there are sharks,
In Africa there are gorillas,
In Africa there are big
Angry crocodiles
They will bite you,
Beat you and hurt you,-
Never ever, children,
Should you walk in Africa.
In Africa lives the highwayman
In Africa lives the villain,
The terrible Barmalei!
“Daddy, does Barmalei live on Barmaleinaya
Street?” “No, he lives in Africa. But there is a street called Barmaleevaya, where
Barmalei was supposedly born. His, so to speak, Fathers were the artist
Mstislav Dobuzhinski and Kornei Chukovski.” “Strange, two Dads and no Mom… Did
Barmalei move?”
Same place.
Same time. Possibly a week later, or, maybe, a month. Night
A loud knock on the
door in the middle of the night. Daddy opens the door. A telegram. Mom has a
nephew. “Great! Mom, where was he born?” “In Leningrad”. “So what is a
Leningrad mailman? Directly from Leningrad?” “Why do you think so?” “Well, he
brought news from Leningrad. And, in the book by Samuel Marshak it says:
Who is knocking on my door
With a fat bag on his belt,
The number 5 on a copper badge,
In a blue hat?
It is him,
It is him,
Leningrad mailman.
Some are so lucky. Why
was I not born in Leningrad?”
Many years later…
Still last century. Perestroika
Somewhere in the Ural Mountains. High school. Literature
lesson
Discussing a new
film, in whisper: “Did you see “Sea Cadets, forward” last night!? “Yes”. “Me,
too. Wonderful film” “So did I. I liked it also”. “He is so fine!” “Just a pet!”
“He has such nice hair”. “Who are you talking about?” “About Sasha Belov”. “And
I am talking Alexey Korsak”. “I meant Duke Olenev”. “Great! At least we won’t
fight!” “Hey, what are you discussing?” “Sea Cadets. But you are late. We’ve
gone through all the princes.”. “I have a prince of my own”. “Who is he? Why do
we not know him?” “You do so know. “Once upon a time there lived an
absent-minded man, from Basseynanya street…” “That is funny!” “Why? If you take
the frying pan off his head, and exchange the shirt for the pants, then he will
be quite a man. How is he not a prince?”
End of the last century. The perestroyka era.
Somewhere in the Ural Mountains, on a street named after an editor of Bashkir tales, a talented scientist and simply a good man.
“Мама-папа, ну, можно я поеду в Петербург с друзьями?”
“Мы это уже обсуждали. Смотри, что творится в стране? Куда ты собралась? У тебя
экзамены на носу. Сиди, учи”. “Сейчас март. А экзамены только в июне. Еще куча
времени. Пожалуйста”. “Нет. Тема закрыта”.
The end of the last century. Hard times in Russia
USA. Los Angeles
“Mom, Dad, I want to
go to Leningrad this spring. I need your permission in writing”. “First, it is
no longer Leningrad. It is now called Saint Petersburg. Secondly, we already
discussed it. Look, what is going on in the Soviet Union”. “It is no longer
Soviet Union. It is now called Russia”. “And, besides, where are you going? You
have exams coming up. You need to study”. “It is only March. The exams are in
May. There is a lot of time left. Please”. “No. The subject is closed”.
Early XXI century. Russia. Saint-Petersburg
It is the second week
that I am in the city of my dreams. I cannot believe it. Petersburg! I am madly
in love with you! For me, you are the Fairytale City! I won’t trade you for any other city with real palm trees. Even with
this terribly… wonderful weather! I love your center and am smitten by your
newer quarters.
Every morning I visit
the Hermitage and spend 3-4 hours there. I realize that Istill have not seen
even a tenth of what I could see in the biggest museum in Russia. Funny, it
turns out that hermitage is a place for a hermit, for solitude. What solitude
with these crowds of tourists? Maybe in the basement? But that is the territory
of cats, who serve our culture. What a pity I will not be in the Hermitage for
the March Cat Day. The last Saturday in March is still far away. Even the
founder of this city had a lot of respect for cats. I recently found out that
the last name of Peter the Great’s great-great-grand-father was Koshka.
I am walking along
the Throne Hall of the Winter Palace as quietly as Princess Fike once did, her
first time here. In this wonderful city her dream became a reality. I also hope
that my fairy-tale happens in this city. No, I am not asking for a throne. I am
fine with a prince without a kingdom.
During those two weeks
I also visited Barmaleeva Street, in S. M. Kirov’s omuseum, where I finally met
Moididir and examined the various wonderful toys, which could have belonged to
my grandmothers and grandfathers. I also enjoyed the old toys in the Doll
museum and the Toy museum.
I have spent quite a
bit of time looking for Basseynaya Street. It turned out to be near the
Elektrosila subway station. And Samuel Marshak’s Basseynaya Street is in the
very center of the city, near the Liteyniy Avenue. It is now called Nekrasov
Street. I visited the Communications Museum, where I heard a story about a
mailman, who had delivered a letter to Boris Zhitnikov, a children’s writer.
“It is he, it is he, a Leningrad mailman.” In the Book House, which is on
Nevskiy Avenue (with a globe on the top) I bought a lot of books from my
childhood for my nephews and friends’ children.
I visited
museum-theatre “The house of the tale.” It is a miracle: I am back in my
childhood! I had read about wonderful masquerades, set up by the Empress
Elisabeth. But sometimes it is better to see than to read. In the Russian drama
museum in the Alexandrinskiy Theatre there is a huge collection of theatrical
costumes! I wanted to try on many of them and got quite sad when they would not
let me try one of the ballroom dresses. Therefore, to raise my mood, I went to
the case “North” to try wonderful pastries. Full and happy, I decided to visit
two more museums: coffee and chocolate. Oh those narcotic smells of coffee and
chocolate. I really need to see them as well.
And in the evening… I
am going to the Mariinsky Theatre. They say that if you have not been to the
Mariinsky Theatre, then you have not been to Saint Petersburg. Today I am going
to the premiere of “Nutcracker”. I wonder, what is he going to surprise me with? I hope a
wonderful tale is waitng for me…
Early XXI century. Russia. Saint Petersburg
Mariinskiy Theatre. Entr’acte. Theatrical café
I am eating amazing
ice cream. The best in the world. “Is this table free?””Yes.” “Hello! My name
is Pete. No, Petya. Well, Peter. And you?” Good evening! Are you a foreigner?”
“Well, yes and no. I used to live here, a long time ago. And now I am living,
or lived, in America.” He is like the man from the Basseynaya Street. The
grandma was right. Princes do return… “So, what did you say your name is?”
