Rus Articles Journal

You love Lenin? I too. From the cycle “Shuttle Baizes from Karpov“

Planes Greene Eyre twice a week took off from Moscow that in three hours to land the making a din crowd of “shuttles“ in Istanbul. The departure on Mondays with return on Thursday allowed to carry out three working days in the Istanbul shops and at factories, and those who took off on Thursdays got also Sunday. This day many shops did not work that allowed to have a rest properly.

Ya liked to fly on Thursdays. In the morning on Friday I brought together persons interested and drove them along the traditional route including up to one and a half tens shops well familiar to me where it is possible to find any goods. Girls in firm even recommended to beginners to register in my group so I had always enough new faces. I considered that such “excursions“ are one of the most effective ways to ensure safety of beginners on their first trips to Istanbul.

For the second half of Friday and Saturday I managed to make all the affairs, and on Sunday dared to relax, having a rest as wanted. I wandered about the old city, admiring the temples and palaces built by great architects of the remote past. I for hours vanished on a fish market, watching the moving variety of sea depths. And just to sit on the bank of the Sea of Marmara, examining numerous vessels, too was remarkable entertainment. In the summer I got out to be bought and sunbathe to the Black Sea, and went in the winter to hot springs where it was possible to get warm nicely.

That time I arrived on Thursday too. However, it is just told “on Thursday“. Usually the plane arrived late at night, there was only enough time to reach hotel, to take place there and to settle right there to sleep.

Then everything went as usual, but in the bus the representative of the Turkish firm warned that in revival there will be a population census therefore not only shops, but also public transport will not work. Turks were forbidden to leave the house till the evening. The exception became for the porter of the hotels, police officers and taxi drivers bringing people to the airport and back. It was unpleasant, but we could not change something.

To the middle of Saturday day the pack of currency with which I arrived to Istanbul slowly resolved, and I had one hundred-dollar note which nobody wanted to accept as she did not wish to rustle in any way.

On Saturday evening I rang round all tourists, having warned that they on Sunday did not leave hotel and itself intended to esteem too or Turkish to watch TV. However already by noon I, having taken away from the familiar porter of the passport, invited the girlfriend to walk on the empty city. I wanted to find lyustrovy shops on that coast of the passage the Gold horn.

Business happened in the summer, was very hot, we went, choosing shady sides of streets to move on the bridge to that coast. Everything was as in the fantastic movie - the become extinct city, neither people, nor cars. Occasionally cats stole a march and police officers who, having understood that we are foreigners, continued the movement on the district of the city allocated to them flashed.

Brought us to the area of large banks which walls and roofs were larded by video cameras. It was horrible to go and observe how chambers turn to us following.

We found the area with lyustrovy shops, studied the range hanging in show-windows. I decided to visit there next day, to touch everything and to understand what all this costs and whether it is possible to offer it to our arising class of rich people.

On the way back when we hardly trudged through the bridge which seemed to us extremely long connecting coast of the passage I noticed some person, obviously not the police officer as those walked in couples. As the bridge came to an end, the person came nearer. Here his black moustaches are visible that guarded, the Turk could not appear on the street. On clothes it became clear that it is the dustman, but why he freely goes down the street? The Turk stopped, waiting for us. It was almost necessary to come very close also to us to it.

- Rus, - we heard a guttural voice. It was not the question, and it is rather a statement.

The Kurd, solved I, thinking what to do farther.

- Yes, we from Russia, - unwillingly it was necessary to agree with it.

- I very much love Lenin, - the unexpected phrase was heard. The stranger spoke broken language, but nevertheless it is clear.

The man rummaged around on the pockets and got a coin in one Turkish lira. Stretching me a coin and showing on Ataturk`s portrait, the Turk accurately said:

- It to you. Souvenir. Ataturk - the Turkish Lenin. I love Lenin. And you have Lenin? Give me.

In my pockets it was empty. In hotel there were some rubles, but why them across Istanbul to drag. And here Nastya in a handbag had several notes. She wanted to give to the Turk a semi-centesimal piece of paper, but I with words: “You what are you doing?“ - with a smile stretched chervonets, pointing to Lenin`s portrait.

The Turk grabbed to ten and began to kiss it, muttering continuously:

- Ç ok te ş ekk ϋ r ederim, ç ok te ş ekk ϋ r ederim, - and then snatched on me with violent embraces. I felt how his hands rummaged on my body, I began to choke and already wanted to push away it, but he jumped aside from me, bowed and quickly went aside.

- A crust what it was? - I asked, panting. But Anastasia was silent, only eyes saw off the Turk.

- Check, in pockets - that everything is normal? - suddenly she asked, having as if regained consciousness from some delusion.

- Yes it is empty at me there, - I answered, too observing as the Turk was behind turn of the street, but at the same time surveying pockets of the jeans.

- It is empty, - I once again told and right there slapped myself on a forehead. - Oh, shit, one hundred which I could put off to nobody in a pocket of a tennis shirt lay, and now it is absent. Well, the actor as he us bought! This an exchange to receive the Soviet chervonets for one lira, and it is more than the American ten moreover a stolnik, let and suspicious and even false, he will attach it. It is really dexterous as it pulled out it, I did not manage to understand anything. And how he understood that it is money, there is no habitual feeling? Well, well done!

Ya could not calm down in any way, understanding that you were thrown as the child, both angered, and admired at the same time.

Then I burst out laughing with such relief that Anastasia looked at me whether with suspicion, whether with regret:

- Yes I did not go crazy, calm down. Was delighted that it relieved me of tortures where to attach that suspicious note.