Rus Articles Journal

Karelia: what is Kuzaranda?

of Kuzarand... Not quite poetic name will bathe marvelous images. The nature which is laying claim to the Eden shrouds in the charm. The shining greens of meadows, untouched arable lands which are buried in glade flowers... Having caught sight of the field, I could not but be surprised: from where in the middle of the summer snow? However it is illusion. The white velvet flowers in places diluted with ochre touch low clouds, - all this also creates similarity of winter. A harmonous number of the dragonflies who were fond of a pursuit one after another which - where raise dust from the lonely road. Decayed, uncombed houses do not frighten off, and bewitch: it is interesting whether lives who here, or this monastery existed from the moment of the universe, and now it is supported by fairies and gnomes, or perhaps a bayannik in whose existence locals believe? Zaonezhye`s time as if shipped in a sweet sleepiness, wakens from heated argument of the bells which are scaring away shy wagtails. Here what I saw...

Though was said by some critic that any charm is followed by disappointment, and is not present! - he miscalculated...


(from - for Finnish influences the phonetics of words, though with the Karelian roots, gained its peculiar features: the accent is put mainly on the first syllable) - the general name of twenty four villages that are located nearby from each other. Even two houses can make the certain village, and three lodges remote from those two meters on two hundred - already other village. Each of them has the name: Big Fields, Small Fields, Vitsino, Yusov of Gore, etc. In total together it is Kuzaranda that in translation from the Karelian - Finnish means “the fir-tree coast“. Very inconsistent characteristic! Unction can be met there as much how many in Saudi Arabia hares - hares.

But at once local frightened us of acquaintance to an ominous plant, the name to which - a cow-parsnip. Its leaves are huge, and the same force disappears in them. Having touched this tree, you will suffer from terrible burns which bare bones. But we tried to steer clear of it as well as from ticks and snakes whom I for some reason, despite stories and numerous preventions of inhabitants and guests of Zaonezhya, did not meet and it is a pity... Not that I wanted to tempt Destiny or to be trained in medicine, sucking away viper poison from the leg which would begin to grow stiff slowly, but to dart only one glance at the troublemaker, at a symbol of the Devil, at the tempter of our primogenitors (you hear, Milton?) - why is also not present?! Really in vain I tracked down eyes your roads, lovely snakes when I made the way on the wood to a pier?

However, about you I forgot at once when I went into the board mooring. The azure lake it was spread before a look. Which - where canes friendly shook, ahead, meters in forty, to the being seen islands, was based upon serene waters of a flank - a favourite haven of seagulls. And this picture reminded the Tale of the tsar Saltan. At the left and on the right, along the coast as if policemen of this wild beauty, stood wooden baths, thoughtfully letting out a smoke from a pipe... Somewhere further the oval island as if pining with weight of dense foliage of often planted trees was seen amazingly correct form. At the left the flat coast opened, clearly, thanks to the bend, and represented for show a hutorok. Further away the village on style reminding Bavaria, perhaps from - for a spike at one lodge, to be exact - from - for the sticking-out tree top was seen. I christened all this “paradise“. And it is valid, the emerald grass of the coast absorbed sunshine; the waves sparkling gloss directed the run to that party; and even the sky in this place cleared up, without daring to create clouds. As opposed to it there was also “hell“: directly on the horizon where was seen it is bluish - a black strip of the wood as if shrouded in fog.

“Perhaps, - I thought, - on that opposite coast someone here also sits and looks afar, and somewhere on the middle of the lake our looks will meet and... on that place, it is unknown as, from - under waters will come up a ship, or the courageous small fish will make a somersault... And suddenly? Magic Onega...“

Once I sat up with

on a pier long enough: already bronze sun was absorbed by water, and the decline burned down. For me came. What to do, not one I lost the account of time. Kuzaranda does not know time at all. Perhaps it is one of the bewitched places in the world where laws of the Universe do not work, I do not know... But I know one: minute local - there hour. Yes, there in days twenty four minutes, about that. Around there everything is impregnated with romanticism, and this impregnation is dried up only by conditions of life and work. As for the last, it was easy.

Having armed with

with dictophones, we went to record of a local dialect. And already every other day all necessary material was built, the benefit the granny got to us garrulous. If later we came across not very friendly grandmothers who pleaded as if nothing is known, sent us to others, insisted that they have no time that on a horoscope they cannot conduct conversation today, then “our“ granny let to herself, having been delighted that to it will be with whom to chat, gave to drink tea dozen of times, invited in a bath and even to spend the night! However, we refused the last. And still told very much that we were delirious with delight: it was necessary only to decipher. Hard business, but cheerful - sometimes you will hear it that you laugh then several days.

All evenings passed

under the auspices of “Mafia“ - very lovely game which so was fallen in love by all that played it even in an hour of departure. Also there were songs to the guitar, and not only under a live guitar, but also in a cover, near an artificial fire - but it was even more cheerful! However day of watch was the most cheerful. So coincided that in our couple there were no thorough culinary specialists. Persons on duty had to wake up for an hour before the others. As we were afraid to oversleep! Both we do not hear alarm clocks... But is not present, woke up, kindled firewood an oven (that madly was pleasant to me), and for the first time in life cooked porridge. Fears on the fact that porridge will burn, and it is necessary, burning down from shame, to give pieces of coal, were vain. And all band in fifteen people fed with very good porridge. It would seem, half-affairs it is made, especially when coped with the mountain of ware. But it was suddenly decided what would be quite good and for lunch to weld something - and it is that thought up in our change while in other days everyone got a lunch to itself(himself). Lonely shelves of filthy little shop, certainly, did not strike with abundance. Well, a lunch - so a lunch. Coped with porridge, so in power and soup. Only managed to wash the dishes after a breakfast as it was necessary to heat the furnace again, to cut onions, potato, to open a knife stewed meat etc. Generally, soup did not bring us, and all were with a lunch satisfied. Both again ware, and again an oven, now - a dinner. All pass by and feel sorry for us: the whole day in kitchen. At an oven so hot that you leave as if a bath, but all torments for the good: also the dinner was successful. In our change nobody remained hungry!

A in the evening again “Mafia“. Then all settled in the sleeping bags which covered a floor in a barrack - as in beds in kindergarten. In addition, we visited the local museum which reconstructed an interior of an era of Irina Fedosova - the famous weeper, we also visited and a disco which turned out not such at all terrifying how drew my imagination. Soon day of departure - came long-awaited day. Yes, in spite of the fact that all liked an adventure, a saying about the house and about guests is always actual. While all gathered, I ran on a pier, looked round the lake finally and wrote the message which hid in a pipe under a pier. The message to myself if I return there in a year, or the message to someone else...

there Arrived the tiny minibus into which fifteen people and fifty suitcases had to squeeze. Figuratively speaking someone went headfirst, someone pressed to a ceiling - but it did not prevent us to sing songs. When in Tolvuye made change, all rushed in shop, and - oh, a miracle! - what rich range! “Six types of juice! And it that? Ice cream? Wow!“ And when regained consciousness - already Petrozavodsk, already house, ahead - half-month of vacation, behind - a wonderful trip.

Tatyana Vaskina