OursI Will begin life with the fact that I live in one regional center, in the city of N. I live here three years. “Already“ - it I to the fact that this time is enough to study customs and customs of local population, to understand their mentality, their weak and strengths. Well, and that their relation to the power is important. And the authorities to them.
And so. All this I to the fact that for the last three years of my stay here, none of the high-ranking officials visited us. We to their thicket on the TV observed. About them, and at the same time and ours, progress listened. As we, so to speak, directly in bright future at full speed rush in accelerated tempo. As well, say, is to us. As our salary quickly grows, and inflation - so, it is almost imperceptible. Overcame her all and does not allow to raise the head, a zmeyuka, the Minister of Finance, the person hiding behind thick lenses of points and a low voice. As all of us blossom here and we smell sweet. If not the TV, I also did not know about the happiness. And so you include it, you will look - you will listen, and pride begins to hold apart you. For. For the country. For all of us.
And so, did not go, guests expensive, television, and here, did not go to those to us, took yes declared: “To us goes …“ - no, not the auditor, as at Nikolay Gogol, and very much, even very much - preochen, the important person. Almost ““. Et to you not to spit and pound. Figure! And to term on preparation - practically nothing. Month.
Saints that here began! The downtown was closed. Here so, took and closed. Neither by tram, nor by a taxi, nor on dogs not to reach. In total near and near. But by. In the bus children shout, mummies swear, men silently sweat.
Everywhere turns, turns, turns. On phone to put money - desire to be in tiny pomeshcheniyets where still same as you two - three tens, mouths as fishes on shoal open wide. To buy a loaf of bread? Again in turn! The grandmother to go to see a ticket? There! Moreover all angry - very evil. There are in them no love and understanding to the neighbor.
Are expensive on which will pass their Excellency, plowed as vernal fields. Also began to cover slowly them with a new, thick layer of asphalt. At first one party, with e t of t and to about y e with t about N with to about y N e t about r about p l and in about with t yu, all day long. All day long. And che to them? They have the whole month. Not at night to slave away. Not, it, maybe, and is necessary, I will not argue on technology of laying of asphalt, I am not an expert. Funny another that I on these roads not work go every morning. Smashed in stuff. Three years. And three years were normal. Nobody noticed that the road all in funnels, as after shelling. And che? Road as road. At us almost all such. And here suddenly began to see clearly.
If in the morning I wake up in bad mood, then it is worth going outside to me as me the laughter sorts and it becomes joyful at heart! Because even on our suburb that between the city and the village, they as moles rummaged everything that is possible. Put cars, technicians overtook. Saw, hollow, dig. Local authorities suddenly with astonishment found out that those roads and similarity of sidewalks which became useless even before my arrival to the nice city of N appear, need under repair!
cover Facades of buildings in cheerful such colors: golubenky, rozovenky, zheltenky. So were fond that on taxpayers money painted even five five-floor cases of one unprofitable enterprise which already 10 years as are empty! That is, present, inside everything so artly zakakano and is written down - the Slavic people have such custom to fertilize the empty buildings of a sobstvennosr. but - it is cluttered up and littered, to put it briefly, became useless everything, and fasadik along the road of following of Lunoliky and Solnetsepodobny on a brilliant government limousine shine so playfully - playfully, joyfully - joyfully. Here - happy children`s faces here will look out of windows and will wave tags and balls, and will cry “Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!“. Well, it is direct kindergartens!
painted Fences. Pokosila grass. Streets swept out. And che, badly, you ask. Not - and, fine! Who does not want to go on flat roads? To go by the facades of the thrown plants and factories which did not peel off ten years ago, and are fresh the bleached cheerful walls and facades? To stamp not on dirt and dust, and on purely swept sidewalks! I do not want? Only it is sad, for some reason. Because it not for us, residents of this city, citizens of this country. It not for us they put new roads, painted houses, mowed a grass. And for this purpose. For the auditor. For a facade. For grandstanding. For show, reporting, formality. Call as you want.