About two Rozhdestvakh, the Belarusian children and love to itself ofChapter 8 O two Rozhdestvakh, the Belarusian children and love to itself of
With big impatience expecting Christmas holidays, my irrepressible head was full of the most various creative plans. Further, I ask dear reader to be recruited for a while brotherly tolerance to me because some time to me will take in head “to poyakat“, sing dithyrambs of the observation and in general, I will dismiss continually the wretched tail, at least for myself to admire it, even threatening to kill myself aslant.
So, so far “the simpleton a thought grew rich“, as they say, so far the fool assumed, and God nevertheless had. Having been occupied with two days in succession, God knows with what, on the third my alter ego asked me an unexpected question: and in what it, as a matter of fact, I am engaged here? And I as the careless school student before the strict teacher, felt extremely awkwardly for not learned lesson, fast started continuation of the regional geographic treatise. What? Well, and absolutely in vain? - my alter ego goes on to me. Perhaps and so. Goodness knows. As often the most trifling oddly accepts most that on there is a remarkable look, and the most noteworthy causes only a fastidious smile.
Speaking about Christmas in Belarus, it is necessary to tell that it is celebrated here twice: on the twenty fifth of December and, naturally, on the seventh of January. The twenty fifth - Catholics or as they call themselves “the Polish Catholics“, and the seventh, respectively, Orthodox Christians. What is very amusing, congratulate each other on Catholic, “Polish“ Christmas, and often and mark out him, and Orthodox Christians.
From the conversation eavesdropped several days to that:
- Merry Christmas Christoff, Mar Ivanna! Long to you years!
- Merry Christmas Elena Nikolavna! And to you long years!
- And what - I am interested at Ivanna, you unless not orthodox?
- Orthodox - it is firm - and how I could will doubt? - Ivanna answers.
- And Nikolavna?
- And Nikolavna orthodox! You che, did not know? - Ivanna is surprised with my carelessness.
- And what you, that it, the friend to the friend congratulate on Catholic Christmas?
- Ý - ý - aa … Hmm … It is so accepted - Ivanna rotates on me eyes.
Here where the uniting power of belief! Here, where religious unification and relationship! It in a century that religious schisms, divisions and creation of own churches. Two Orthodox Christians congratulating each other on “not“ the“ holiday and going it to note. But this matter of course: long ago it is noticed, to us though day vseya Irladniya St Patrick though day neznamo from where undertaken St. Valentina, though devilish, modified on our consumer taste, Helluin (All Saints` Day, and in practice, become day of all devils), - and only the holiday was! Celebrated with dvorovo earlier - room scope, at themselves in kitchen, days of capture of the Bastille, liberation of Grenada and capture Halkhin - the Goal.
A few years ago, however, at us it was more reasonable than all, perhaps: Catholics had a rest for the Christmas, Orthodox Christians on the. And, naturally, the was also noted. Also there were in it certain logician and an order. And now everything mixed up. Probably, crisis is guilty. It is better for the authorities that the worker less at plant lounged about. Let, stays at home better, drinks vodka also kaubasky has a snack.
But, despite my easy malice, it is necessary to recognize, as here treat the first and second Christmas very seriously. However, is “often serious“ on naive, sometimes reaching elegant absurdity, externally - an indicative harmony. But it if to dig more deeply. And if not to get to the bottom of the deep reasons, then all according to Hoyle. For example, my neigbour, the woman who is deeply believing (“deeply“ here treats observance of external religious ceremonial rather - well, there in revival to go to church, to put candles and so forth) nearly a speech power did not decide when uvidat that I on Sunday do some work. Having lectured me neighborly, but with women “irreparable accident happened inherent “panikovshchinka“ a la - all died“, she could not calm down from my “unbelief“ for a long time. What I delicately answered it that more work on Sunday the Lord hates laziness in any day of week. And that this sin, It to me as - nibud will forgive.
It is remembered, these Christmas days, a visit of church at convent at us in Grodno. Often for such religious holidays, to parishioners, expose various shrines: icons of righteous persons, relics, church attributes which it is allegedly so much centuries, and which that allegedly touched - and that are, as a rule, good all believer the famous person. Well, it it seems as large hotels and restaurants extremely are proud of the fact that at them Michael Jackson allegedly visited. Hang out as napkin shrines by which that was wiped and for years do not wash a cup from which this Saint Mikhail drank. Or recently a story at us was told: in some Minsk little shop Berlusconi dropped in. Well, this that, Italian almost sacred, so all hope for it - both there, and here. And so this most august history reverentially handed down half of Minsk. The shop assistant of that shop herself, for certain, was with happiness on top of the world that Saint Silvio condescended and addressed it. Pleased the fact that, despite all newspaper trubadurstvo about coming of this Saint to our pagan regions, not all were so irrepressibly and are enthusiastically naive, and quietly laughed to themselves in a mustache at Saint Silvio`s coming, - and as, aloud it is impossible &ndash here; who was known where and why conduct and what knickknack, on what shish who has that, allegedly spontaneously, will buy. And pokhikhikivat over all empty sensation which surrounded with nearly sacred aura visit of this voluptuary and Italian Ostap Bender from policy.
And so, there were I in that church where for holidays brought some shrine. And so parishioners wanted to join this sacred curing icon allegedly of the 18th century which was hidden for brand new glass obviously from times not so ancient, is covered with suspiciously brilliant varnish and in general had an appearance nedurstvenny, - who would think that the shrine is more than two hundred years old! - that they began to step in every possible way each other on heels, to push elbows and to hiss the friend on the friend, having forgotten in general where they are. The second precept, at introduction of a shrine, was forgotten at all. As around there were generally elderly women, took in head to pass philanthropically to me itself one especially weak granny forward - go, poor, it is more necessary to you. Well, and absolutely in vain. The people for me to such altruism in church obviously were not habitual. Moreover, when shrines brought! These poor grandmothers were accepted - God`s oduvana already to me in a back gloomily to hiss. Such - syaky, you pass FAQ without turn, and? See, you, for someone else`s account to paradise want to drive! Frankly speaking, I, for want of habit, even wanted to begin to cry. How so, people? You in church! You to the Lord on a visit came, and step on legs each other. Eh!
I which I - as an icon, thinking absolutely gloomy and unnecessary thoughts, got out in this world, and at heart, instead of divine light and pleasure kissed, there were quite terrestrial lead and grief. From church “kissed“ paced enough. On their faces the content was written. The heads were proudly raised, warmly wrapped up figures important priosanena. They “joined“. From flesh and blood tasted. The duty was fulfilled. Well, and merry Christmas you, brothers and sisters!
About the Belarusian children
I like the Belarusian children. No, do not think nothing “such“. And that against the general fashionable hysteria inflated by unruly mass media, some daredevil primereshchitsya goodness knows what. My sympathy for children keeps in the known framework of love and decency. And at distance they are pleasant to me most of all. Well, or at short communication. That minutes well fifteen in day. And the rest of the time - at distance, at distance.
The happiest time of life in Belarus, within a short human century, at my subjective view, drops out on age of five - twelve years. And so, it is how unhappy and uncomfortably here can feel sometimes thinking of the sad ekzistention, striving for freedom, the adult, exactly so happily and comfortably here it is possible to be at this age of innocence and ignorance. Perhaps by the universal principle “nothing comes from anywhere and disappears in anywhere. If, somewhere it will be lowered - means, somewhere will surely increase“? I do not know. But the fact remains.
From the very first days here, traveling about by the railroads of the country, I with pleasure considered incredibly independent and always well-groomed Belarusian children. And it is not important on what forgotten substation we stopped, - in some five-thousandth Koptevka, or in modest Smorgoni, - with huge satchels behind the back, in early accurate ochechka, pure and tidy, in the doorway grandly appeared, carefully passed forward and paws - hlopchyk and dyauchynka took seat on the places.
Without habitual for children of their age of noise and din, absolutely on - to the adult, they got some children`s magazine or the mobile phone and were accepted to a problem, a crossword puzzle, game. Having eaten the sandwich made by mother since evening, they did not throw out packages and pieces of paper in a window as the Ukrainian and Russian children like to do it, and threw out them in a dustbin or, behind not a manor of that, moved away them to themselves in a pocket.
In behavior is good to me familiar Ukrainians - madcaps and Belarusians - prilezhnik the difference just was evident. If the first with noise and a cloud of dust rushed on cars, could not sit still and five minutes as if in one place at them the pricker sat, at them it was impossible to communicate the friend with a druzhka on half tones in any way, they had a bite, began to play cards, ceased to play cards again to have a bite, climbed to the neighbors with questions on other place - in a word no minutes could is in static, quiet situation, the second had everything just the opposite: it was possible to envy parents of so raised children only. Such children - old men, with improbable understanding of a vital essence in big blue eyes what wanted to be approached and questioned “So in what sense of our life, and?“.
Of course, my memory involuntarily compared what it imprinted there, in other cities and rural lands until recently, with what was now, here. And, of course, the probability of an error at such prejudiced comparison was considerable as new it is always more interesting to us, it is even lovelier because we were already tired of the fact that “every day“ that as a water stream on the head even if that water warm - warm. And here - as splashes of cold water! As sudden May rain! Safely, suddenly, in a face! And well and that that is cold! Well, and that that wetted through! But, as all this is new! As it is fresh! It is new!
As a rule, at terms of intimacy we are not able and we do not try, to seek for an essence of things, to zrit in a root, to see shortcomings. We perceive outer side, a beautiful glossy cover, without looking in the middle and in the end of the book, there, where pages are rumpled, torn also spots from yesterday`s borsch. We see this luster, and it is pleasant to us. It attracts us. Against our judiciousness, sweeping aside the saved-up experience and a voice our the second I “Be careful“. To us not before.
Perhaps therefore, being not familiar personally, glubinno, how our kindergartens to what and how learn at schools, without knowing are arranged as tutors and teachers prepare, I was and I remain is so naive? No, not absolutely. A certain veil of “luster“ from eyes already fell down.
I do not rejoice so violently any more from the fact that at school for lunch my daughter eats cutlet, and teachers praise it.
For example which year I unsuccessfully fight against a certain callousness when performing homework, against the freezed automatism and the same facade, within the only child and its Belarusian school. That is, it seems, as well as I do not fight, and so, for nothing I am indignant. The speech about that, it is how important to present at school the ready work made on the computer, beautifully issued and, as a rule, just slyamlenny - downloaded of the Internet, or made - written - translated - drawn with the father, mother, the neighbor. Also it turns out “The father at Vasya is strong in mathematics, the father solves, and Vasya hands over“. Also receives for it an assessment.
My daughter constantly sticks to me something to make for her. At what, she does not wish to participate in performance of a task. Or if does it, then does it on the automatic machine, it is not interested and is heartless, soaring, god knows in what clouds. My arrangements and educational measures, so far, did not lead to anything. Works, both were downloaded from the Internet, and downloaded as mother with the father wrote compositions and translated from English, and … things are right where they started.
Once the daughter, the schoolgirl of the fourth class of usual high school, came with a task to write the poem not less than from eight lines. To admit what counted the teacher on, giving such difficult task to pupils of the fourth class of usual school, it was difficult to tell. But the fact that my daughter safely will shift implementation of this titanov of work to my shoulders I did not doubt at all. I wrote the poem. And, of course, my vanity just exulted for pleasure and the satisfied vanity when this poetic opus was recognized as the best and is even hung out in the wall newspaper, but, having returned, under fanfares of copper pipes, from parnasovy clouds, back on the guilty earth, I suddenly understood that the crime was committed. Forgery. Obvious case of plagiarism. Eyewash and convenient connivance. And the criminal - I is. The crime, for certain, was committed not only in our case. I do not doubt at all, as other children innocently dragged to the school matrons poetic attempts of the dearest parents, for as were marked out by an appreciation. The same unfortunate poets at whom fathers and mothers had no the gift of Evterpy or simply were busy, hardly, independently scribbled some four poetic lines not of the best comme il faut. And, respectively, respectively were also noted by the teacher.
At what, I know that a situation with my child - ordinary and absolutely not uncommon. Compositions and statements are everywhere written in this way (as far as I understand, having downloaded them from the Internet, they even should not be rewritten),
Few years ago, being one of the few two connected to the Internet at our plant to me a chain went asking humbly, “to look for so and so on the Internet“. And I am guilty that lured them. Nearly every other day I had to try to discover in a network “Criticism of the Tale of Igor`s Campaign“, “Ch. Darvin`s Autobiography“ and “Features of a fly - drosophilas“. The people and its children did not want to think. They even did not want to rewrite. Later, from - for the weakness, I had to do tasks on German and English for those who generously filled up me with cheap Belarusian chocolate from which I formed heartburn.
By the way about the Belarusian candies
Having received in advance New Year`s gifts for the sake of which, by the way, I as the madman, ran on all plant with the sheet in which there were surnames, it was above written “Gifts“, other four lines are not filled. The not office mind I tried to penetrate into what I will do now. So, to collect signatures. I see. Signatures for what? And, for “Gifts“. In receiving? No, incorrectly, yet did not receive. In what we will receive? But when? Where? Here nothing is told about it. Having felt the gibbering idiot, I took an interest at the more skilled colleagues what the sheet is. “The sheet in receiving New Year`s gifts. You see, is written “Gifts“ - the most experienced explained to me - the obmatery colleague. “In receiving? - I was surprised. - But still nobody received. Here nothing is written“ - “stupidly“ I was perplexed. To put it briefly, I it is “also stupid“, but doing clever, and most important, it is inspired obligatory and diligent to a full usereniye … that is, to full diligence, the person, trudged to collect signatures. Those who “potupy“, appended the signature without reflecting, doing “cleverly“ “And where to undersign?“. The same that got used the head not only to eat, but sometimes and to think, puzzly and thoughtfully, looked, at first at the sheet, then on userenny, that is, diligent, the messenger who brought it dejectedly asked the “stupid“ question “For What I Undersign - That?“. And, having received the “stupid“ answer “For receiving a gift“, spoke multiple-valued “And“, “stupidly“ appended the signature, and thoughtfully, following, looked it is proud removed to me.
Who told that at work the main thing mind? Who told that the main thing experience? At all not. Main thing, diligence. Diligence to a useriya - here, for what the administration waits from us. And the corresponding mine on a face. Same diligent and silly. Look dashing, so to speak, and silly that the administration not to confuse. And the first two qualities, mind and experience, often only disturb. From them only questions and inconvenience in all diligent body.
Means, we received gifts. One aunty who did not appear in the list, and on whom, I respectively, did not obtain a gift, having come to me, terribly and not childly on me got angry. I promised it to bring a gift tomorrow. But she wanted today as all received, and she one was left without New Year`s toy. I felt sorry for her, and I gave her the gift. And itself, with easy fight, beat out a gift already tomorrow.
Colleagues rejoiced around as children. They right there opened the gifts, tenderly touched all these “Alenushek“ and “Bears“, and very not laconically and nostalgic told any stories from the childhood and the childhood of the children. Conversation rotated around candies, and when I was asked what candies that in a gift, it are pleasant to me more, I frankly answered that the Belarusian candies are not pleasant to me. Some colleagues were disappointed a little. Here it is interesting and that all of them wait for time from me to hear? What is everything always pleasant to me? I know such “diplomats“ who pour into eyes to you honey with treacle and as soon as you a back turn, are spat as if their mouth is full of sand.
Some consider a sacred debt to be engaged in an immediate overpersuasion, “the address to the correct belief“, opening of eyes to the blind person, including themselves that on is sighted people.
- Why you do not like the Belarusian candies? - and I strain because skin I feel that this question not so much culinary how many political.
- Well, because it is not chocolate, and “soy“ - I honestly answer.
- But tasty - that candies - follows stunning argument which you do not know how to parry.
- You tasted sometime usual German chocolate? Not special, and that everywhere in Germany? - in turn, I ask a question.
- Well, and you, of course, ate the Ukrainian candies? They can be bought here.
- Sure. Anything special.
- “Anything special“?! Quality of the Belarusian chocolate as I already told, - low, “soy“, wrapping design - primitive, from our youth still, raznobrazy tastes - poor! Yes a difference, as between quite good Belarusian sausage and the same, the disgusting Ukrainian! Meat and starch! What here to argue when also it is visible to the child! - and I see that comparison is almost pleasant to my interlocutor. She is softened, and is already ready to recognize that “Yes, the Belarusian candies - not really“. Psychology, however!