The collective farm is a voluntary business who said. Oleg Zdrav - Collective farm is voluntary

After coming from the army, he found confusion in his native alma mater. Well, yes, the institute was not ready to receive back such a number of demobilizations. The dean's office walked crookedly, painfully groaning, as he was regularly thrashed about for nothing. The Komsomol fell silent. The party went underground. That is, having sent all the students to the army, the institute authorities turned out to be completely unarmed in front of these beastly humanoids. The main threat to send to the troops has come to naught, besides, how can one reason with a demobilization at the institute? Nothing. You won’t send them to outfits, you won’t threaten them with disbat. And you can't get kicked out, that's the law. The rector's office dreamed of public executions and moved skipping. And then they could give in the neck.
And here again to attack, someone must be sent to the collective farm. Who? It is impossible by order of command - freedom, the mother of her children, has come. And they press on top. And the authorities make a fatal decision - "Let's send the raiders!" For indulgence. No sooner said than done.
The fact that I ended up in the right company, I realized even at the pre-collective farm briefing. On the podium, the dean mumbled something inaudibly; in the hall there were clouds of tobacco smoke, toasts and the clink of glasses were heard. The people calmly mixed from feast to feast, some wandered around the podium, in general the atmosphere resembled the barracks of "partisans". Even tailoring aromas were present.
The dean recited a horror story about how two students last year opened a general store at night and drank the entire supply of rural chatter. The money for the drink was neatly placed on the counter. They spent the night there. In the morning they were taken to the monkey house, but they threw up so much that the local Aniskins threw them out into the street and, touched by the fact of payment, did not open a criminal case.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.
-YOUNG MAN! YES, THERE YOU ARE!
-Ya?
-YES YOU! WHAT ARE YOU INTERESTING IN?
- Valentin Petrovich, I know this story, I was there in the general store. You better tell others.
Then he returns to the interrupted conversation.
The dean stands with his mouth open for a minute, then swears muffledly to himself and rolls off.
His departure goes unnoticed.
My collections were short. September, we are going somewhere to the south - Khalyabala or something, somewhere between Volgograd and Astrakhan, how much do I need? A lot of. Two pairs of jeans, a pair of T-shirts and shorts, two backpacks and two bags of vodka. I thought that I would impress my fellow travelers with my wisdom. Wrong again.
There was a truck on the platform, from where the crowd passed from hand to hand boxes with water into the car. The action was commanded by a tall gentleman with the appearance and manners of a young Byron. Deuce was his name. Subsequently, my friend for a long time.
Duce gave a benevolent look at my frozen figure with two jingling backpacks (one in the back, the other in front) and a pair of bulky bags, nodded (that is, dress and face control passed) and invited me to join the process with a gesture. When loading, Duce hurried everyone
-Let's live! Ten minutes before departure, and we are still nowhere to be seen!
The conductor, as he saw it, could only mumble, Duce thrust a bubble at him and regally gave the go-ahead with his brush, they say disappear. And the conductor disappeared. We never saw him in the carriage all the way.
Speaking of Duke.
How and who delegated him to the chiefs, no one understood. Formally, he was nobody. We were appointed to command the leader of the Komsomol graduate student Agvan, who went into a binge on the platform and did not leave the country of pink elephants until Moscow itself. But.
The fact that we returned all - and healthy - is entirely due to Duce. Not possessing any means of punitive influence, he managed this freemen freely and skillfully, as if in passing. And they obeyed him implicitly. What is called innate leadership qualities. Life has only developed them - Duce is now the owner of a large road construction company in India.
In his image he was a true white Sahib. He moved with a cane, sedately, moreover, he took with him a servant, a colorful character of about thirty years old named Khokhol. Master of Sports in equestrian triathlon and served three years for fraud. Drunk is terrible to the same. Can you imagine the lexicon?
Horseman and criminal in one bottle. But incredibly colorful. He arrived in a suit, shirt and tie, in which he spent the whole month with us without taking off. In it, he slept in feather grasses, stole rabbits, etc., etc. By the end of the shift, Stanislavsky would have pawned his pince-nez in order to get him for the role of the Baron in his production of the play "At the Bottom"
In general, they sat down, rolled over, set off. An unfortunate flock of women (5 pieces) huddled in the corner, stunned by such a neighborhood. Duce immediately stopped any frivolity, declaring them sisters. From among their members, he was appointed the eldest. A separate compartment has been allocated.
At 10 pm, Duce looked at his watch.
-Kat, children's time is over, send them to sleep.
The girls are tired.
- Well, Andryushenka, well, another half an hour ...
-I told someone! Well, scat!
The ladies trudged dejectedly into the bedchamber.
In the course of the movement, everyone got to know each other on the topic - Why are you? Since we were driving, I repeat, only raiders, there was something to listen to.
I didn’t really need to tell, I thundered through the whole institute. He stole his graduate student from the head of the department of physics. Not only that, he was caught in the physics room In flagrante delicto. Sveta and I had just taken a fancy to Réaumur's device in the corner when he broke in. Mamlyuchkov, a mean soul, told me that I had broken the device. From this, the suggestion "Let's go break Réaumur's device" for many years at the institute became synonymous with hasty hookup.
It was already three o'clock, the people were bored without female caresses, I was pinned up like a coryphaeus, I jumped up and volunteered to catch up with the women. Duke took me aside.
- Max, fine. What kind of women are on the train at three in the morning? Calm down.
- Anihera. I went.
-Well look. And then, let me turn everything into a joke? Authority is not affected.
-Not.
In the very first vestibule, it hit me how right Duce was. Really, what kind of women?
And where to call? How to beckon? "You are welcome, do we have 60 drunken men yearning for female warmth?" A tempting offer, nothing to say.
Dejectedly, I wandered along the empty cars. And suddenly ... A full reserved seat of drunken women. Smoke rocker. Three bespectacled men huddle in the corner. Mirage. I shook my head. The mirage did not dissipate.
"Textile" - I automatically noted to myself. They also go to the collective farm.
Here I was noticed. Eyebrows furrowed menacingly, they stared demandingly at my codpiece. I automatically covered the innermost with my palms. But I pulled myself together (It's not what you thought)
-Teeeek. Dads, get ready! In a column one at a time, behind me, shaaaagh-march!
Sensing strength and dexterity, the ladies dutifully followed me.
The column stretched over two wagons.
In front of the door to ours, I stopped the procession, saying schazz and entered the car with a downcast look. The crowd greeted me with a dull uuuuu. Deuce shrugged his shoulders, they say miracles do not happen.
-What didn't work?
-Well, not quite.
-?
-Count!
With a magician's gesture, I opened the door.
Once.
-What's your name?
-Sveta!
-Come in!
Two.
-Tanya!
Three...four...forty-two.
Then someone blurted out that they say, and I would ... think ...
Duce immediately cut off the envious.
- You know, Sash, I don't want to hear anything bad from you about a man who at three o'clock in the morning on the Moscow-Astrakhan train took 42 women in ten minutes. Nothing at all. He did a miracle, and how-it's his business. So dry up is my advice to you.
On the way, I got cut off. Got the flu. The temperature is under 40, nonsense, I don’t remember the ship at all. Duce didn't give it to the local horsemen, which is probably why I'm alive. I called an ambulance, bought droppers, medicines from them, and injected and nursed them myself (his mother is a doctor, so everything is up to the mark)
They dragged me on a stretcher, they stole it somewhere. Wrapped up in two days.
Upon arrival, it turned out that Astrakhan vocational schools would be our neighbors in the barracks. Lovely, modest, pure-minded girls. On the first day, a sign appeared on their door
"Atas cops, change your gait," and smoke with a familiar aroma stretched out of the windows. Particularly advanced, for whom there was little smoke, ran in the morning for the first milking and boiled hemp in fresh milk. Then they walked all day like a dusty bag over their heads jammed. Idyll. Rural pastoral.
At first, they treated us with a wary, ominous attitude. Please get ready students. You will have Tatyana's day.
It turns out that it was a good tradition for the locals to let students feel their love on the first day. They came with feelings to the whole village and gave. Over the years, it has become so much a tradition that it was perceived, well, as the New Year. Or the first of September. Type: September 1 - we send children to school, December 31 - we get drunk, September 12 - we fuck students.
But.
But this time the wrong students came. Among others, there were two characters. one (Sasha) - sixty meters tall, but from the age of 4 he was engaged in scuffle every day. The second is a boy from Lyubertsy (before the trip we were strangers, although fellow countrymen) I heard about him. Nickname Vasya-dozen. He somehow put 12 jocks from the neighboring area. Two minutes. The man was beaten once. Bam body. Such a Slavic wardrobe - but very fast. Back somersault, bending over with two weights of 32 kilos in my hands, I did it. From a standing position. Easy. It was absolutely impossible to watch on the train how these superhumans practiced knitting hands in a monkey - it was absolutely impossible with a hangover. The head was spinning.
Night. Bonfire. As usual, I broadcast something. Suddenly, on the border of the world, the kind faces of hospitable natives appear. I interrupt in mid-sentence.
-Polundra.
Vasya and Sasha get up and stop the climb with a soothing gesture.
-Sit down.
Deuce looks at them.
-Are you sure you don't need help?
-Not. We'll manage. And then there will be injuries.
Turning to me:
- Tell us, we quickly ...
-I ... uh ... not well, I'm from Lyubertsy ...
Dus-sharp:
Yes, even from Valhalla. Sit. Continue.
These two encourage the locals to take them away. The darkness explodes with wild screams. It seems that there a company of soldiers is being castrated with a rusty trench tool. Suddenly, a completely distraught creature flies out of the darkness and, without understanding the road, runs through the fire. Mom, what are they doing there with them?
After a couple of minutes, the crowd disperses. Those who are on their feet. The guys return to the fire. Not a scratch on either. To me-
- Did we miss anything?
The village then died out at our arrival. Inhumans. It would be nice wall to wall. They sent two, they put out the village, and the rest did not even raise their ass.
Then the grandfather blamed me for everything in the general store, they say, it was not humanly for these animals to poison people. I told him:
- What are you, Didu? Well, we had the most dead ones. That's why they sent them, pitying you. Nobody was killed? In! And you would know that the last time...Guts on the trees...Eeeeehhh...well, what to say...
Grandpa was speechless. Finely crossed himself and sideways from the store.
The next day, the chairman of the state farm came up and started yelling and stomping his feet.
According to him, it turned out that we had to substitute faces and thank you for the science of speaking. And then his robots mustache on the bulletin. Nobody to work. The tomato will rot. The kavun will overripe. The melon dries up. They gave me a melon and the chairman. Schaub was more gentle. And more attentive to people (emphasis on the first syllable)
The vocational schools melted and hung on the shoulders of the heroes. But I liked the doctor-student of honey from Astrakhan. Most importantly, she had a separate trailer. With shower!
This was quite enough for a deep sincere feeling.
At first, we didn't get it. One of the girls drank milk to the bone. And fell off. And then Nata liquidly pooped. All her resuscitation actions were reduced to the fact that she was jumping around the patient, shaking her croup finely and wailing shrillly ... "Darling, just don't die! Dear, be patient!"
Impressed by such qualified medical care, Duce and I got down to business.
I galloped after the truck, Deuce rummaged through the medicines, cursing muffledly, since Nata did not remember where she had anything at all.
Found something, pricked. The calf breathed.
We rolled into the hospital with the whole warm company. The sleepy doctor came out. I gave the floor to Natasha.
- Ayyyvvuuuuyymmmm!
The doctor raised an eyebrow.
-You feel bad?
- Nnnmmmaaaaaaaaaaaah!
-What?
I pushed the deranged doctor away.
- There's a patient.
-What's there?
-Anaphylactic shock. Looks like an overdose of hemp milk.
-Familiar. What did they prick?
- Hormones. Prednisolone.
-Yes. You are a doctor?
-No. Here is the doctor.
-THIS? Are you kidding me?
-Is it true!
Natasha was initially enraged by this dialogue. I set her up, you see.
But not for long. I gave up after a couple of days. I finally got to the cherished soul. In the morning (in a whisper)
-Only no one!
- You offend!
I open the door. Everybody there. They grab me in my arms and make a "lap of honor". Torchlight procession. Drum fight. Natasha is shocked. Then, waving his hand, he laughs along with everyone.
Then she went to Moscow to see me. But - without a shortage of showers, that effect was no longer there.
But hard times soon came. The vodka is over. The anti-alcohol campaign was in full swing and had not been seen in the general store for six months. Buying moonshine from the vengeful locals was like death, we would have insisted on rat poison. In every house, honor the memory of us lived. And she was sick.
And then ... I don’t know ... I don’t believe myself ... moreover, I asked the people several times, they confirm. After the story with the women on the train, they were no longer surprised by anything.
Some kind of mystic. In short: I found in the bushes a kvass barrel on wheels full of tarragon spirit. Since then, the smell of tarragon has turned me upside down. It's been over twenty years now. But then!
We stole it cleanly - the operation was led by Duce. He calculated everything, molorik, Even the traces were covered with branches. By the way, whose wealth was, we never found out.
Alcoholism is on the rise again.
One night, a GAZ 66 ensign passing by slowed down, to his misfortune, to ask for directions. And stayed. A week later, he went wild, dug a hole for himself, howled at night, ate alms. Tarragon from him carried a mile away. They tried to tame him, but he became a buen. Then they gave him a flask of sour cream (50l) with alcohol and fell behind. I have never seen a happier person. Neither before nor after.
And we have transport. One night I really wanted food. And they ate everything.
Without thinking twice, Duce and I sat on the lawn and went hunting. The idea was to push myself into fields of fresh beef. That is, we accelerated across the field and rushed to the herd of cows. Heck there. Have you ever had a herd cross your path? Remember this laziness, slowness, these stupefied looks from under the horns, this heap of manure in front of the car? So, this is all buffoonery. Play. You are simply shown your place under the moon. As soon as it comes to seriousness - as in our case - they become nimble and bouncy, like grasshoppers. We repeated the attempts five times, not even a single one was hurt!
Only the shepherd whipped the whole awning with a whip. Courageous man - nothing to say. With a whip at the ready, rushing under a truck is not a mouse farting for you.
“That's why they stopped tanks at 41 near Moscow,” Deuce muttered, turning around. Assessing the courage, we dumped slurping unsalted.
They didn't take me to the fields. In fact, I was there once. I spent half an hour collecting ... I got bored. Well, he arranged Tommatina there - the one that is done in Spain once a year. They trampled down half a hectare, shot all the tomato ammunition and went to wash in the pond, without collecting anything. At lunch, the grandfather on the gelding brings cans with lunch. Merin is an obvious Buddhist. He has seen everything, he is no longer interested in anything and cannot surprise. He is never in a hurry to go anywhere. Looking at him, I can’t believe that he was jumping somewhere at all. Only wandered or dragged.
Khokhol (master of sports in skating, I remind you) whispered with Duce. Duce poured grandfather tarragon poison. Grandfather poisoned himself with pleasure and sniffed his sleeve. Repeated. Lepota.
While the grandfather abused, Khokhol unharnessed the animal and jumped on horseback. Merin was surprised. He buckled. It was not there - the iron hand of the jockey quickly led the lazy to obedience. The Little Russian gave him shanks; The horse was clearly trying to explain something to him, but no one listened to him.
From the outside, this invisible dialogue between the horse and the rider was read quite clearly.
- Are you crazy?
-Let's!
- Let's fucking kill it!
-Don't p.di!
- Yes, I'm not in life ...
-Shut up!
-Ehhhh...
Before the obstacle, Khokhol somehow cunningly kicked the cattle with his heels and ... they jumped over ...
The horse already turned around ... I have never seen such a bewildered muzzle in horses.
-It's me? - read on it
Back they took the barrier already without tension.
Del howled beside him, biting his hat with his teeth.
Having approached, Khokhol famously jumped off his horse, patted him on the muzzle and threw the reins to his grandfather.
The mad grandfather tried to harness the cattle to the cart. It wasn't here. A frisky trotter, having imagined himself, did not want to be yoked. We almost died of laughter from this picture.
All that was and can not be described.
I know one thing for sure - after us, the state farm categorically refused such "patronage assistance"
Thank you for your attention.
The author is grateful for the friend in LiveJournal.
http://vinauto777.livejournal.com/

The collective farm is voluntary

Oleg Zdrav

“And we are recreating a new world. If not the world that we have lost, then at least the world in which we would like to live.

Ch. Abdullaev, "Keepers of the Cold"

© Oleg Zdrav, 2015

© Alis Idrisovich Museybov, illustrations, 2015

Editor Alis Idrisovich Museybov

Created in the intellectual publishing system Ridero.ru

Do not pour to the brim - a strange and wild, in a different situation, wish, did not meet with objections from others. Once again, the “loaf” shook on the pothole, and, having caught a period of relative calm, until the next bump, the thirsty devoured the divine drink without even clinking glasses. - Sincerely!

We have come, bourgeois cognac, yes, hunting is bad manners even for a Tatar, definitely, - Rafik voiced the thought, as a representative of this very class of hunters of non-Slavic origin.

You might think that it was not you who grabbed the Metaxa, - Mikhas immediately counterfeited him, and mimicked him with a surprisingly similar intonation. - Ten bucks for a bottle - it's practically nothing!

So it really is very inexpensive - such a chance should not be missed. When else will we get to the action: "three for a thousand one hundred." It's cheaper than "Kizlyar", which is on oak sawdust and Ossetian chacha. And this is the most divine Greek cognac. Alexander will not let you lie.

A pebble in my address, but I am silent, pretending not to hear. I need it, for the third time to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of cognac instead of vodka on the hunt. Moreover, the "Meta" is clearly not real, although it was bought in a relatively decent "Metro", where a clear fake is still rare. If not for the action, I would never have agreed to this fake. But 360 rubles for five stars even convinced me. Although, of course, it cannot be compared with a normal Greek drink, and, as they say, it was not close. Even in "Masunis"1 or in Thessaloniki, the dutik is an order of magnitude better.

This is not cognac, and not even brandy, the original composition with the addition of wine, - I make it clear, because Rafik will not lag behind anyway, and the gap between the toasts must be stretched, otherwise some comrades will be “in zyuzyu”, even before we get to places. - And the Greeks, they practically do not drink it. Three stars that adore ours for their cheapness are for culinary pastries, five stars and 38 degrees for women, and seven asters for a Russian-speaking tourist of both sexes.

What do they drink then? - drinking buddies are sincerely surprised, and even Bob, who is also Vovan, who is sitting at the steering wheel, looks inquiringly in my direction, reflected in the rear-view mirror.

Wine is drunk, usually dry. It is cheap and of high quality there, and in the heat with water it is the very thing. Men drink tsipouro or ouzo - aniseed vodka. Rare muck, tastes like cough medicine. It is diluted with ice water, almost one to ten - a cloudy white tincture is obtained. So they drink one glass of it for the whole evening, sitting in a cafe with a football broadcast - and so all their lives, day after day

Thank God we are not Greeks! - the unshakable Rafik issued the general opinion. - You have to drink to that.

Where to go from a submarine - you have to drink, diligently adjusting to the amplitude of UAZ jumps on the roads.

It’s good in Greece, probably, - again a subtle translation of the topic to me - entertain them, they say, it’s still boring on the road anyway.

Last year, at this time, a collapse occurred in the gorge, the only route connecting the two halves of the country was closed for six months. In general, it is better not to live there in the winter. And yes, it's hot in the summer. And nature and landscapes, you will laugh - exactly the same as we have in the Kalmyk steppe in the summer. The same scorched earth and garbage along the roads, except for the mountains on the horizon. At least where he lived permanently. On the coast, of course, more greenery.

To be honest, the city of Larisa2 is the worst hole in Europe that I have ever been to. Especially in the summer - when the heat is up to fifty in the shade. Greece is very different, and far from the tourist areas, it is not very beautiful and attractive. Probably, the crisis is affecting, but in the absence of the sea and tourists, it's just hell, white-hot and completely scorched by the sun. The only attraction is the headquarters of the first land army and the NATO air base - it is because of this that the locals did not call me anything other than “spy kejibi”. As a joke, of course, - only one name remained from the base - several links of the ancient "Iroquois", as if descended from the screens of the sixties from films about Vietnam.

A city of students and military men in the center of a peninsula scorched by the sun - what is a Russian tourist to do there if he is not a spy? Only engage in concluding a contract for the supply of drip irrigation systems and technologies for growing cotton. The Hellenes, and the Greeks categorically reject the European name given to them by the Romans, each province specializes in growing one major crop. This is done in order to avoid competition with each other. And it is necessary that our governor was impatient to grow cotton - that's why I ended up in Larisa, and not in the orange paradise in Corfu or Halkidiki.

As far as I am not an expert in agriculture, but I immediately realized that nothing good would come of this venture. Naturally, apart from the shock development of the next tranche under the Federal Program for the Development of Crop Production.

Until the crisis broke out, it was urgently necessary to master the next lard, and all the farms and factories for the production of milk from powder were already blessed to the very “I don’t want” and overwhelmed with help, so there’s nowhere else to go. Naturally, not all farmers, but only those who are “more equal than equals” and are close to the epicenter where the tranches fall, but it doesn’t matter. In any case, no one will give such money to ordinary peasants. Therefore, Solomon's decision was made to develop cotton growing in the region. And what do I need, I need it - no worse than the tobacco growing project, which died safely a couple of years ago. I'm just a translator, plus a lawyer with an economic background - unofficially, of course. According to the staff, the son of the chairman of the regional Duma is listed as a legal adviser, but he prudently did not go further than the Olympic coast and the hotel in Katerini, and your obedient servant does all the work for him. However, it’s a sin to complain - the “son” never pinches the premium, and in general is a rather charming, simple and cheerful young man, not burdened with knowledge and worries. Each has its own shortcomings. He has a dad.

However, there is dignity in this godforsaken Hellenic hole. The famous monasteries on the rocks are Meteora.

Until November 20, the Ministry of Emergency Situations, the Ministry of Communications and the Ministry of Internal Affairs, together with the Center for the Search for Missing People, must propose a procedure for interacting with search and rescue teams, including deciding how to deliver volunteers to hard-to-reach places and how, without violating the law, to find the direction of the missing by mobile phone. Governors are also required to “consider creating” regional resource centers where volunteers will be taught to search for lost people. These are a few items from the list of instructions given by the President of Russia following a meeting with representatives of volunteer organizations and socially oriented NGOs in Petrozavodsk.

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A few days before the meeting in Karelia in the Lipetsk region, the Liza Alert squad found the lost Artem Kuznetsov. But it was too late... A three-year-old kid walked many kilometers through the forest, fighting for his life. The adults were a few hours late, something was missing. Perhaps a fresh misfortune made the speech of Grigory Sergeev from Liza Alert (he was one of the participants in the meeting with Vladimir Putin) so convincing. Grisha argued, insisted, somewhere even argued.

It seems to me that there are more caring people in Russia than we used to think. There are even some statistics from the National Research University Higher School of Economics that confirm this. According to the data of the All-Russian survey of the population conducted by the National Research University Higher School of Economics as part of monitoring the state of civil society, 42% of Russians (18 years and older) have had to do some kind of unpaid work in the interests of other persons or organizations over the past year, that is, volunteer or volunteer. At the same time, 26% of volunteers spend at least three hours a month helping others, and 15% - more than eight.

Many want to help, but often do not know how. Now it’s enough just to transfer money to a charity project, but what if there is no such possibility and a person is ready to “spend” a little of himself on helping others? By the way, according to the estimates of the International Labor Organization, the labor contribution of volunteers is at least 1.5 times higher than the amount of monetary donations.

Over the past year, we at the ASI, together with volunteer organizations and the Civic Chamber, have been dealing with the topic of systemic support for volunteers - what hinders their work, what is missing, who needs to be involved in work, how to correct the legislation. There is a clear understanding, now, thanks to presidential instructions, there are also specific deadlines with specific executors.

First, with regard to the regulatory framework. Already in the autumn session, the status of a volunteer and a volunteer organization, as well as the requirements that they must comply with, will be legislatively fixed. It seems like a formality, but it is the official status that will remove a number of problems with the access of volunteers to hospitals, orphanages, nursing homes and other social institutions.

In addition, the powers of regional and individual federal authorities to interact with volunteers will be legally defined. Looking ahead, I will say that for the regions we have developed a standard for supporting volunteerism, which also received the support of the president and should be implemented next year. It spells out the necessary set of actions that will help build a functioning volunteer support system in the field (for example, a specific official with a rank of at least vice-governor will be responsible for interacting with volunteers).

Another very important thing is tax breaks. Let's say you are going to fight forest fires as a volunteer, and a good, socially responsible company pays for your travel and accommodation. Now these funds are considered your income, and income tax must be paid on the income. Strange situation. But this is not for long. This money will be excluded from the tax base. Also this fall.

Secondly, resources and infrastructure. For starters, where can I find out about volunteer events and sign up as a volunteer? Such a resource has already been created - “volunteers of Russia.rf”. There are already several hundred organizations registered there, you can create a personal account, receive newsletters. The president instructed to find money in the budget for its filling and promotion. The site will also pull up data from the regions, at least from those who will pilot the same standard for supporting volunteers.

Infrastructure is another important issue for volunteers. Often there are no premises where they can gather, discuss a plan of action, not to mention a permanent center. The standard provides for the allocation of premises for the resource center, as well as the provision of information on free premises that volunteers can use.

Finally, the right motivation. It is clear that for many volunteers the main stimulus is the need to be useful, to help others, to feel needed. But "thank you" - in whatever form it may be expressed - should not be underestimated either. It can be gratitude, medals, interesting studies. In the Moscow region, for example, documents are already being prepared for the establishment of a special commemorative sign for volunteers. Don't forget about encouragement. There is a separate clause in the standard for supporting volunteering.

Again, there are many who want to help. And this is such a powerful unifying factor, the very same wave, which, subject to the implementation of all the announced measures, will only grow. I am sure that soon the scale of volunteering in Russia will increase significantly. You just need to catch the wave.

The collective farm is voluntary

Oleg Zdrav

“And we are recreating a new world. If not the world that we have lost, then at least the world in which we would like to live.

Ch. Abdullaev, "Keepers of the Cold"

© Oleg Zdrav, 2015

© Alis Idrisovich Museybov, illustrations, 2015

Editor Alis Idrisovich Museybov

Created in the intellectual publishing system Ridero.ru

- Do not pour to the brim - a strange and wild, in a different situation, wish, did not meet with objections from others. Once again, the “loaf” shook on the pothole, and, having caught a period of relative calm, until the next bump, the thirsty devoured the divine drink without even clinking glasses. - With a vengeance!

“They’ve come, bourgeois cognac, yes, hunting is bad manners even for a Tatar, definitely,” Rafik voiced the thought, as a representative of this very class of hunters of non-Slavic origin.

“You might think that it wasn’t you who clung to the Metaxa,” Mikhas immediately counterfeited him, and mimicked him with a surprisingly similar intonation. “Ten bucks a bottle, that's practically nothing!”

- So it really is very inexpensive - such a chance should not be missed. When else will we get to the action: "three for a thousand one hundred." It's cheaper than "Kizlyar", which is on oak sawdust and Ossetian chacha. And this is the most divine Greek cognac. Alexander will not let you lie.

A pebble in my address, but I am silent, pretending not to hear. I need it, for the third time to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of cognac instead of vodka on the hunt. Moreover, the "Meta" is clearly not real, although it was bought in a relatively decent "Metro", where a clear fake is still rare. If not for the action, I would never have agreed to this fake. But 360 rubles for five stars even convinced me. Although, of course, it cannot be compared with a normal Greek drink, and, as they say, it was not close. Even in "Masunis"1 or in Thessaloniki, the dutik is an order of magnitude better.

- This is not cognac, and not even brandy, the original composition with the addition of wine, - I make it clear, because Rafik will not lag behind anyway, and the gap between the toasts must be stretched, otherwise some comrades will be “in zyuzyu”, even before we get there to the place. - And the Greeks, they practically do not drink it. Three stars that adore ours for their cheapness are for culinary pastries, five stars and 38 degrees for women, and seven asters for a Russian-speaking tourist of both sexes.

- And what do they drink then? - drinking buddies are sincerely surprised, and even sitting at the steering wheel, Bob, aka Vovan, looks inquiringly in my direction, reflected in the rear-view mirror.

They drink wine, usually dry. It is cheap and of high quality there, and in the heat with water it is the very thing. Men drink tsipouro or ouzo - aniseed vodka. Rare muck, tastes like cough medicine. It is diluted with ice water, almost one to ten - a cloudy white tincture is obtained. So they drink one glass of it for the whole evening, sitting in a cafe with a football broadcast - and so all their lives, day after day

Thank God we're not Greeks! - the unshakable Rafik issued the general opinion. - You have to drink to that.

Where to go from a submarine - you have to drink, diligently adjusting to the amplitude of UAZ jumps on the roads.

- It's good in Greece, probably - again a subtle translation of the topic to me - entertain them, they say, it's still boring on the road anyway.

- Last year, at this time, a collapse occurred in the gorge, the only route connecting the two halves of the country was closed for six months. In general, it is better not to live there in the winter. And yes, it's hot in the summer. And nature and landscapes, you will laugh - exactly the same as we have in the Kalmyk steppe in the summer. The same scorched earth and garbage along the roads, except for the mountains on the horizon. At least where he lived permanently. On the coast, of course, more greenery.

To be honest, the city of Larisa2 is the worst hole in Europe that I have ever been to. Especially in the summer - when the heat is up to fifty in the shade. Greece is very different, and far from the tourist areas, it is not very beautiful and attractive. Probably, the crisis is affecting, but in the absence of the sea and tourists, it's just hell, white-hot and completely scorched by the sun. The only attraction is the headquarters of the first land army and the NATO air base - it is because of this that the locals did not call me anything other than “spy kejibi”. As a joke, of course, - only one name remained from the base - several links of the ancient "Iroquois", as if descended from the screens of the sixties from films about Vietnam.

A city of students and military men in the center of a peninsula scorched by the sun - what is a Russian tourist to do there if he is not a spy? Only engage in concluding a contract for the supply of drip irrigation systems and technologies for growing cotton. The Hellenes, and the Greeks categorically reject the European name given to them by the Romans, each province specializes in growing one major crop. This is done in order to avoid competition with each other. And it must be our governor's itch to grow cotton - that's why I ended up in Larisa, and not in the orange paradise on the peninsula in Corfu or Halkidiki.

As far as I am not an expert in agriculture, but I immediately realized that nothing good would come of this venture. Naturally, apart from the shock development of the next tranche under the Federal Program for the Development of Crop Production.

Until the crisis broke out, it was urgently necessary to master the next lard, and all the farms and factories for the production of milk from powder were already blessed to the very “I don’t want” and overwhelmed with help, so there’s nowhere else to go. Naturally, not all farmers, but only those who are “more equal than equals” and are close to the epicenter where the tranches fall, but it doesn’t matter. In any case, no one will give such money to ordinary peasants. Therefore, Solomon's decision was made to develop cotton growing in the region. And what do I need, I need it - no worse than the tobacco growing project, which died safely a couple of years ago. I'm just a translator, plus a lawyer with an economic background - unofficially, of course. According to the staff, the son of the chairman of the regional Duma is listed as a legal adviser, but he prudently did not go further than the Olympic coast and the hotel in Katerini, and your obedient servant does all the work for him. However, it’s a sin to complain - the “son” never pinches the premium, and in general is a rather charming, simple and cheerful young man, not burdened with knowledge and worries. Each has its own shortcomings. He has a dad.

However, there is dignity in this godforsaken Hellenic hole. The famous monasteries on the rocks are Meteora.

I’ll tell you about this, they won’t lag behind anyway, there was nothing more interesting there, except for an abundance of wine and fruits. Otherwise, you will again have to fill in the "promotional" left "Metaxa" - and this is fraught with cologne-fruity noble belching for at least a day.

I talk about the unique ancient monasteries built on the tops of hundred-meter cliffs, supplementing them with photos on a smartphone - people are sincerely impressed.

- The most interesting thing is that I stole a piece of Noah's Ark. By chance, of course.

- Come on!

- Shurik no more pour!

- Hello, squirrel!

And only Volodya is silent and frowns in the mirror, shaking his head reproachfully. A sincerely religious person - and besides, he almost doesn’t drink, that’s why he pulls the cross, that is, he turns the barracks - and on the “loaf”, the hydraulic drive of the steering wheel is still planned to be installed by the designers in this century, and even that is only possible. So driving a car dinosaur is hard and thankless work, and given the fresh snow and ice on the track, it’s completely hard labor.

“No kidding, that’s how it was. They took us on a tour of these monasteries. It is interesting, of course, ancient history before your eyes, you can really feel it. I just got drunk on the evening before the good, and felt bad - and then there was a terrible heat, it was hot at lunchtime. By the time we got up the mountain, I was completely stumped. I sat down on a bench in the shade, then an excursion is moving past, and what is most fun - for Russian tourists, it turns out that they are brought here from the very coast. And it’s not too lazy for people to fry for twelve hours on the bus.

He took a sip of mineral water - his throat was dry, as if he was again in the heat in the monastery at the very top of a hundred meters, shook his head, driving away the delusion, continued the story:

- And he says, so the guide in a human voice. So, they say, and so, here, instead of a bell, there used to be a board from Noah's Ark itself, the monks knocked on it with a wooden hammer - a beater, calling to prayer. Only now it is under restoration, and therefore it cannot be seen.

Every Friday in the late afternoon in the cafe of the Business Center on Mokhovaya, young guys sell ice cream. It would seem nothing strange, if not for one "but": sellers work for free. These are volunteers - people who are ready to devote part of their time to socially useful work. The proceeds from the sale of ice cream go entirely to the goal. “We even have regular customers,” one of the ice cream volunteers boasted to “NI”. According to her, over 50,000 rubles were raised last year in spring and summer. All the money went to the Mother and Child project in Yekaterinburg.

Free cheese - not only in a mousetrap

In Western Europe and the United States, the movement of volunteers became widespread as early as the century before last. People of all ages, with different incomes, consider it their duty to devote several hours a week to socially useful work. They hold actions to protect the environment, help children from disadvantaged countries, collect things, medicines and money for those affected by natural disasters. According to Gallup International, today in the United States and Canada, 45% of the working-age population is in various volunteer organizations, in Western Europe the figure reaches 67%. In our country, according to the same Gallup, volunteers can be called from 5 to 10% of the population. Our experts consider these figures to be overestimated, since donors, members of the Red Cross Society, and religious, primarily Orthodox, charitable organizations are also included in the volunteers. In addition, those who call themselves volunteers, as a rule, participated in some one-time actions. And volunteering is a special way of life.

“We have 150 volunteers in the Moscow branch, but only 30 of them work regularly,” Dmitry Kuznetsov, head of the Greenpeace Russia volunteer department, told NI. “We need three to four times as many volunteers.” Note that Greenpeace is one of the largest public organizations. It has 53 people on its staff. “Usually, our public organizations have a staff of 2-3 people, without volunteers they simply cannot exist,” explained Yevgeny Gontmakher, head of the Center for Social Policy at the Institute of Economics of the Russian Academy of Sciences, to NI. – The organization is not able to pay for the work of “staff employees”.

The problem of the lack of volunteers in Russia rests on the weak coordination of their work. This movement reached us at a snail's pace only 15 years ago. In the USSR, any private initiative was punishable. However, even 15 years is a term, and there is still not a single full-fledged association of volunteers. At the beginning of the year, Georgy Danilov, director of the Moscow House of Public Organizations, announced the creation of a union of volunteer organizations in the capital.

This union was designed to unite and coordinate the work of about 20 groups, each of which does not contain more than a dozen enthusiasts. However, the idea remained at the development stage. And, as world experience shows, only large funds, which are provided with the widest opportunities and benefits, can unite the efforts of many disparate groups.

volunteering implies selflessness, but money is needed to survive and develop. Such a paradox. “Any charitable, philanthropic organization is based on start-up capital,” Nadezhda Davydova, press secretary of the Refuseniks association, explained to NI. - The Association of Volunteers is a legal entity with its own financial fund. It is impossible to survive without additional funds.”

By the way, “Rejectionists” is a typical example of where volunteers come from. The overwhelming majority are young mothers who have witnessed the hopeless existence of little orphans in hospitals and orphanages. All of them work, study, raise their children, but at the same time they regularly visit "nobody's", buy them clothes, medicines, diapers. “Our help is what is called from the world by thread,” Nadezhda Davydova told NI. – The problem must, of course, be solved globally. However, officials seem to be satisfied that orphans in Russia are helped exclusively by volunteers.” It turns out that volunteers take on the functions of the state. But there is no other way - with low salaries of social workers and poor funding of hospitals and orphanages.

At the same time, it would be naive to think that volunteers are welcomed with open arms everywhere. The distrust of them among social workers is very high, they are looked upon as an extra headache. Not all volunteers have the strength to withstand the constant pressure of distrust, and the "drain of personnel" in the volunteer ranks is great.

Mercy Test

The leaders of our volunteer organizations make no secret of the fact that cadres decide everything here, but it is not easy to select them. This is explained, first of all, by the fact that our compatriots have enough problems of their own. “In the West, they usually become volunteers at the age of 28–30,” says Dmitry Kuznetsov. “A lot of them are retirees. Our elderly people are either infirm or continue to work because they cannot live on their pensions. When should they help other old people? Thirty-year-old our compatriots are busy with their careers. As a result, volunteering in Russia is mainly youth, student.”

The "growth difficulties" of volunteer organizations are connected, first of all, with the fact that charity is not considered a prestigious matter in our country. The volunteers themselves say that it is much easier for their foreign colleagues to work, since all their actions are widely covered in the media and receive support at the state level. We get the impression that some “wretched” people help others. And those who want to sign up as volunteers are sometimes guided by motives that are very far from the goal of the movement - to make society more merciful.

“People, having heard about the work of volunteers for the first time, often believe that all our actions are related to travel and adventure,” Dmitry Kuznetsov explained to NI. – They come to Greenpeace and say, for example, that they want to go to Lake Baikal. Of course, we hold actions there as well, but it takes years of work to prepare such an event. Therefore, we have about 20% of “unscrupulous”, let’s say, candidates.”

It should be emphasized that volunteering is not only difficult, but also dangerous. By helping others, you risk losing your own family. “I was a volunteer for two years,” Maria Sechina, coordinator of the Children program of the Children's Houses Foundation, told NI. - By nature, I am a person who does not know how to plan my time. As a result, relatives began to complain about the lack of attention. Unfortunately, many volunteers have conflicts with relatives.”

It is no coincidence that the first paragraph of the volunteer memo on the website of volunteers in Moscow and the Moscow Region reads: “Remember that you have your own life, family, work and that you are responsible for it. An unfortunate volunteer can't help anyone. Take care of yourself!" But only a few decide to listen to this wise advice.

Trust but check

The suspicion on the part of many organizations of the Russian volunteer movement is often due to its most fanatical associates. In the mentioned memo, the second point is the rule: "It is important not only to help, but also not to harm." In Russia, there is still no clear criterion for selecting volunteers, while in the West, volunteers are being seriously tested. A volunteer there is a synonym for a trustworthy citizen. The movement has become so widespread in the leading countries precisely because the relations of volunteers with society and the state are spelled out in detail there. To whom much is given, much will be required. “In the United States, in order to receive admission to sick children in a clinic, volunteers are required to undergo a serious test, which stretches for two years,” Galina Chalikova, director of the Give Life Foundation, told NI. - During this time, the future volunteer passes a series of psychological tests and passes a large number of tests. And only when the doctors recognize the volunteer as “professional fit”, he can start working.”

Often there are scammers among volunteers. Experts unanimously say: until a clear control scheme is established, part of the funds raised will inevitably end up in the pockets of “rogue volunteers”. “Any person who has made a donation has the right to receive a report on the investment of their funds,” Maria Sechina is convinced. - For example, if you gave money to buy a slide for a playground, you can ask for a check. A letter of thanks from the organization that received assistance can also serve as a report. There are many options. However, most people take volunteers at their word."

Oddly enough, strict control is one of the main guarantees for the survival of volunteerism in Russia. “The scale of volunteer activity is still small, so there is not much corruption there yet,” Yevgeny Gontmakher told NI. But the movement is expanding. Even in the West, where people live in prosperity and go to the volunteers solely from pure motives, a clear system of control has been developed. This is how it should be with us. Only then will the disunited timid attempts to help the disadvantaged result in a real movement.

The executive director of the Sozidanie Foundation, Elena Zakharova, in an interview with NI noted that European companies in Moscow are more willing to consider a resume of a potential employee if he indicates that he was a volunteer. This is the global practice. Volunteering for a century and a half not only proved the right to exist, but also became an example for all kinds of imitation of government officials. Our volunteers, no matter how many there are in reality, remain an “unidentified object”.