April 23, 2009
Living in a suburban St Petersburg apartment we notice interesting differences between American suburban life. One most important observation from a man’s point of view is the absence of a garage. Of course a garage is mandatory for any American home. How could we live without, it’s a necessity of life. Where else can all of a man’s favorite toys, tools, and transportation reside?
In Russia, where the environment can closely be compared to the North Slope of Alsaska there appeared to be no garages, no place to keep your most prized possession(s) safe from sun, rain, snow or other environmental hazards. How do the men here survive?
I was sure there had to an answer. I just didn’t immediately recognize the substitute, an “off-site” garage. Real men, no matter what country they reside in, have the same basic necessities of life. These substitute garages looked like our ubiquitous rental storage lockers, however here rather than rent, one generally buys the unit. Like their American counterparts these facilities are often located in some less than desirable part of town, are guarded by a tall rusting fence, and are manned by a retired military person residing in a small shack who checks the comings and goings of the owners and performs other important jobs. These facilities are a highly desired not only for you car but, like Americans, for all the other stuff one accumulates.
As always in Russia there is risk. Not so much the risk of someone breaking into your garage or stealing things, that’s the guard's job to prevent. But it’s the risk of the unexpected that’s always more feared and devastating; such as struck poor unsuspecting Igor the proud owner of a Russian garage. While he had indeed signed a contract, paid the money and owned the garage structure for a number of years, to his utter surprise, out of the blue bad news, very bad news arrived. LEK Construction Corp. builder of highly coveted giant apartment buildings had purchased the land upon which Igor’s garage sat. Ahhh, that fine print which it seems most Russians, like Americans, have a tendency to neglect to read.
Like most caring corporations, Igor’s letter telling how sorry they were about the situation gave him 10 days to get his stinking tin shack off of LEK Construction Corp’s land. Bull dozers will begin dozing in 11 days. Sorry for any inconvenience.
What to do? Nothing of course, resistance is useless against such a large Corporation with connections in all the highest places. “Heck with it, let LEK figure out what to do with my tin shack. I got my stuff.” Igor thought as he loaded his stuff into his car and that was the end of it.
A garage is a virtual necessity for many Russians who for whatever reason don’t choose to put their pride and joy through the terribly harsh driving conditions of Russian winters. Many people only use their autos in the summer, mostly to go to the dacha; hauling the project and building materials there, hauling the fresh fruits and vegetables home. But for many Russians such a luxury as a garage like Igor’s is impossible. They can barely afford their car. It’s in such cases that real Russian ingenuity comes into play. There is always a Russian alternative.
Last autumn, as the smell of approaching winter was in the air, I could see Real Russians making preparations for the soon to arrive frigid days. At the edge of our building I noticed one Real Russian’s answer to the winter garaging problem of his most prized possession, a blue Lada.
Living in a suburban St Petersburg apartment we notice interesting differences between American suburban life. One most important observation from a man’s point of view is the absence of a garage. Of course a garage is mandatory for any American home. How could we live without, it’s a necessity of life. Where else can all of a man’s favorite toys, tools, and transportation reside?
In Russia, where the environment can closely be compared to the North Slope of Alsaska there appeared to be no garages, no place to keep your most prized possession(s) safe from sun, rain, snow or other environmental hazards. How do the men here survive?
I was sure there had to an answer. I just didn’t immediately recognize the substitute, an “off-site” garage. Real men, no matter what country they reside in, have the same basic necessities of life. These substitute garages looked like our ubiquitous rental storage lockers, however here rather than rent, one generally buys the unit. Like their American counterparts these facilities are often located in some less than desirable part of town, are guarded by a tall rusting fence, and are manned by a retired military person residing in a small shack who checks the comings and goings of the owners and performs other important jobs. These facilities are a highly desired not only for you car but, like Americans, for all the other stuff one accumulates.
As always in Russia there is risk. Not so much the risk of someone breaking into your garage or stealing things, that’s the guard's job to prevent. But it’s the risk of the unexpected that’s always more feared and devastating; such as struck poor unsuspecting Igor the proud owner of a Russian garage. While he had indeed signed a contract, paid the money and owned the garage structure for a number of years, to his utter surprise, out of the blue bad news, very bad news arrived. LEK Construction Corp. builder of highly coveted giant apartment buildings had purchased the land upon which Igor’s garage sat. Ahhh, that fine print which it seems most Russians, like Americans, have a tendency to neglect to read.
Like most caring corporations, Igor’s letter telling how sorry they were about the situation gave him 10 days to get his stinking tin shack off of LEK Construction Corp’s land. Bull dozers will begin dozing in 11 days. Sorry for any inconvenience.
What to do? Nothing of course, resistance is useless against such a large Corporation with connections in all the highest places. “Heck with it, let LEK figure out what to do with my tin shack. I got my stuff.” Igor thought as he loaded his stuff into his car and that was the end of it.
A garage is a virtual necessity for many Russians who for whatever reason don’t choose to put their pride and joy through the terribly harsh driving conditions of Russian winters. Many people only use their autos in the summer, mostly to go to the dacha; hauling the project and building materials there, hauling the fresh fruits and vegetables home. But for many Russians such a luxury as a garage like Igor’s is impossible. They can barely afford their car. It’s in such cases that real Russian ingenuity comes into play. There is always a Russian alternative.
Last autumn, as the smell of approaching winter was in the air, I could see Real Russians making preparations for the soon to arrive frigid days. At the edge of our building I noticed one Real Russian’s answer to the winter garaging problem of his most prized possession, a blue Lada.
The Alternative Russian Garage.
The Lada was wrapped
By Nicky with care
In hopes that next spring
It would still be there.
Through out the months of winter the little Lada remained in it’s cozy garage. When the warm sun just starts to be felt once again the switch is flipped in Russian men’s minds. Dreams of the Summer of endless adventure replace the dark, freezing thoughts of winter: road trips to the secrete fishing hole, maybe an overnight to his friend Alexie’s dacha when his parents are gone with a few brewskis, or taking the lovely Natasha to the Finish Bay for a little beach party. Ever since Nicky had seen the lovely Natasha raking leaves at the annual spring school cleanup he couldn’t wait to coolly pick her up and head for the beach. Yes it was shaping up to be a great summer.
Disaster strikes!!!!
Risk is rampant, always right around the corner in Russia. Nicky’s summer of endless dreams instantly went up in smoke - not this year. This poor Russian’s garage somehow caught fire; maybe a careless cigarette butt and his loved little Lada went up in flames. No one knew how the fire began, but by the time the fire department arrived two hours later the little blue Lada was officially declared - “toast”.
What to do?
1) It's no soviet "Lada". This is ukrainian old car "Zaporozhec".
ReplyDelete2) I don't know, what did mean this car owner of, but no "whinter riscue"! :)