sofasurfers

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And finally, the nitty gritty. Building up to a conversation about the reality of Soviet times can be a delicate matter, given the potential suffering involved. My fumbling tactic is start wide open, and ask general questions and then close in. So, via my Derby-lass companion who speaks some fine Russian, it was something along the lines of… Were you born here? “I was born in Belorussia – my family came here when I was 6.” Oh – was that for work? “Yes, my parents came with the Virgin Lands Campaign [Krushchev's agricultural plan, launched in 1954, to develop the virgin Kazakh steppe for grain production].” And were those good times? “Yes! [she calls out to her granddaughter to fetch the photographs] We were paid well, we were given houses, we had good power supplies.” From the stack of photos, an old, worn page of a book is produced – one that has evidently spent considerable time living proudly in a wallet.

“This is my family – this is me (bottom centre). This book was published to send back to people in Russia and Belorussia, to show how migration to Kazakhstan was a success – we were happy! Things are better now than they used to be after Perestroika, when there was no gas, no electricity, no work, but you can’t do anything unless you have money now. Back then, everyone was equal – we all had the same opportunities. There is nothing for the children now unless you pay for it – as Young Pioneers, we could all play sports, there were concerts, games… all for free. There is nothing now here apart from boxing and the children have to pay for it. All they can do now is watch TV.” But what about freedom? “But this isn’t freedom – we can’t do anything.” So with communism, the people weren’t free; now, with the opposite extreme, extreme capitalism – where even the hitchhikers have to pay for their ride in Kazakhstan – it’s the case that nothing is free.