Sunday, May 27, 2012

A Day at the Dacha

Vladik and Misha walk through the village after buying matches down the road.

In Russia and post-Soviet countries, it is very common for families to have a dacha, a simple summer home in a little village. These homes are not elaborate, often without hot water or plumbing or  electricity, which is why so many families can afford them. Dachas offer a chance for families to escape the hot, dirty cities and relax in a little place all their own where they can tend a veggie garden and grow enough fresh fruits to can for the whole winter. 

Following this tradition, many Kyrgyz and Russian families in Bishkek also have dachas where they spend weekends or good chunks of their summer. Earlier this month, our friend Pasha invited us out to their dacha in a little village called Pakrovka about 30 minutes out of the city. Enhancing the Russian element of the experience, we all piled into Pasha's 1974 Zhiguli - a standard "no-frills" car released in the Soviet Union from 1970 to 1988.



I jumped into the back seat with the four boys - Misha, Sebby, Vladik and Yarik.


Pasha and Josh relaxed up front. After a stop at the bazaar to buy several kilos of meat (Pasha was feeling hungry!), we drove to Pakrovka and got to see Pasha's place. Since they had electricity, they had a fridge and other conveniences, but when I asked where the bathroom was, Pasha just smiled and motioned all around him as he whispered, "Vezdye...!" (Everywhere!) Lots of broken equipment was laying around, but luckily the kids were much too busy playing in the yard to bother with touching anything off-limits. They ran around looking at bugs, flowers, and the nest of baby birds. They played in the little irrigation ditch, squirted each other with water guns, and grilled hot dogs. As always when the boys are around Russian-speaking friends, they impress me with how well they communicate. Sebby especially surprises me, because he is so little and yet he just jumps into speaking Russian very conversationally, without thinking anything of it.



Squirt gun war


Sebby and Yarik play by the ditch





Various vegetables grew in their garden, and what was not intentionally planted thrived with just as much gusto - from dandelions to wild marijuana (which, we are told, is no good for smoking, but can be enjoyable added to tea).




On the menu was the ever-popular staple: shashlik. We chopped up our pork, marinated it in sour cream and onions, let it work its magic, and then skewered it for the fire. While we waited for the shashlik, the boys grilled a few hot dogs to curb their hunger.





Hot dog ready to eat - and not even too burnt!



The shashlik eventually cooked to perfection, and we ate it with raw onion and vinegar, as always. Delicious!




Pasha brandishes his hot-off-the-grill skewers.





Playing in the Zhiguli

After eating as much as we could handle, we drank tea as the kids played, and in the late afternoon, we cleaned up and got ready to go back to the city. By that point, the kids' clothes and shoes were soaked and smeared with mud and ashes. The fitting end to the day was a nice, long bath. And laundry. :)


1 comment:

Bill said...

Fun pictures! Looks like my days growing up on the farm! -mom