By the 21 th anniversary of nezalezhnosti

By the 21 th anniversary of "nezalezhnosti"About this celebration "day or nezalezhnosti" I thought with the filing of relatives in Ukraine. Remembered it empty for me of days — and reflections claimed in childhood. The fact that all of my relatives — from Ukraine. And my father, and my mother's band. It is not out of the east, and from the central and even western (Transcarpathia). There, my cousins, sisters, nephews, aunts, grandmother. Himself I was born and raised in Odintsovo, near Moscow, and always felt like Russian. As a child, I spent every summer in the Ukrainian villages with relatives. And though it was already late 80's — early 90's, I had a strong feeling of one big different country, one nation and 1st stately living language. Thence weird for me the words (and in general Transcarpathia own nothing on similar language, in every village a separate dialect of the language) were perceived as the local language feature less. Immediately fun feature, immediately curious, but under no circumstances is not a sign of some kind of isolation. Again, it's been 90 years, when vengeance raged political nationalism and separatism. But at the household level, at the level between the relationships of people and my children's perception of reality that was not there, not yet seeped into the popular strata. Yet, apparently, in the middle of the inertia of ordinary people continued to live that feeling of one nation, brotherhood and shared values.

I remember what wide soul was the people. How to naturally felt themselves, were not locked and not dissociated themselves. As nothing is shared and not beheld each competitor. As sung alternately by Russian and Ukrainian songs and drove friend other visits annually. As an uncle, while Garnier man in his prime, the best welder in the village, hunky-crest, went after me in the truck-mounted crane "Ivanovec" as I rubbed the corn and could not go on, and he worked in the machine shop,. where at that time there was no other car. As with Ukrainian boys drove the stony streets on my bike "Ukraine", talking on the Russian language and the local language and not paying attention to the "public issue." Just because it was not and could not be.

It took some time, it is kind of small — and everything seems the same, but it is not so. And the people are the same, but completely different. Closed, were wroth, twitching, stood apart from something zapazuhoy — as if not native. No, of course, dear ones! — Assure us friend other and there is a studied supplement: just from different countries, different nationalities, the neighbors "like." And the uncle naidobreyshy hearted man, a hard worker and besserebrenik, I suddenly became a mother, and a neighbor said to me gromozvuchno "So Crimea is ours!" What Crimea? Why Crimea? "Our Crimea has always been! Do you wish it away!" I see my uncle says phrases from tele stamp for a stamp, a stamp for a stamp. And because I know that it is not out of malice, that he used to own as a board. We sat down, had a drink, recalled the "Ivanovec" and talked together in Russian — all solved the problem of the Crimea, we are one people, and generally "because of the on-island Strehler-ezhene on a river-or wave" …

But you come in subsequent times — the same and yet with great rage, Behold, Muscovites bastards blocked the gas, Putin scum and off it went. But even this open, as previously soul wide open, honest, decent, nothing conceals that reflects, even on the tongue. Naidobreyshey hearted man, and know for sure that if tomorrow would attack Russia, he first will be on the defense. His health and long years. What's all the same to the other — isolated, alienated nothing. And like talking about something, but nothing. Like and joking, but quickly trying to joke. Like and try to be as open and honest before, but something is not right. All sharp edges go around, afraid to let out. And somehow that is not common. On the policy? Oh to hell with it! The life? Let's life. You know, those things that … Ugh, politics again. Again Crimea. Only disappointment in the breast spreads everyone on himself. The fact that there is as before. The fact that not enough of something.

And that's what is typical. In dealing with them next to the praise of his "Nenko" and her "nazalezhnosti" here is a word — no! — And hear the lamentation of the fact that everything is destroyed, there is not something wrong here, and as has been previously well. But what is it about the Russian Federation and there is at least some threat of bad matching her Ukraine, here tuft forward — yes from us! yes we are! so what have you? one gas and all, ha ha ha! .. But if it is open up, if it does break through. Often it all for nothing, boring and painful. Just is not about the past or about any recall quite dull grind things. But it is not about life, not the most important thing. And aware of it, and his eyes even more omitted, and are closed from ourselves, reflected in the relatives.

As a youth, it seemed to me that this is all my personal subjectivity that essentially nothing has changed between people, all as before, just when I was a child, and grew up at the moment and miss the sincere and trusting perception of reality. Partly because it is, for sure, and it is. But later I learned that exactly the same feeling and the older generation. Well almost a sense of melancholy and the same horrible conclusion, with the only difference being that the elders do not want to, so afraid of openly and harshly formulate them. And to me their reluctance is understandable: it is very painful to admit that lost something very valuable, in fact, the particle itself themselves.

It hurts, but I think it is very essential. Urgent need to put a frank diagnosis to be able to recover, by themselves, to become.

Guys, you are my brothers ridni, yes, you understand in the end that we are artificially separated and disconnected. Between us we are torn linking thread, and was left virtually nothing in common. We were led to believe that we are only just neighbors. That each has its own history and its own values. But we are not neighbors, we are one people — in all its majestic abundance. We have the same values, the overall majestic story that does not diminish the story of a small country each of us. One language with different dialects and movami, the difference between which is less than the difference between the dialects of northern Italy and southern. Our people have great overall House and mighty destiny, one for all superb mission on earth, which we have no right to change it.

If we do not understand it, do not look at each other honestly and directly in the eye without will express themselves for themselves all the plain truth from the heart, in our opinion, as soon as we are able — and then we will sit at the table looking down glumly, with smell the wide open heart. Ivana no past, real and coming.

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