In one of MN's December issues (No. 48) last year I mentioned Pavel Punin, who lives in the easternmost corner of Kostroma Region. I responded to a letter he sent me after my interview in a Kostroma weekly, and asked him how
people were faring in these difficult times in remote spots. Pavel answered that these were indeed difficult times, like the years 1946 and 1947 following the Second World War. In his opinion, we were descending into chaos once again.
The district he lives in has a population of 6,400. At its peak, the district boasted up to 18,000 inhabitants. The collective farm (now known under the mysterious abbreviation of APC) at which he has worked all his life had 12 villages, each with 40 to 60 families. Today there are two villages left with 62 gainfully employed and 40 retired people. In 1980 the number of gainfully
employed was 140, and they farmed 1,300 hectares; today only 300 hectares are still in use. Wages are between 500 and 700 rubles (about $20) a month. There are virtually no younger people left in the area. The age of working people is mostly between 45 and 50. The day nursery looks after a total of five children. The school is expected to close down next year, since there are no
kids to go to the first grade.
The younger people have mostly moved to larger towns or closer to them. It is obvious that the main problem is lack of any economic opportunities in the sticks.
Pavel remembers the times when the horse was the main breadwinner for rural people. Today, he says, there are no horses left on the farm. Soon, he predicts, there will be no tractors left, and we'll have to use cows to plow
the fields. Things are particularly difficult for retired people. Although they live in a forest area, firewood is a big problem, since the forest is now a source of income for entrepreneurs. Pensioners have to travel great distances to procure firewood. No one cares about the elderly. There are no real privileges for them.
There have been instances when pensioners were murdered for their meager savings.
As for the milk, meat and vegetables produced by the locals in their own households, the prices at which they are forced to sell them are woefully low: 14 cents for a liter of milk, $1 for a kilogram of beef and less than $2 for a kilogram of pork. So people only raise livestock for their own use.
As Pavel recalls, our fathers cleared the woodland of trees and stumps, while today the fields are becoming overgrown with brush and young trees. Pavel's verdict is unequivocal: We only blame the country's leadership. The fish rots from the head.
Bogovarovo butter is known for its high quality and excellent taste. The farmers who produce the milk which is processed into butter get very little for the milk, but there is nothing they can do since the creamery has been bought by a Kostroma company, and there is no competition. The company sells
the butter for more than $2 a kilogram. If the company goes bankrupt, the local people will have to pour their milk into the gutter (only there are no
gutters in the Russian countryside).
So what is the cause of the appalling situation described by Pavel? The main
problem in this case is the nearly total absence of infrastructure. The second problem is the continued existence of the collective farm, which operates basically in the way it did in Soviet years.
While most of Pavel's complaints are shared by ordinary people in the countryside, he has a broader vision than most. He does not defend the collective-farm system unequivocally.
In fact, in an article he wrote for his local newspaper he truthfully described his experience working as a driver for the farm chairman during 12
years. The farmers had no incentive to work better. Only when the chairman checked and double-checked fulfillment of assignments were things done. Often the farmers went on drinking binges and failed to do their jobs. The tractor
operators did not take care of their machinery, which they did not regard as
their own.
However, thanks to the chairman's persistence and persuasion the situation on the farm gradually improved. A water supply system was built, a gas main installed, and telephones placed in farmers' homes. A hard-surface road was completed (most local officials resisted road construction, since a good road meant more frequent inspections from the center), and a bus ran regularly to
the district seat.
The chairman differed from most other chairmen. He never did anything for effect and did not claim higher results than he had. Finally, as Pavel points out, he did not build himself a luxury home.
The chairman died in 1998, his heart failed him, and since then it's all been downhill.
Pavel does not idealize the "good old times," but there is a note of nostalgia in his story. Ordinary people, particularly the older part of the population, will never come to terms with what is happening today. The private farmers some (particularly foreigners) dreamed of never materialized
in any significant way. Instead, far-out agricultural areas are now dying out and their population consists of the elderly who have been left by the roadside of life. And never was there a story of greater woe than the story of the Russian countryside.