History of Students... Students.
We and a friend were brought by fate in the far eighty-eighth (1988) year to the city of Kharkov. Both students, shalopays, are always hungry, cheerful and sociable. In fact, the trip turned out to be spontaneous, in the middle of the night in the community of RYIJT I remembered that my first love is studying in Kharkiv in Kharkiv.
The pedagogical institute. And so I wanted to see her (after a year of separation) that I immediately moved to the station. And Puch (Sasha Slagada - respect for the family) attached to the company.
Now I remember — the nonsense is full — in the night, with three rubles to Kharkiv, to look for a favorite... who, as it turned out, studied in Kiev in some political school or elsewhere...
And then it’s normal: sit down – in the morning in Kharkiv, tickets in the middle, railway students... They went through the day in Kharkiv, the metro is fun, the city is beautiful, people are interesting. None of my friends, of course, were found, although all the deacons of all faculties were put on their ears.
The Peda.
Back to the station in the evening. I went to the box for tickets and took them back.
Rostov two tickets, on the way in the buffet for the last penny bought two coffee with milk, and came to the place where Puch on the bench smoked, waiting for me (well, he was on the train station to walk, and the line to the box office to stand) And next to the bench a young girl, 17, sits. I don’t remember her face or her name now... I only remember that she was listening to my comrade opening his mouth.
Remember Rakhine – “Close your mouth, fool, I’ve already said it all.”
She sat with us on the train, in one couch. Well, periodically for conversations in the tambour they went out to smoke (I was an athlete, cigarettes then did not smoke, 120 from the chest, etc. Only beer loved, actually after three liters and went to Kharkov, but not the essence).
After such an exhaust, she returns all in tears. I ran on a comrade - how can an angel of such offend, and she through tears: - he did not offend me, I just want to go to Rostov with you! This is the power of the deceiver!! to
We arrived at the station of Lozova or Lozovskaya, the girl says - go to me, eat, wash - and then we will see. Maybe I will go with you too. I buy tickets for the train, I have money, I have all my relatives and friends here.
What do we do, go. In general, we came to her home - grandmother welcomed us so, while we were bathing and getting in order, the girl introduced us to her friends, in the same institute we are studying, only for a course older, the money is gone home, here and get to the translation. Grandma is a typical crap, give god health, immediately called some uncle, he called someone else, in general, they told the box office to come and we will be given tickets to Rostov on any passing train.
Sitting to Dinner. The grandmother poured us on a plate of borst, real, Ukrainian, a spoon is in which.. In general, on the plate, a little.. They poured more, then more.. The five-liter pot was smelt together and not dried up.
My grandmother came back from the room and saw the dishes empty. Well, sho, cotton, may additives.. we polently refuse, the eyes close... She raises the lid on the pot... I will not forget the reaction in life - a splash of hands, from surprise sat on the table: Oh, woe to you my diets, you are hungry!!!! No matter what you said, I would have cooked you more potatoes, that salsa lady!!! to
Twenty years have passed, even a little more. I don’t know where my fellow student is, I don’t know where this Ukrainian girl is.
The smell and taste of borst and tears in my grandmother's eyes I remember now.