A 80-year-old woman in a dress "under the zebra", with large earrings in her ears and a bright red manicure, speaks on the phone at the entrance to "Bulanjeri":

Seriously, I don’t understand you. What are you breaking? The grandchildren will take you to the train, take you into the wagon, unload you to the shelf, you will be shaken a little, and in the morning we and the girls will overload you in a comfortable taxi and bring you to the place. What are you saying? What years? I did not understand. Not those years? Why not those years? You don’t even have to get up, Vera. You were taken, moved, laid, taken again, moved, laid. From hand to hand, from hand to hand, and you are no longer there, but here. Your task, Vera, is very simple – lying down, drinking champagne and occasionally sending signals to others that you are still alive and want supplements.