We have not been friends with television for 10 years. No, from his side, the attitude towards me is very worthy - he often lets me to himself, but - unfortunately, it is not mutual. To see him, and even to exalt myself in him, above my strength. Therefore, most often I hear about what is happening in this amazing world either from my grandfather, or in the form of short clips that the partners drop.
Namely one of them showed me a piece of the show "The Secret Millionaire". I really liked the topic. Compared to the races on sports cars, it is 100 points ahead. I remembered the story of one of my acquaintances:
“My friend, Sergey, was very lucky in the 90s. He chose the right niche of business, plannedly developed, paid where needed, changed the "color" of the roof from blue to red in time, and then at the very beginning of 98 began a deal to sell all assets - decided to leave the business, pack in foreign bonds and live in his pleasure somewhere in the warm regions. By the summer, the deal was closed, the money was withdrawn and successfully invested through foreign banks.
Serega sold out small assets such as houses and distributed things to relatives and friends. I then got a puddle, an antique candlestick for 7 kilograms of silver, and some old Lincoln killed. Before leaving, in early August 1998, Sergey and I decided to sit together with him. The house he has already sold, but by agreement with the owners, today made her "arevoar", from the morning handing over the keys to the owners. I don’t remember how it happened, but we talked about the country. About the same homeland, which we hardly knew with him, because both were born and grew up in Moscow in intelligent families. No, we were in the regions, but it was a “look on Africa from the window of a armored jeep,” nothing more. As alcohol was consumed in Sereg, the desire to get acquainted with the Russian depths was born and strengthened before leaving. The result of this desire was a decisive departure from the house to the heart of Arbat in the direction of the region, despite all my cautions. The new owner left the door open and a note with the keys. How many we traveled with him that night and morning - probably 300-400 kilometers. We went to a small town. “All of. I stay here to live. I will learn to love my country.”
My attempts to understand Sereg in the format "You are waiting in Milan, Switzerland and Barbados" failed to convince him.
I was given the keys of the jeep, written a credential and sent a request to take it "in a couple of months."
Eventually I realized that I needed to give him a couple of days to recover, and left for the capital. But when I returned a few days later, I had difficulty finding Sergei. He, dressed in a telogreek, cut wood in the courtyard of some subordinate man, and sent me back to the capital with his mother. A couple of weeks later, I tried again to get Sergey out of this hole, but this time I found him on the market for the sale of a simple snail, and his manner of trading could be envious of the primadonna of Odessa. Most importantly, Sergey was happy. There was a smile on his face, like a fool, but I knew him too well to recognize the feeling of deep and sincere happiness that he lacked so much in the capital.
Well, then, it was August 17, 1998 and I didn’t have to go to Serega for a long time. Not that it wasn’t before him—no, I remembered him. But being financially literate, I understood that his investment in Eurobonds would be subjected to a minimum drop, that he was a lucky man to look for, and that he separated from all that happiness only one ticket to the capital and one call to the bank. Eight months have passed. It was 1999, the crisis grew, the banks collapsed, people were shot for debt and everything was "like not very". I felt a deep loss. There was a bell in the hallway.
When I saw the unknown bearded man in the eye, I asked, “Who?” He almost fell down when he heard Sereghin’s voice. Opening the door, we fell in each other’s arms. Serena was murdered. From a disgraceful Moscow "boy" he turned into a real Russian man, with the smell of the same and garlic. In his eyes was genuine happiness. Sergey just blossomed, looked tight and the smile did not go down from his face. Leaving the surprise of the encounter, I noticed after him on the staircase cage a modestly wrapped in a sweater slightly pregnant girl, apparently embarrassed to approach.
- Meet me, this is Jan, my wife, we are expecting a child with her.
We sat at the table.
Sergei told me how he lived in the Mouth. First found a corner for small work at home, then began to spin around the little things, using business smart. The legend of him was very honest - a Moscow businessman, quarreled with big people, lost business, housing and can not be closer than 300 km to the capital, otherwise they are buried. The locals, far from the capital realities, and remembering the Soviet 101 kilometers, took everything to faith, especially from the Arbat apartment Serega really was discharged and was no longer written anywhere. Sergey helped the citizens as he could and did not climb anywhere. In the autumn I met Jan, fell in love, moved to her house, played a wedding, and now they are expecting a child.
When I quit smoking, Sergey said:
“Thank you for not giving me up. Jane is nothing now. During this year I thought seriously – I won’t be able to live there. I hear that fucking I will be there. So I decided to stay. I why still decided to return - here the newspaper in the local municipality got - "KommersantЪ". I looked at the courses - now clearly the bottom. We need to take assets. If you want, join me too. I also came up with a scheme - through UBS we place euro bonds, then through Cyprus we pump bubbles here and buy shares. Even with a small shoulder. Then I structure the assets and get a mining package, say, in Lukoil or Sibneft. What an idea? You won't believe, wood when you roll - it doesn't come to mind yet. I advise.

P.S Sergey eventually became a minority of several of the country’s largest companies. I even saw him once in the "list of someone there" with the signature "investor". He didn't tell his wife, he just said that he had found a place and arranged things.

P.S.2 - the citizens who helped him, Sergey also thanked - and wisely. He leased various agricultural machinery or trucks to a partner's company and gave them to the locals free of charge on the terms of a regular TO. You cannot drink - it is not yours, you will not serve - you will be taken. Young talented people in the capital helped to build.