Rescue in the water 5.
Run away, run away... 2nd(It is harsh)
In the early 90s we were engaged in supplies to Kazakhstan of all kinds for the needs of oil and railways. Failure to pay and other problems. To support the flood, they decided to introduce mutual accounts.The easiest thing, as it seemed, was to take payment with grain.
We found a reliable intermediary and the scheme worked.A couple of times everything went well, and then this story happened.
It was late autumn and there was often snow. I lived in one of Petropavlovsk hotels and waited for the start of the next shipment.
Closer to the evening came, already a little familiar Kazakh and suggested to meet. In the morning d. I promised to put the wagon under load on the elevator and we should have been there. The road was, according to Kazakh concepts, not far, about 300 km.
As soon as we left the city, there was a heavy snow. Nothing special, we and the Urals, we are not used to.A little later, a strong side wind was suffocated, visibility fell sharply. When they passed the first hundred, it became completely unbearable, nothing was visible. The snow flew at a furious speed parallel to the ground and where the road was unclear. The traveler was not confused by this situation and he gave a useful, in his opinion, advice. Saying that they-Kazakhs in such weather drive without problems, only for hearing.If you stumble on the left - you are on the opposite side, if on the right, then the opposite.
So we went on, listening sensitively to the behavior of the car.After a while, I normalized and we were able to increase the speed.After half an hour, my "shutterman" compelled me to praise. But the music didn’t play for long. Five minutes later, after a gentle comment, we were stuck. We went out to push out the car and realized that we were not on the road. It was terrible to go far, there was a risk of losing. One thing was clear, there was no road in the radius of 100 meters. We decided to wait for the morning. Loading we asked...it was understandable and the simple wagons would have to pay out of their own pocket. There was no collision, no one was to blame.
The morning welcomed us with a bright sun and a complete absence of wind. But when we got out of the car, we fell into a complete stupor. There was a white desert around us. There was only a steppe at the horizon. Where the road or human housing is, was unclear. Without deciding anything, we went back into the car and decided to wait for the developments. By lunch it was clear that something had to be done. We went out and went in different directions in the hope of finding a path or trace of civilization. Returned with nothing.
The evening came. Gasoline was less than a quarter of the tank. We had enough fuel in the morning. How to continue? They decided to burn to preserve the heat of the reserve. Don’t believe those who say that rubber burns well. We pulled out two liters of gasoline and dug a dozen decent holes into the wheel until we could light it. It was the second morning of our captivity. We met him cloudy. Cigarettes and patience are gone. Sadly, the absence of almost new car 3 wheels and unhealthy color of our faces. The mulats could easily take us for theirs.
It became clear that the extreme is over and the pizza begins.
We stood quietly at the smelly fireplace and stared sadly into the distance. To proudly "leave" through suicide there was neither desire nor technical possibility. We were just stupidly waiting for something, a miracle, a sign.
and waited. A cloud appeared on the horizon and it was moving! Soon we realized it was a tractor that was something huge wolf on the steppe. It turned out that he pulled a healthy seed.
How I broke him up. I flew like a sprinter I am not. Not enough to jump out in front of him a little, miserable 300 meters.I tried to catch up, but he was driving faster than me.
The tractor left, but his trail remained. I went back to the car, we quickly gathered together and followed the trail. It took almost 4 hours to go.
As we reached the village, we reached the first house on the road. The owner came out and... talked to us in German.
We did not speak the language very well and polently said goodbye on the street.
As it later turned out, the owner of the house was a Volga German resettled to Kazakhstan. He was a kind and polite man. Just seeing our unfamiliar and stuck rows, he forgot the Russian language for a while from a nervous shock.
In the next house, the door was opened to us by "Taras Bulba" (exterior one in one), a Ukrainian family lived here, who came, during it, to the whole. He was also a little discouraged by our visit, but was able to gather and tell us where we were.
We found ourselves in one of the branches of a former grain farm giant.
We did not have time to get to the center of the village, as near us stopped "Jiguli". It turned out that the German called the president and he came to see us.
Ural Nuralovich-I will never forget this holy name. He came as an elderly man not with questions, but immediately with answers. The answers were salt cucumbers, a piece of salt and a three-liter bank of самогоon. Kazakhs are a wonderful and kind people, but this...
He silently melted the snail on the cap and poured on a glass. They silently drank and smoked.
The Germans and Ukrainians climbed. Drink with them. And only then the chairman asked, "Are you chumazienki from where and for a long time to us?" He listened to our story, laughed and invited guests. He offered a bathroom, blood and a phone.
Near the morning they sent us a car and we left to load.
Two days later I came back. My car was already standing in the yard of a new friend. All four wheels were in place. Local men distinguished from generosity (the money categorically refused). And let all the wheels differ in the pattern of the protector and the size, and it was only one (my). It was already a full car and I could go home. The peasants with respect for high sports performance, that I ran without less than 3 km. It was a pity that no one had time to find it.
With the first warmth, my companion and I returned to this sovhoz on several cars filled with thread and thanked for the warm welcome. Drinking lasted three days. After the "Celina" very many people stayed there to live and I saw almost the entire international.
And here we sat at a common table, the hell knows what Kazakh deaf, representatives of almost all nationalities and nationalities, one once for us all countries. Someone loved this country, someone was proud of it, someone hated it. It was not important. We were together well, warm and comfortable. There were no disagreements or disputes. We all came from where we spent our childhood and youth. Unfortunately, this time is not to be returned.
After this story, I and the Kazakh brothers have established such a warm and trusting relationship that we are friends and trust each other absolutely. by this por.
P.S Snow is one of the aggregate states of water.
by Vladimir.
5 November 2022.