A huge Real Estate billboard greeted me as I pulled into Novgorod. It promises the all-Russian dream to a young couple – their very own pre-fab concrete Soviet home.
Yes, perhaps the girl in this advertisement does look a little naive – if not the recent recipient of a lobotomy. Nevertheless, I still contacted the agent for a place to rent in Novgorod. My whole purpose here is to experience the raw horror of provincial Russian living and the agent did not disappoint.
That’s how I got to living on Perimeter Road on the outskirts of town. Between here and St. Petersburg – three hours by train – there’s a kind of void. Well, what does it matter, most of Russia is a void anyway. And since I’ve been here, I can’t help humming the old Steve Earle song, ‘Nowhere Road’:
“I’ve been down this road just searching for a bend, It don’t go nowhere it just brings you back again”
Actually, this is more than you can say for Novgorod buses. Buses here travel in eccentric circles, so you can’t get the same number bus back to where you came from. Maybe no-one can imagine you wanting to go back to where you came from. It’s understandable. The all-Russian dream evaporates as soon as you cross the threshold into your new old Soviet apartment.
My immediate problem was the Warsaw Pact era cooker. Only two burners but each one has the power of four regular hobs. So, tricky to whip up a souffle but excellent for welding farm equipment at home.
The furniture is absolutely ‘Fablonous’. Haven’t seen Fablon since the Sixties – and probably you don’t remember the sticky plastic paper with 1001 household uses. Here it covers the old wooden table and rusty fridge in matching marble-effect.
What most turned me on to this apartment was the Soviet bathroom. Notice that the Olga who had the apartment before was very color co-ordinated – even her hair curlers are red and gold. This bathroom deserves a Lenin Prize.
Update. I lived here on a couple of occasions prior to moving to St. P. Time enough to find out all the little things that don’t work – like the heating, lighting and water. It’s apparent that Russian husbands have to be handy, with a good eye for cutting Fablon and a working knowledge of Soviet technology. I’m not convinced that many are up to living the all-Russian dream and noticed a disturbing number stopping by the local stall for a ‘Stress Test’.
