Congratulations to everyone involved on Medical Worker's Day. Probably, everyone has had situations in life for which we could thank doctors. And today there is just a reason to wish all doctors good health, success in their work and well-being.
We always congratulate our mother on this day. After all, she has 40 years of medical experience, she is a candidate of medical sciences, a neurologist, and even though she is retired now, this profession remains with a person for life.
Those who have been reading my magazine for a long time remember that a couple of years ago my mother published a memoir book, “Notes of a Native Kharkov Woman.” Then I criticized her that in the book she did not reflect the most interesting memories - about her student years. And now the manuscript of my mother’s second book is ready. We called it “Understanding the Secrets of Aesculapius.” In it, my mother wrote about her choice of profession, her years as a student, interesting cases from his medical practice. I think today is the right day to introduce readers to a chapter from my mother’s future book. It is called
Our first classes in anatomy (anatomy building) were a serious test for me. The first lectures were given to us in this building. The anatomist had Big hall, located in the form of an amphitheater, with a huge ceiling painted with paintings. In the center - below - there was a pulpit, behind which our professors gave lectures to us. The morphological building on Lenin Avenue (now Nauki Avenue) was just being completed at that time. And lectures on first-year specialties (anatomy, physiology, microbiology, etc.) were given to us in anatomy. From the first days of our stay at the institute, anatomy was our main place of study. Without knowledge of anatomy it is impossible to study further. Anatomy classes! ABOUT! How young we were then, almost children, standing over the corpse in our white coats. And the smell of formaldehyde and some kind of gray paste that was once human.
Fig.1. Our group is in anatomy classes. I'm in the bottom
row, first from left
Among student folklore at all times there was such a joke song:
"From Eve and Adam
The stubborn people went
The cheerful people went
Students live happily
From session to session,
And sessions are only twice a year.
We'll walk the day
We'll be sick for two.
And then we don’t know boom-boom.
So let's drink to those who were walking,
For those who knew nothing.
So let’s drink to those who dealt at random.”
Some students even in our time studied this way, as the song says. But this did not apply to medical students. From the first months we studied passionately, with great interest, like obsessed people. Otherwise it was impossible. Without a thorough knowledge of normal human anatomy and physiology, it would be impossible to move further towards the study of various pathological conditions human body. And so we spent all our evenings from the first days of school in the anatomy department, where there was a wonderful museum, preparations and corpses on which we dissected, studied, studied, studied. It was probably difficult for all of us then in this new life for us, and there was fear, but we overcame it together, as a group.
And how different we, then, were from modern students! Everyone lived the same way, there was no luxury: very modest clothes, there were no beautiful bags and other accessories, but only small cheap suitcases in which we put our dressing gowns, and often carried skeleton bones and skulls with us, constantly studying.
Rice. 2. Our group after class
We tried to memorize everything in Latin, as teachers and experienced experienced students told us.« Supinator u pronator, two extensors and that’s it.” I still remember. And there were many such examples. And even nicknames for some students were given in Latin from anatomy.
Rice. 3. Our group on a walk
Yes, classes at the medical institute had their own specifics, sharply different from everything that was studied in other universities, except for Marxism-Leninism. And some couldn't stand it. One very good girl from our course was unable to study and left at the end of the year.
And our group was special. We supported each other and helped each other. Explained to those who didn’t understand “eminentio" Andsulcus¢ we searched togetherbulli arterii, et venul¢ s. And they stayed in the anatomy until late in the evening. And then we went out into the fresh air, and it hit our heads like wine after many hours of student vigils.
A lot of strength, energy, and our intellect went into anatomy. But it was the basis, without knowledge of which further study would have been pointless. And we understood this. Now I'm surprised how without knowledge elementary mathematics people study in technical universities. And if in senior years, when we studied clinical disciplines, teachers told us: “The pulsation ona. Dorsalis pedis» , For example. We knew where to probe it. Because in the first years we studied for real. I wanted to remember everything, to know everything, so that later I could become doctors. This was our strongest motivation. And this is for life. Not a day without professional literature, not a day without learning something new in your medical field. “The patient - the book - the patient,” the talented therapist of our time, Tareev, bequeathed to us young people. And we fulfilled this covenant throughout our working lives.
The main god in anatomy was then Professor R. Sinelnikov, living in Kharkov and working at the Medical Institute. I still have one of the volumes of the anatomy atlas he created, which was given to me by A., my sister’s husband, with the inscription: “Tomke in honor of admission to KhMI.”
The author of the atlas himself was also a student famous professor Vorobyov, who embalmed V.I. Lenin. And there was even a joke going around among the students. Allegedly Vorobyov, turning to R. Sinelnikov, said: “Rafka! Give me some shoes." I think this is just an invention of the students, such a stupid joke. In fact, one could only approach Professor Sinelnikov with the deepest respect. For everything about him revealed high intelligence, culture and kindness. He was small, already old (from the height of our youth), gray-haired, with a soft, kind smile. I remember how I passed the exam for him. I was very worried, although I knew the answers to all the questions. “Baby,” he said, interrupting my answer. “Don’t worry, count how many times you will have to take exams throughout your years of study. And what will happen to you if you always worry like this? Calm down! Remember my words." And I remembered them all my life, even after graduating from college. And this has helped me a lot in my life to maintain my health.
In addition to the anatomy that worried us, there were other, very interesting “sciences”. I remember the lectures on normal physiology, which were read to us by Professor Alpern, tall, slender, with a well-trained voice. And just as the lectures were interesting, the practical classes were also interesting. On practical exercises I had a hard time. I couldn’t cut frogs and rats at all. And then we arranged an exchange in our group: one of the boys, by agreement, would cut up a rat for me, and I would translate whole sheets of paper from English to him.
Rice.4. During practical classes in histology
We were fixated on the same English texts many times, and I still remember the pediatrician Dombrovskaya from these texts and her guidelines: “A day spent by a child without air is a day lost to his health.” And all my later life When most of my peers became parents, I repeated this phrase for them. But, in general, practical classes with frogs, rats, biochemical cones and test tubes, microbiology, etc. flashed by like one day.
The hardest thing for me was during the practical classes in forensic medicine, when for the test I had to independently dissect the next corpse that was subject to a forensic medical examination. And here there was no way to escape. We haven’t dissected rats and frogs for a long time; it was no longer possible to exchange English with the boys. I'm lucky. When my turn came, the deceased turned out to have died from methylated spirits poisoning. And the smell of the fumes of this substance overwhelmed absolutely all odors, even corpses. I did a good job.
The lectures on microbiology aroused my great interest. The respected, then middle-aged Professor Derkach read them to us. Unfortunately, I read it boringly, in a monotonous, fading voice. Few people listened to him. Everyone was doing their own thing: preparing for the next classes, reading, chatting, etc. And suddenly, amid the lulling silence of the lecturer’s boring voice, a loud exclamation was heard: “Do you hear? Spirochete Obermeyer!” And in an even louder voice with a raised hand: “Obermeyer's spirochete! You hear?" Everyone suddenly woke up and listened to his exclamations, and after that part of the lecture on syphilis.
And among the teachers without high scientific titles and merits, I remember Associate Professor Stupina, always a beautifully dressed, well-groomed, beautiful woman. She addressed us with the invariable “Hello, fellow students.” And this “comrade students” sounded like a military call, it was said in a clear, sonorous, ringing voice, like an appeal from a commander to his army. Time passed, and we moved to senior years, where clinical disciplines had already begun.
During our senior years, we all “got sick” with the diseases that we studied in clinics. Our teachers examined us all and gave their verdict: “Healthy.” Even then, we looked closely at the features of different medical specialties in order to choose one. At the same time, we were being trained to be local doctors in rural areas. Sometimes we went with teachers to rural outpatient clinics and hospitals and learned the basics of healing in practice. In addition, the training program included practice, which I will write about later.
I remember the faces of the students in our group in elementary school down to the smallest detail.x courses. Headman Volodya M. is a thin, black-moustached boy from the Kharkov region. Beautiful, modest Ukrainian beauty, tall, slender, black-eyed Lilya S. From Sumy, very well-mannered, all in herself, with emotions that rarely come out. And next to her is Valentina P. - plump, with a constant six-month perm with small light brown curls, very sedate, not at her young age, who seemed older than us in her attitude to life and to study.
The biggest mocker in the group is Ivan K., lanky, somewhat awkward, slow, imposing labels on some of us, who were often distinguished by their malicious content and were offensive, but accurate. And the most cheerful of the boys was Alik D. - a lanky, thin guy, pure blond with curly curls. I remember that during short breaks between 2-hour classes he constantly ate rolls, and we laughed at him. And then it turned out that he apparently already suffered from diabetes. Hence the increased appetite.
There were also two girls in the group who became my favorite friends: Sveta T. and Emma F. Emma F. is from Sukhumi, a purebred Armenian. Her brother Armavir Karapetovich was already a doctor at that time, and later became a famous specialist operating in the field of thoracic surgery. I first met her at the apartment where she lived with Armavir, somewhere on Moskalevka. At that time I was very shy. She was embarrassed when she saw Armavir. And he asked me: “Tomochka! Are you from Poltava? And I became even more embarrassed after these words, thinking that he considered me a deep provincial for asking such a question. And my love for music brought me together with Emma. I grew up listening to the music I heard on the radio. And Emma graduated from a music college. She was a professional. She and I went to our Kharkov Philharmonic many, many times, where famous musicians performed in those years, including S. Richter.
Oh, how unusually cozy, homely and at the same time classically austere was our Kharkov Philharmonic in brown tones, which now no longer exists. It was demolished. It was located on the corner of Sumskaya opposite the 1st Komsomolsky cinema (now there is a store there).
During the years of my studies and later before the demolition of the Philharmonic, queues for tickets to it stretched throughout Sumskaya, almost to former store"Juice-Water" and medical library. I remember how there were no tickets for one of the concerts of a famous pianist performing Chopin, and I went to the administrator. “Are you studying at the conservatory?” - he asked me. And I was very surprised to learn that I was a student at the Medical Institute.
In general, during the years of our studies (the middle of the twentieth century) there was the highest peak of culture. And most importantly: everything was accessible. And now - astronomical ticket prices, and, alas, the level of performers is not the same, in a word, pop!And that's it.
Emma was very wise beyond her age; huge brown eyes, a hooked nose, like Anna Akhmatova’s, a low, chesty voice. I perceived her as a person very close to me.
During my senior years I often visited their house, which was already my own, on beautiful Shatilovka. It was green, all in gardens, the best area of Kharkov, located on a hill above the spring mineral water- “Kharkovskaya 1”. And next to it is a park and again it’s all greenery. It was even better to breathe there than in other places. There, on Shatilovka, in their garden, we often studied, preparing for the next exams.
Emma loved Armenia very much. She often invited me to visit: “When I come, I will show you the mountains of Armenia.” It didn't come true.
Well, my closest classmate and friend was Sveta T. Cheerful, funny, pretty, smart. All student years I am connected with Sveta.
Rice. 5. Me and Sveta T. in the park
I loved her mother very much - Maria Nikolaevna. They then lived on Moskovsky Prospekt in one of the high-rise buildings. We often studied together in her apartment, and my mother took care of us, fed and watered us, and once, when I spent the night with them, she put us to bed. And all this with such care and kindness that I will remember it all my life. Strict and at the same time soft, kind, and Sveta was a little like her. Her mother treated me well, like a daughter. And Sveta sometimes used this to her advantage. When she left late for dates, she told her mother that she was coming to see me. And her mother trusted me very much: if I met with T., then everything would be okay. I always remember Maria Nikolaevna and will remember. And when I met Maria Nikolaevna, I always wanted to cuddle up to her, like to a loved one. Her average height, slightly plump figure, tired face with early wrinkles, short gray and gray hair, and loving gaze always exuded some kind of warmth. But there was also severity in her, but not an imperious one. Last time I saw her when I came on vacation from Voroshilovgrad, my working Belyanka. She greeted me like her own daughter. And Sveta was even dissatisfied with our long communication with her mother. “After all, T. came to me,” said S. “But I also want to talk to her,” my mother answered.”
When we switched to studying clinical disciplines, we were reorganized into other groups. And I had new fellow students and classmates. Among them, Stanislav G. (S.G.) especially stood out. Small, dense, below average height, with small gray eyes, an expressionless face, he captivated us with his intellect. And then his appearance - not handsome - faded into the background. He was mainly friends with the girls in our group, and every mother of her daughter considered S. her fiancé. He had “one but fiery passion.” He loved the theater to the point of adoration. And I dreamed of a theater institute. But his mother, whom he loved very much, intervened in his choice of profession. And she didn’t allow him to go to theater school. She chose medical school for her son. And he turned out to be an obedient and loving son.
Rice. 6. At the clinic door. I'm with Stanislav G.
Before its demolition, the Theater Institute was located on the corner of Sumskaya between the current Mirror Stream and a Japanese restaurant (formerly a vending machine). It was a beautiful blue and white building, the dream of our S. And he spent all his free time from studying in this theater, where he made many friends among future actors and actresses. His life constantly flowed not only in our reality of the Medical University, but also in the world of the theater. Often in front of us he copied the then fashionable heroes of films and theatrical productions, and I must say - very similar. His love studied in the same theater, because of which he took a direction to work in the same place where she was sent - to the Voroshilovgrad (now Lugansk) region.
During our years of study, the White Horse organization appeared in our Kharkov theater theater, which united theater students who had extraordinary views on our then reality. The White Horse was, of course, destroyed. After working in the periphery for the required period, S. entered graduate school and worked all his life at the medical institute in the department of histology. But he remained faithful to the theater as a spectator. Throughout my life I ran to the theater after work. regular performances. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he did not have a family.
And the biggest aristocrat in our newly created clinical group was Oleg K. Nobody called him an aristocrat. It was I who mentally gave him this nickname. Slender, with beautifully cut blond hair, wearing horn-rimmed bicycle glasses, always elegantly dressed in a black velvet jacket or suit, with an expensive leather briefcase. He stood out among all the students and attracted attention. He stood out from general level even living in an aristocratic house - Salamander on Sumskaya. He answered brilliantly in all classes and was an excellent student. He was predicted to have a brilliant future in science.
Oleg had a love for E., a student in our group, the daughter of his mother-professor. After graduation, O. and E. left for Leningrad, where, it seems, E.’s mother lived. In Leningrad, O. gave birth to a daughter. I came to Kharkov several times. She died early. The daughter emigrated to one of Scandinavian countries, where O later went.
And there was also a Chinese student in our group, Guo-Yu-Zhun, he simply gnawed at science, although it was difficult for him. He was very hardworking, quiet, calm, and an excellent student. We treated him with great respect.
I only remembered a very, very few here, but I could write a whole novel about each of our classmates.
Dispute and Mendel's Law
A funny thing happened during a small workshop on genetics at the Faculty of Biology of Moscow State University. When performing one of the tasks, it was necessary to demonstrate in practice the operation of Mendel's genetic laws. To do this, one pair of Drosophila flies (male and female) is placed in a test tube with a nutrient medium, covered with a cotton swab and exposed in a box at a certain temperature. After two weeks, it is necessary to separate the females and males from the hatched new generation of flies and count the different ones among them. morphological forms, statistically process and thus “derive” Mendel’s laws. To prevent flies from scattering throughout the audience, they were shaken into a Petri dish with denatured alcohol - technical ethyl alcohol, to which special substances were added to prevent its use.
Two students (one of them from Georgia) are sitting at a table and arguing (they are now famous scientists, so I will not name their names).
– Georgian: “I bet you five rubles that you can’t drink denatured alcohol with flies!” (This happened in the early 70s of the last century, and five rubles was quite a significant amount).
- Second: “Easily!” And he threw the cup with its contents into his mouth.
“Then the Georgian says: “I bet you 10 rubles that I can do the same!” “I agree to argue for five rubles, but not for ten. Why should I drink this crap for five rubles, and you – for ten!?”
“You understand, I’m used to drinking wine. If flies swam in wine, I would drink it without money, but my body does not accept denatured alcohol.”
We joked and talked, but we had to take a practical test, i.e. present the teacher with flies sorted according to certain characteristics, but there were none. I had to come up with an excuse, saying that the Petri dish was dropped and all its contents are on the floor of the laboratory. The teacher didn't believe it. I had to rear the flies again and “work out” the workshop.
Worm Eater
I’ll tell you another case of “devouring” innocent animals – earthworms. During summer practice after the first year, the student “earned money” by eating earthworms for money. The cost of the “deadly number” was one ruble. In those days, a ruble was quite a significant amount for students, so several people chipped in 10-20 kopecks and observed this “deadly” number. To make the ruble exchange rate clearer at that distant time, for example, “Leningradskoe” ice cream cost 22 kopecks, and “Eskimo” - only 11 kopecks.
The performer carefully washed the worm in water, then took it by one end, and, opening his mouth wide, sent it there (almost like they ate sprat in those days). Then he made the appropriate swallowing movement, and the worm went into the stomach.
Rat roast
Since we have already started talking about eating animals that are not quite common for culinary purposes, I will tell you another “deadly number” performed by my friend.
As you know, ancient sailors often had problems with food. Food ran out or spoiled, and rats were visible and invisible on the ship. The sailors rebelled, died of hunger, and did not eat the rats. Our friend conducted an experiment on himself; he cooked a laboratory white rat for lunch in the microwave. He skinned it, gutted it, and sent it to roast. The experimenter claimed that rat meat tasted like a cross between rabbit and chicken, only much more tender and tastier. He ate the white rats left after the experiment regularly, and even tried to treat his work colleagues.
He told another case when, on an expedition to Transbaikalia, they ate chipmunks. Their meat was also tender and tasty and tasted like pine nuts. More recently, he admitted that this is the best meat he has ever eaten.
On the other hand, this is not surprising. IN South-East Asia They eat everything that flies, crawls and jumps: snakes, monkeys, scorpions, dogs, grasshoppers. And rats are a delicacy there. No wonder great Confucius, who lived 2500 years ago, said “There are no inedible species of living beings, but everything is determined by the lack of proper culinary processing.”
Siamese kittens
I lived in a dormitory and we had two Siamese kittens in our room. They were so voracious that no amount of money was enough to feed them. No matter how much fish we bought, we ate it all, and very quickly.
My friend suggested feeding them rabbit carcasses that were left over after conducting biochemical experiments (he studied at the department of biochemistry). For the experiments, they mainly used the liver and some other entrails, and everything else was thrown away or sent to the vivarium for animal feed. He suggested feeding the kittens these rabbits.
The kittens ate the rabbit for its sweet soul. We didn’t have a refrigerator, so we stored food for them between the window frames (it was winter then). One day, the kittens got to our supplies (apparently, someone didn’t close the window very tightly) and while we were in class, they ate the whole rabbit. We realized that over time, when they grow up, they will completely ruin us, and then eat us like those rabbits.
One evening we were very hungry. The buffet was closed, so we decided to roast a laboratory rabbit. Before this, a biochemistry student was tortured for a long time regarding the quality of meat. The rabbit turned out to be very tasty. After this, the fate of the kittens was decided. Information was posted throughout the dormitory about the presence of cute kittens who were looking for new homes.
And for a long time we ate the rabbits that the student brought, supposedly for cute and cute kittens (which we no longer had at that time).
Roast frog legs
During a third-year workshop on animal physiology, students “torment” frogs. They are killed in a terrible way, by inserting a needle into the back of the head, then they take out the heart, insert a cannula into it and watch with interest how the heart beats (the blood in it either falls or rises). Then the poor heart is "tortured" electric shock, cause the heart or leg muscles to contract.
Our group had the last “pair”, so a lot of frogs accumulated throughout the day. A whole mountain of poor creatures lay on a baking sheet. I decided to taste them better than the French. I cut off the legs, removed the skin (by the way, it can be easily removed) and in the hostel I fried them with onions in butter. The paws turned out to be very tasty, the French are smart when it comes to food. My roommate came home from class and pounced on the prepared food. Then, when he found out what he had eaten, he, poor man, felt so bad that you couldn’t envy him.
Nutria instead of a rabbit
My wife and son at home are quite squeamish creatures and have always been skeptical about the meat and fish that I bought at the market. Once I went to the market and bought a rabbit carcass. Cooked it, ate it, liked it. Another time I went to the market with the task of buying another rabbit. There were no rabbits at the market, but they sold nutria carcasses (good, well-fed, fat). I bought it, but on the way home it dawned on me that my purchase might be rejected. Therefore, I had to pass her off as a rabbit. We cooked it, ate it, and really liked it. Once again I went to the market. This time I bought a rabbit. Cooked it, ate it, didn’t like it. They say that he bought an “old one”; last time he was young and well-fed, but this one is rather dry. I had to admit that last time I ate not rabbit, but nutria. Now, when I go to the market, I receive an order to buy nutria, not rabbit.
rooster crow
Fifth year, lecture on the history of biology. The teacher gives a tedious lecture, most of the students are bored, some play “tic-tac-toe”, others “ sea battle" Suddenly a fervent rooster crow was heard, everyone almost jumped out of their seats in surprise. The respected professor (by the way, he was already at a decent age), in order to cheer up the students, jumped on the table, crowed a rooster and, as if nothing had happened, continued to read his lecture. Everyone considered this professor an original, but those who knew him well argued that this “pearl,” like many other things, was planned in advance and noted in the lecture notes.
Math exam
When I was young, in my junior year of biology, the most terrifying subject was higher mathematics (probably the same now). The lectures were given by Associate Professor Kashkina (unfortunately, I no longer remember her name), and seminars Maria Vasilievna was the host (I don’t remember her last name). They look like very pretty women, but they are terrible sadists. To pass a test or exam in mathematics, they had to work hard. They usually took the exam in the Large Biological Auditorium, which housed the entire course. Everyone was given tickets and after a while, the teacher sat down with the student, and an indignant voice was heard throughout the entire audience: “Mar Vasilievna, look at the dumbass sitting in front of me, he can’t distinguish an integral from a differential.” There were such “stupid people” for half the course, no less.
However, this story is not about the exam. I met a girl from the Faculty of Mechanics and Mathematics. I liked her. I go into her room one day. She sits on the bed with her legs crossed, and on her knees is a thick notebook, all covered with integrals and differentials. She chatted flirtatiously with me, continuing to write something. I sat down next to him, looked at the notebook, and I felt creepy: “Do you really understand all this?!”
- So everything is simple here, one follows from the other.
– And for me all this is like Chinese characters.
– If you want, I’ll show you how to “click” the integrals.
She tried to explain to me for a long time basic rules mathematics, but nothing came into my head. Maybe because he didn’t come to her for that.
Finally, in order to somehow console my vanity and show that I was not a complete “stupid”, she began to complain that she had a very bad memory, cannot pass the exam on the history of the CPSU. He cannot remember a single date of a congress, a party conference, or a single resolution. This is how it happens!
How I started playing sports
This happened in fourth grade. We were playing football in the yard, and my school friend accidentally hit me in the heat of the game. We fought, and for real. He was a little stronger (or maybe quicker) and gave me a black eye. Then I promised, first of all to myself, that in exactly a year I would give him bruises under both eyes. And he started training. Every morning I did gymnastics, ran, doused myself with cold water. I did all this every day, despite the bad weather. I had a leather soccer ball. I stuffed it with rags and made a punching bag. I sewed cotton wool onto ordinary mittens, and the result was improvised boxing gloves. After school, I put them on and hit the ball tirelessly. Our neighbor Uncle Petya ( good man and a great turner) turned me a barbell and collapsible dumbbells, which I used in subsequent years. In those days, it was very difficult to buy a barbell, and even more so, collapsible dumbbells, and there was no money for it.
That's how I started playing sports. The resentment towards my friend quickly passed and we sometimes took turns hitting an improvised punching bag together. I remember one thing: I tried not to deviate from the plan, even when I didn’t want to do anything. When the “worm of doubt” persuaded him to retreat, he always tried to defeat him out of spite (to the point of fanaticism). We never missed training, even if there were such good reasons as bad weather. One day there was heavy rain, everything was wet, and according to the plan, it was necessary to run a cross-country race of 20 km. I ran this cross indoors, in one place, raising my knees high.
Is it good or bad? Probably not very good, because... You can overdo it and hurt yourself. However, now, when doing any work, I can force myself to do it, even if I don’t want to do it. So I owe a lot to the bruise I once received.
First sports prize
IN early years, like most of my peers, was actively involved in sports. In those days visiting sports sections, even prestigious ones, were free. Like all boys, I tried to practice boxing, wrestling, and weightlifting, but I didn’t stay in these sections for long. I don’t remember that at the first stage of classes, any of my peers were expelled from the sections as unpromising. They took everyone into the section. If you liked it, you signed up, went to classes, and if you got tired of it, you stopped going. Probably more high level there was a selection process when the question was about getting into the team and competing in more serious competitions.
One day, quite by accident, I ended up with friends at the Lenin Komsomol stadium in the suburbs of Baku, which was always full of people. It was a small, cozy stadium that was never empty. Everyone was doing something, some were running, others were jumping, others were doing shot put. Busy life was in full swing there all day long. There I started running.
After just a few lessons I was given spikes, old and worn, but they were real spikes. I was very proud of them. The track at the stadium was covered in smoke. Now athletes have no idea about the existence of such tracks. The stadium track was covered with crumbs, watered and rolled. However, it quickly broke and turned into dust. These are the paths we ran along. Therefore, shoes with long spikes were mandatory.
Some more time passed. We took part in cross-country competitions and ran 1000 meters. We were given completely new spikes and a uniform - shorts and a T-shirt with the Neftyanik emblem. I don’t remember what place we took (hardly a prize), but the coach praised us because tried very hard. This seemingly random hobby lasted for long years and determined my future life.
I was a shy boy, but on the track I was transformed, there I fought and won. Of course, I did not become an outstanding athlete, I ran at the level of a candidate for master, but this was still enough to change my life.
I understood what sport is immediately after the first lessons. One day I was returning home after training. The path passed through a park where street hooligans usually gathered. I knew many of them, but it didn’t mean anything, they could beat you if they didn’t like you. They already knew that I was a runner, so the first question was: “Did you get your form?” I nodded affirmatively. This question meant, did you make it to the team? If you wanted, you could buy sports uniforms in the store, but only those who made the team received them for free. In addition, given the general poverty, getting sports shorts and a T-shirt for free meant a lot.
Some time passed. I started going to competitions in other cities. The yard boys knew about this and were always interested in successes. One day, returning home after another training session, I came across a group of local hooligans who were keeping nearby yards at bay. If, God forbid, someone started courting a girl from someone else’s yard, they would definitely catch her and beat her severely. It was not allowed to look after other people's girls.
They stopped me and asked about my progress. I told him what competitions I had participated in, what cities I had visited, and had already received a rank. After that, the elder said, if someone in the village offends me, I can turn to him for help. So, thanks to sports, for the first time I received a big reward, I could look after all the girls in the village and walk with them wherever I wanted. Oddly enough, after this incident no one ever offended me, although this happened to other guys very often.
Childhood and the national question
Nowadays, a person is often identified with his nationality. During my childhood, everything was completely different. We lived in the suburbs of Baku. People of many nationalities lived in our yard: Russians, Ukrainians, Belarusians, Armenians, Tatars, Lezgins, Azerbaijanis and many others. It's the same at school. I look at school photos and see who is not there.
As a child, we were friends with someone, we fought with someone, we teased someone. However, even if I wanted to, I can’t remember that all this was connected with a person’s nationality. The same thing happened with adults. They walked, drank, were friends, but again I don’t remember any event (good or bad) being identified with nationality. Uncle Kurban (Azerbaijani), who played the mandolin well, often came to visit us. We were always glad to see him. At school my best friends there were Tatars, Armenians, Belarusians.
What language did we speak? Convenient language that everyone spoke. At home, my school friend, a Tatar, spoke his native language (mainly due to the fact that his grandmother came from the village and did not know Russian well), and on the street he spoke Russian. When we came to his house, we also used Tatar language. As children, we knew and could use many languages. Over time, unfortunately, everything was forgotten. However, language was a means of communication, not an identification of nationality.
When we grew up a little, we dated pretty girls, and girls with... good boys, but no one asked what nationality they were. The main thing is that the girl is slim and pretty. I remember one of my first crushes was a Tatar girl. When I started actively playing sports and went to competitions, I liked the Georgian woman. We even walked with her in the evenings. True, the idyll quickly ended; the guys from her team strictly warned me not to approach her.
And now the question never arises whether a person’s personal qualities are related to his nationality.
Blue dream of childhood
I lived in Azerbaijan, Baku. It was the most international city in the country. Everyone spoke Russian, even the Azerbaijanis. All signs were in two languages. This is only in villages local residents used their native language. However, for some reason I didn’t really want to live there. While playing sports, I was able to visit many cities in the country. I came to a new city, walked around it and dreamed whether I could live in it. Then, falling asleep, he dreamed of this or that city. Most of all I liked Krasnodar and Stavropol. I was crazy about them. The climate there is warm, there is a lot of sun and fruit. And here northern cities I liked them much less, mainly due to the lack of sun in winter time. Later, when I studied in Moscow, during the first years I did not have enough sun; already in January and February I literally fell ill due to its absence.
Once we arrived in Leningrad for the next competition. The city was so beautiful that it seemed like an open-air museum. We walked along Nevsky Prospect, Palace Square, and the thought gnawed in our heads: this is not a city, but a museum. Pushkin and Lermontov once walked along this pavement. On January 9, Dvortsovaya hosted “ bloody sunday”(this is how their brains were filled with ideology). I never dreamed of living in Leningrad. Is it possible to live in a museum? In addition, the lead clouds were depressing. And where did they come from! The sun was shining, suddenly, out of nowhere, clouds appeared and it started to rain.
In Baku at that time, morals and relationships between young people were archaic. We're used to them. Once we arrived in Leningrad, the girls themselves almost hung themselves. This surprised us greatly. And other. At that time it was fashionable to tint the cheeks red, which no one did in Baku. I was horrified, were all Leningrad girls really consumptive? The young people were naive, ridiculously so.
One day we were brought to a competition in Moscow. We were traveling by bus from Vnukovo airport, through the center to the VDNKh area. I sat near the window, and for some reason it seemed to me that I was going home, it was so cozy and pleasant. It seemed that I had seen high-rise buildings before, and they were well known (although this was my first time in Moscow). Then I had no idea that I could become a resident of the capital.
It seemed to me then that they lived in Moscow extraordinary people. When I was very young (3rd-4th grade), a boy from Moscow came to our yard. For some reason they called him “Moscow”. I don’t know if it was his last name or just because he came from Moscow. He seemed to us like an unusual boy, and we often went to look at him. Probably, childhood impressions are deeply embedded in the subconscious.
Even when I studied at Moscow State University, even then I had no thoughts of staying in Moscow. After graduating from university, I expected to go to work in Gelendzhik or Sevastopol. My choice was between these two cities. And again, it was an accident, I became a resident of Moscow, as they say now, “we’ve come in large numbers here.” However, this happened so long ago, and there were so many people who “came in large numbers” that, against their background, I can almost count myself among the indigenous residents of the capital.
University cross-country
I studied at Moscow State University in the 1970s. Every spring, at the end of April, a university-wide cross-country race was held. We ran 1000 m, 3 km, 5 km and 8 km. Most of those who wanted to run were the 1000 m. The races usually started early in the morning and ended late in the evening. Anyone could take part in the competition. The starter recruited 10 people, lined them up and sent them on their way. The judges at the finish recorded only the time of the leader and entered it into the protocol. And the commentator over the speakerphone reported the time of the winner of the next race. There were many people who wanted to take part in the cross-country race, so dense ranks stood one after another. The starter's shot sent one line after another on its way, and so on throughout the day.
At that time, I was one of the university leaders in the 800 m race (which is not far from the 1000 m). In order not to create competition, strong university runners chose their own distance, at which they won. 1000 m was my distance, which no one claimed.
In the morning, early, I went to the start, ran and, naturally, won. I had no competitors, and there was no point in trying, so the result was not very good. I knew that no one would beat me. The announcer called the name of the next winner of the race and compared his result with the time of the leader. So, throughout the day. I went to the hostel, swam, changed clothes, and returned to the stadium. A “support group,” as they say now, gathered around me. We joked and discussed the results of the next race. And the announcer tirelessly called my name.
Suddenly the leader's name changed. Someone ran the distance faster than me. As a result, a new leader emerged. It turns out that one of the guys who was supposed to run 5 km saw that my time was not very high and decided to change qualifications. What to do? I had to go back to the hostel, change into a tracksuit and run again (the rules allowed this). The leader became the same, but with a higher result. The people ran and ran, so " Certificate of honor“I received the winner only late in the evening.
Now the student is grinding (he is not the same as he was in our time), such mass cross-country events have not been held at the university for a long time.
Support Group
When we participated in competitions, there were always fans around us who supported us. It didn't matter if you won or not, they were always there. This was the so-called “support group”, to whom you can always give a sports suit, ointment, rubbing, or something else for storage. They gave us massages if necessary. They probably found some kind of satisfaction in this.
Many years later. Many of us have grown round bellies, some have become bald, some have acquired “respect” in the form excess weight. However, “combat merits” are never forgotten. If you manage to meet with a representative of the “support group”, he will definitely tell you all the details, all the nuances of your former glory, about which you no longer remember anything.
My friend always told me how he and I won the university relay race. He especially loved to reminisce during a banquet dedicated to the next defense of his dissertation. He told this relay race in colors, with all the details, as if it happened literally yesterday, and not four decades ago. Those present heard this story many times, but did not interrupt him. Probably everyone indulged in memories of the time when they too were “trotters”.
One day a man (fat and round) came to my work and began to claim that we knew each other well. I looked at him with wide eyes, in which there was not even a glimmer of memory of those times. I didn't remember anything. Then he began to tell me how I constantly treated him to scrambled eggs with tomatoes during my life in the dorm. This didn't work on me either. Then he began to tell how I ran, and in such detail that I had long forgotten. It turned out that it was one of the representatives of the “support group”.
Colleague
During my student years, I lived in the dormitory of the Main Building of Moscow State University. There were three of us in the room. It was late and we were about to go to bed. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Standing in front of us was an elderly (as it seemed to us then) and a complete stranger.
“Guys, let me spend the night with you,” his hesitant voice rang out.
“Who are you and why do you need to spend the night in our room and not somewhere else?” we were taken aback.
– I came on a business trip to Moscow, there were no rooms in the hotel, so I decided to ask my colleagues at Moscow State University for shelter. And I lived in this room 20 years ago. That’s why I’m here in front of you – we heard his naive story.
I had to make room. In the morning, when we woke up, our guest was no longer there. There was a note on the table: “Thank you, colleagues, for the shelter!”
Sadchikov Anatoly Pavlovich,
graduate Faculty of Biology Moscow State University, doctor biological sciences, professor at Moscow State University, vice-president of the Moscow Society of Natural Scientists
([email protected] http://www.moip.msu.ru)
The ending follows.
Student life is always full of vivid impressions, positive emotions and a sense of freedom. We decided to interview those who can only remember the best years of their lives. What still remains in memory after five years of study or more:
Daria Antropova, Ural State University them. Gorky, 29 years old.
The most memorable thing was life in the hostel. I also remember our frequent game of forfeits with the whole floor. The tasks were very different, for example, standing with your feet in a garbage can, spinning on the turntable at the entrance on the 1st floor, walking through the kitchens of the floors and the first thing you find cooking - you have to try it, so my neighbor ate a small piece of raw meat. Back then we considered ourselves just generators of ideas. This amused us a lot and the hungry existence away from our relatives no longer seemed so sad.
Ksenia Bogdanova, Ural Institute of Economics, St. Petersburg Academy of Management and Economics, 27 years old.
What would students be without the Club of the Cheerful and Resourceful? Almost the entire group participated in our team; we met after pairs, or in pairs led by our curator. We discussed competitions and what topics we would develop; many people came up with jokes themselves, took some from the Internet, and some came up during the rehearsal. And while we were rehearsing, the basic plan was changed a million times. The curator was also involved, she participated in a couple of miniatures. KVN itself went very quickly, I don’t even remember, we improvised a lot because we forgot the words out of excitement and said everything that came to mind. But it was fun and we won! The most interesting thing is that at that time we were freshmen, and KVN took place among all the courses at the academy.
Yulia Kormilitsyna, European-Asian Institute of Management and Entrepreneurship, 27 years old.
Co school years I dreamed of accepting participation in a beauty contest, and thanks to the university, the dream came true. I participated in Miss University, preparation took about a month. Daily rehearsals, memorization of monologues, songs, etc. And then the long-awaited day came, at first everything was perfect. And I had to twist my ankle and fall. Of course, I didn’t become Miss University, but I did receive the audience award. Apparently out of pity.
Yulia Kukushkina, Ural State the University of Economics, 27 years.
I have always participated in cultural life Institute: various competitions, KVN, holidays. And one day, for those who care like me, we decided to organize a holiday with a daily trip to a recreation center. She came with us most of teachers. It was the end of May, the weather was gorgeous, we swam and sunbathed. There was a disco at night. None of us had any idea that the historian plays chanson on the guitar, and the teacher of higher mathematics professionally dances rock and roll. It is still useful to spend time with teachers in an informal setting.
Yana Bushina, Ural State University. Gorky, 28 years old.
What I remember most about my thesis defense was: scientific adviser the day before he went on a spree and in the end we had to write the testimonial ourselves, and he didn’t show up at the defense itself. At that time, we had already managed to create various options for ourselves: that we would not be allowed to defend ourselves or would have to defend ourselves in a year, or maybe we would be expelled altogether, and we would go around with an incomplete higher education. As a result, everything worked out, and we successfully defended our works.
Alexander Osokin, Ekaterinburg College of Economics and Technology, 23 years old.
I remember being on duty in the wardrobe; at that moment I felt like a king. There is a crowd of people in front of you, and you decide who will get their clothes faster. It’s a pity that this place of honor is in great demand, and therefore in five years I was able to feel the power only once. So, by the way, I met a girl whom I had liked for a long time, but there was no reason to talk to her. Some people are connected by music, as in a song; in our case, we were connected by a wardrobe tag.
Olga Razlivinskikh, Ural State Pedagogical University, 29 years old.
I studied to become a speech therapist and, impressed by the lecture material, decided to give myself the letter “R” (at that time I said “L” instead). Oddly enough, I succeeded! At the next seminar, I tried my best to demonstrate my work and emphasized the “R” in every word that contains this letter. As a result, my answer took up almost the entire class - my classmates were grateful to me, and I was proud of myself for speaking correctly.
Tatyana Nikonova, Ural Financial and Legal Institute, 26 years old.
For me, my student years are primarily associated with my first love. He was the star of the institute, read rap at all concerts, dedicated songs to me and declared his love from the stage. We walked until the morning, and then immediately went to classes. It was a sleepless time, but I was truly happy!
Mikhail Osokin, Ural Polytechnic University, 28 years old.
One day, my classmates who lived in the dormitory invited my brother and me to visit. We were offered to enter through a window located on the second floor. The dorm had women's and men's floors. The second floor was common and had a laundry room and a kitchen. Because there was video surveillance in the dormitory, go up to the women's floor in in the usual form it was dangerous. They put robes on us and wrapped towels around our heads. In this form and with basins in our hands, we arrived at our final destination. This was my first and last experience of cross-dressing.
Alexander Bakulev, Ural State Pedagogical University, 26 years old.
I studied at pedagogical university, and every summer we were sent to practice in country camps. I came across a squad of second-graders, and it was impossible to calm them down. I had no experience or knowledge of communicating with children, and nothing came to my mind other than to start “catching butterflies.” That's what I called jumping up with arms raised. For an hour they caught imaginary butterflies. But then they immediately fell asleep, and I went to the disco with the senior squad.
Evgeniy Abramov, Ural State Agricultural Academy, 27 years old.
When preparing for the exam, I only had enough to study one ticket, namely the first one. Approaching the teacher, I pulled out a ticket and said that my ticket number was the first and, pretending to read from the ticket, I told the tasks on this ticket, which I knew by heart. After that, I put the ticket back into the pile of tickets. Naturally, the teacher was surprised by this act and asked to give him the ticket. Having broken all the tickets, I found the first one with difficulty and successfully defended it with excellent marks.
Cherepakhina Yulia, Ural Academy civil service, 29 years.
At our academy there was a competition for knowledge of the Russian language - “The Smartest”. Because I’ve always been good with literacy, so I decided to take part. I had no idea how little my knowledge was in this area. I gave most of the answers relying on intuition, but apparently I have problems with that too. Our team took last place, I was extremely offended and immediately ran to buy a spelling dictionary, which I have never opened.
Olga Yumaguzina, Ural State Law Academy, 28 years old.
Our group was sent to a collective farm. Early morning, rain, mud, cold and we are dropped off in the middle of a giant field of beets. I have never been as dirty and tortured as I was that time. But a common table, hatred of beets and hot tea brought our group together, and after that we became much friendlier.
No matter how endless learning may seem at the beginning, sooner or later everything comes to an end. And all that remains is nostalgia. While you have the opportunity, create your own story!
Photos from personal archive respondents.
I graduated from MGRI (RGGRU) in 1976 (group GIR-71, specialization in underground mining technology uranium deposits), then the institute was still located near Manezhnaya Square. When choosing a specialization between gold placer mining and uranium mining, I chose the latter due to the fact that the stipend for this specialty was increased by 15 or 20 rubles. A scholarship of 55-60 rubles for a student was a lot of money back then. A monthly travel ticket for a student in Moscow then cost, it seems, 2.50 rubles. A good lunch in the MGRI student canteen then cost an average of 1 ruble. I will add that, traditionally, mining universities (MGRI, MGI and SGI) fed their students well and cheaply. Unlike others, for example, once after a class on M. Bronnaya, I went into the canteen of the Moscow Law School. Not lunch, but prison gruel. I remember two of the teachers characteristic type. The first type of teacher is an assistant professor - a business-like one, but he is late and does not check on students. He does not cling to students, he tries to convey the knowledge of the course. So, the first type: Classes on the theory of explosives (for the conditions of mines and mines) in the laboratory on M. Bronnaya were conducted by an assistant professor (I forgot his last name, I heard he died, Godspeed, having defended his doctorate). And his pairings always began with his lateness. We wait 5-10-15 minutes. Suddenly the door opens, a lathered teacher jumps up frantically, says “sorry, just from the plane,” throws his briefcase and immediately begins feverishly writing the topic on the board and leading the class? even if 2-3 people came to the lesson. The second type is naive, absent-minded (as Doctor of Technical Sciences, Professor, Head of the Department of Underground Mining, Honored Worker of Science and Technology, Geliy Nikolaevich Popov), gave lectures on underground mining systems. I always began my lectures by checking the log of those present (this took up to 30 minutes). Each time, before the absent student, he raised the head of the group and asked about the reason for his absence from the lecture (he was sick, his mother came). He (mostly without knowing the reason) said (lyed) that Sidirova, who had been absent for a week, had, for example, fallen ill. G.N. He was very kind, it seemed that he loved all the students without showing it. The tests themselves had no consequences for the students from the professor. At MGRI I also remember teacher Borsch-Companello, who led the seminars on geodesy. He moved to MGRI from Mining Institute (MGI). It so happened that I personally took geodesy from him twice, in the mining and MGRI (I did not take the test). When he appeared with us, he immediately began by explaining his unusual surname, that after the revolution, his revolutionary Bolshevik father (according to the fashion of that time) added the surname of the glorious Companello to the unromantic “borscht”. B-Sh was smart. In his geodesy classes everything was clear and sensible. I remember, I’m playing “Felix”!, the calculus of theodolite traverses, he comes up on a piece of paper (with a large line-by-line array of numbers) and says, here and there is an error. Back then, as a student, it seemed like the god level of geodesy to me.
MGRI (1971-1976). USEFUL TRANSFER. Since I was stupid, I fell in love with the evidence of strength: everything there is clear and simple. You just need to study, do your homework, which is what I did. In the evenings, only diligent Vietnamese and I sat in the study room in the dormitory on Studencheskaya. and the examination in strength of materials was taken by the head of the department himself, a professor named Rebrik, so curly-haired that if the correspondents needed the look of a professor, they took pictures of him. There were two groups doing the rent, my GIR (uranium workers) and the drillers (I forgot the designation). Including a student driller with whom I lived in the same room in the dormitory on Studencheskaya. Later, he went on a spree, got hooked, took an academic degree, went north to work as a driller and never came out of his life’s peak. Once he even invited me to go with him to visit Vladimir Vysotsky, who was already popular by then, but I I wasn’t attracted to listening to strumming and singing. I took the ticket and, just to be sure, told him that when entering the exam he would take me a cheat sheet on one topic. He brought it to me - part of a new library book on strength of materials, which he tore in half. There is nothing to do, I put it on the table, waiting for the moment. Professor Rebrik began walking between the rows, came up to me and said: student T. pull out the cheat sheet. Of course, I didn’t pull it out, then he reached in, pulled it out... almost fainted from what he saw and shouted: “Barbarian... savage... new library book... there... for retake!” In general, I took the strength of strength exam with Professor Rebrik four times. I got so good at strength of materials that I knew all the basic formulas, tables and problems of the strength of strength course by memory, so I was already arguing with the professor. Gave me four. Love for strength of material is a difficult thing.
MGRI students on potatoes in Kashino. Ilyich's light bulb - is it a myth or a dark story? Epigraph: “On November 1, 1920, the ceremonial launch of a power plant for electricity supply took place in the village of Kashino. The light came on, and it was proposed to celebrate this event and invite Lenin to the celebration. The message to the Kremlin contained the words: “The board of the partnership hereby announces that on November 14th the opening of electric lighting will take place in the village of Kashino, for which we humbly ask you to come and share the joy that we feel at the sight of electric lighting in peasant huts, about which, under the rule of the tsars, the peasants didn't dare think. Your presence is highly desirable"
In 1972, we, second-year students of MGRI, helped harvest potatoes in the fields of the village of Kashino (Moscow region), where in the middle of a small village (one street) there was the notorious “Ilyich’s Light Bulb” power plant. In appearance, it was a doghouse by a dry stream, 1.5 meters high, with an area of 1 m2, inside of which there was a generator (dynamo machine, modern, turbine with a current generator) with a royal monogram, weighing 50-60 kg, on the shaft of which there was belt pulley A local old-timer told me that he built the “hydra” back in tsarist time A local craftsman who worked at an electrical equipment plant in Moscow, his small hydroelectric power station managed to illuminate houses and the street in the village of Kashino back in tsarist times. Apparently, the plant management gave or sold an expensive dynamo machine to its employee at a deep discount. In modern times, the founder of GOERLO was shot by the Bolsheviks, and the orphaned “hydra” was, as it were, nationalized. There is information on the Internet that under the Bolsheviks, the people of Kashino only restored the stolen wires. After Ilyich and Krupskaya arrived in the village of Kashino to see the “technical miracle of the liberated peasantry,” the doghouse became, as it were, the beginning of Lenin’s GOERLO plan. According to the story of an old-timer, they arrived at night, at 23:00, the local party cell greeted the leader warmly and hospitably, spent the night in the good house of an expelled (or shot) kulak, now there is a museum there. In the morning, we inspected a 1 kW micro-hydroelectric power station (SHPP), after a small one the leader saw a great one, then a meeting, a photo, after a good lunch, we left warmly with a warm farewell. At the rally, according to the Kashin residents, Lenin said for the first time famous phrase: “Communism is a plus Soviet authority plus electrification of the entire country.” A woman from the museum came to our student camp and offered to visit the museum. However, none of the students went. Since we got up at 6:00, we came home from potatoes at 6:00, tired. The Kashino potato farmers were our bosses, it rained often, and they wouldn’t let us leave the camp anywhere. I note that the apples in the orchards of the Kashino residents were notable. The only event was the wild celebration of my birthday by the whole camp, students of hydrogeology, geophysics, placer mining, uranium mining (my group) chipped in 3 rubles, in the village we bought several cases of “apple sparkling” (two pieces per brother), in champagne bottles , 82 kopecks each. thing - fizzy, tasty, sweet and intoxicating, my friend arrived from Moscow by bus, loaded with sausage, cheese and other delicious things, which her mother, my future mother-in-law, gave her by train through a conductor from Mineralnye Vody. We celebrated in some kind of cow barn, with improvised tables made from doors and board chairs. On one side, cows stood and stared at us; teachers were not invited. Soon the local guys from Kashin (there were 80% girls in the camp) sat with us, they brought a gramophone and dances. Since after all the trouble and the apple fizzy drink I passed out, the Kashin residents brought a car and took me and my girlfriend to rest. I remember how the guys from Kashin, hugging our girls in the back, rode with the song: “Our locomotive fly forward, there’s a stop in the commune, we have a rifle in our hands.” The next day, one of my comrades and I were sent to the dean’s office in Moscow, with a note for violating the camp regime, me for immoral behavior, as I mistakenly slept with a girlfriend on the bed of the political commissar of the detachment (a teacher of political economy, went to Moscow on Sunday), him for hooligan. This was my “Ilyich’s Light Bulb”
I graduated from MGRI (RGGRU) in 1976 (group GIR-71, technology of underground development of uranium deposits), then the institute was still located near Manezhnaya Square. When choosing a specialization between gold placer mining and uranium mining, I chose the latter due to the fact that the scholarship in the specialty was increased by 15 rubles. A scholarship of 60 rubles for a student was a lot of money back then. A monthly travel ticket for a student in Moscow then cost 50%, I think 2.50 rubles. A good lunch in the MGRI student canteen then cost an average of 1 ruble. (from 0.80 rubles to 1.20). I will add that, traditionally, mining universities (MGRI, MGI and SGI) fed their students well and cheaply. Unlike others, for example, once after a class on M. Bronnaya I went into the cafeteria of the Moscow Law School. Not lunch, but prison gruel. Of the teachers, I remember two characteristic types. The first type of teacher is businesslike, but is late. First type. Classes on the theory and practice of explosives were conducted by an associate professor (I forgot his last name, I heard he died, the kingdom of heaven, having defended his doctorate) in the laboratory on M. Bronnaya Street. And his pairings always began with his lateness. We wait 5-10-15 minutes. Suddenly the door opens, the teacher frantically jumps up, says “sorry, just from the plane,” throws his briefcase and immediately begins feverishly writing the topic of the class on the board and leading the class. I didn’t get to the bottom of the students, I didn’t check them. The second type is a naive professor (as Doctor of Technical Sciences, Professor, Head of the Department of Mining Engineering, Honored Worker of Science and Technology, Geliy Nikolaevich Popov), who gave lectures on underground mining systems. I always began my lectures by checking the logbook of those present (this took up to 30 minutes). Each time he reached an absent student, he raised up the group leader and made sure that the group leader knew about the reason for the student’s absence (he was sick, his mother arrived). He (mostly without knowing the reason) said (lyed) that Sidirova, who had been absent for a week, had, for example, fallen ill. G.N. He was very kind, it seemed that he loved all the students without showing it. The tests themselves had no consequences for the students from the professor. At MGRI I also remember teacher Borsch-Companello, who led the seminars on geodesy. He moved to MGRI from Mining Institute (MGI). It so happened that I personally took geodesy from him twice, in the mining and MGRI (I did not take the test). When he appeared with us, he immediately began by explaining his unusual surname, that after the revolution, his revolutionary dad (according to the fashion of that time) added the surname of the glorious Companello to the unromantic “borscht”. B-Sh was smart. on his theoretical studies in geodesy everything was clear and sensible. I remember Felix’s cool calculus of theodolite traverses, he comes up with a piece of paper with a large line-by-line array of numbers, and says, here and there is a mistake. Back then, as a student, it seemed like the god level of geodesy to me.
NOTES OF A FORMER MEDICAL STUDENT
I think most people remember their student years fondly. And I remember these years with pleasant feelings. This is completely natural. Then we were young, having fun, enjoying all sorts of trifles, doing reckless, stupid, and sometimes funny things. But we were in student life various events. And I want to talk about some of them that I remember - joyful and not so joyful. All the events described here were in reality.
I studied from 1981 to 1987 during the period of what was then called “developed socialism,” but even in 1987 no one could imagine that in a little more than 3 years there would be no USSR. And I want to tell you how I saw and what happened to a Soviet student at a medical institute.
Then in 1981, the most prestigious faculty was considered to be medical, then pediatric, and dental, sanitary-hygienic and pharmacological were valued lower. And accordingly, the competition for these faculties was different. Now it’s almost the other way around. So, I entered the pediatric faculty, and in the first years of the institute I was not very interested. We studied physics, a huge number of different branches of chemistry and, of course, party disciplines. During that period of the leading role of the Communist Party, all universities in the country taught these subjects. We studied the history of the CPSU, dialectical and historical materialism, political economy, scientific atheism. And in the 6th year of the institute, scientific communism, which we took state exam, along with special items.
A young man taught us the history of the CPSU. Surprisingly, I remember his last name, but I won’t write it. He is a native of the countryside Komsomol line, entered some institute, and upon completion of which he was sent to medical school teach the history of the CPSU, dialectical and historical materialism and similar subjects. And they even... gave him separate room in one of the medical dormitories of our university! He was very demanding and I would say he was fanatical. We took notes on some works of figures of Marxism-Leninism, decisions of plenums and party congresses, etc. He checked the notes in which we had to write important quotes from articles, books and regulations. He tested us, forced us to teach, teach... and many students were expelled from the medical institute without passing the exam on the history of the CPSU.
Then my classmates told me that after the collapse of the USSR in the early 90s, these subjects were cancelled. This teacher suffered greatly and committed suicide in his dorm room. Although there was a second version that he committed suicide because of unrequited love. No one can say for sure now.
In the first year of the institute, one day at a lecture on organic chemistry, the teacher wrote some formula with chalk on the blackboard and asked the audience: “What is this formula?” There were more than 200 people in the lecture hall, everyone became quiet and tense. There was a moment of silence. “What,” the teacher asked in bewilderment, “don’t you know?” How are you going to pass the exam? - the teacher continued. And really how? I got very excited, redrew this formula into my notebook and remembered the name. Now I will not undertake to draw this formula, I only remember that it contained a benzene ring. And right now I’m not sure of the exact name of this formula.
After finishing the second year of the institute, many went to work in construction teams in July and August and rested in September. And those who did not go to the construction brigade, in September, went to some collective or state farm to help local residents in the “battle for the harvest,” as they said then. All summer I worked as a physical teacher in a pioneer camp, so in September I had to go to the battle - the “battle for the harvest.”
Collective farmers sluggishly picked around the fields and failed to cope with the harvest. And they sent students, engineers and various drivers from car parks and other people to help them. At that time, completely business as usual It was, for example, to send engineers from the design institute to work on a vegetable base.
And so I went to one of the country’s collective farms. We were accommodated in a barracks - wooden bunks were laid in the former club. About 20 guys lived in one room, and girls lived in the second room for about 60 people. You can imagine this by remembering some movie about a colony, where in the barracks there are wooden bunks in two rows. Although at that time we treated it almost calmly. We were young, having fun, enjoying life... 2-3 teachers from the university were sent with the students to monitor order and provide guidance. One of these accompanying us was a major from the military department. And then one day this major called 4 guys, including me. And he said that we need to help local residents, the family of a Great Patriotic War veteran, collect potatoes. He freed us from working on the collective farm field, and we went with these local residents to collect their potatoes. As it turned out, they were not members of a family of WWII veterans, but bought us from that military teacher for a couple of bottles of moonshine. We worked for them for three days. These local residents specially planted several hectares of potatoes for sale. For moonshine they bought students who helped them clean, and for money or the same moonshine they bought drivers to transport the harvest.
Later I learned that the sale of soldiers by the military is a common thing. Then, in Soviet times, for example, soldiers were widely used in the construction of dachas for commanders and generals, and their sale for other work was less common. It blossomed in full bloom in the mid-90s. Then soldiers were even sold in Chechnya to brick factories and simply into slavery.
When I was studying, many male students worked part-time somewhere, mainly as watchmen, janitors, and nurses in hospitals. To get a job, you had to bring a certificate from the dean’s office of the university that you were studying there. Our dean’s office did not particularly provide such certificates; it was difficult to obtain. A classmate of mine who studied at a construction institute got hold of a stack of such certificates. Of course, he kindly gave me some of these certificates. And I worked part-time in different places using certificates from the construction institute. I worked as a physical teacher in a pioneer camp, as a loader in a textile factory, and washed a flight of stairs in a hotel. He earned money by removing snow from the roofs of houses. Once I worked in a bakery, stacking bread. Very hard work. Hot bread will fall out of the oven, crumble and crumble, and you have to put it on pallets, then take it on special carts for loading. And so on all night! My friend and I worked one night and didn’t work there anymore. The reader will be somewhat confused, how can this be, because he was a student at a medical institute. I hasten to calm you down. After the 3rd year I worked a little in the intensive care unit of an infectious diseases hospital, and later worked as an ambulance paramedic. However, most of all during my student period I worked as a carpenter in kindergarten. And when they now say that there is no place without guest workers, that no one will do these jobs, I smile.
When I was in my second year of medical school, Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev died. This happened on November 10, 1982. They didn’t report this right away, but all day long all 2-3 state television channels showed the ballet “Swan Lake” and didn’t show anything else. And Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s music from this ballet was heard on all radio stations….
After some time, the following joke appeared in the country:
« The mother says to the child:
There will be no “Good Night Kids” program today.
And why?
Because Brezhnev died
And who is Brezhnev: Khryusha or Stepashka?”
When the death of General Secretary L.I. Brezhnev was announced, I did not tear my hair out or cry hysterically, and I did not see anyone else doing this. However, there was a tense feeling. I was born in the year when Brezhnev became general secretary; in fact, I then lived my entire life when he led the country. He was constantly shown on TV and his photographs were published in newspapers. These are his works " Malaya Zemlya", "Renaissance" and "Virgin Land" I studied in high school. I studied his speeches at congresses and plenums at school and in my first year at the institute, and here... Knowing that the change of power could be different, there was an uneasy feeling. And it justified itself. Yuri Vladimirovich Andropov became the General Secretary of the CPSU, and therefore the leader of the country. As a medical student, I didn’t feel much pressure, but I want to write about some of the moments that I remember.
On September 1, 1983, vodka with a lower price (but also low quality) appeared on sale, which people immediately dubbed “Andropovka” or it was also called “a gift to a first-grader,” because it appeared on September 1. And at the same time Yu.V. Andropov introduced strict discipline in the workplace. There was a methodical check. Many cities were half empty during the day. People sat at work and were afraid to leave the office during working hours. And in the organizations themselves, the corridors were empty, everyone was sitting in their offices and working or pretending to work. Various harsh sanctions were introduced for being late to work.
Here it is appropriate to recall an anecdote from that period:
« Checking in the orchestra Bolshoi Theater. A KGB officer asks a musician who is beating a big drum:
- Why do you hit him so rarely?
- This is my party.
- We all have one party - the CPSU, and you must knock more often and louder.”
I remember in the summer of 1983, it was hot, and one student and I decided to drink beer. Back then, beer was mostly bought on tap, because it was much more expensive in bottles, and students didn’t have a lot of money. Beer was usually poured into 2-3 liter cans and the top of the can was closed with a plastic lid. We approached a stall selling this drink, and were very surprised to see two people in line. Previously, there were huge queues at such stalls. Near the sales tent they told us that there was a line there and pointed to the nearest bushes. Men in overalls were sitting in the bushes with cans so that they could not be seen. And when their turn came, they quickly ran out of the bushes and ran to the kiosk to buy beer. Thus, there were no people near the stall.
One afternoon I was at the cinema. They stopped the movie show, turned on the lights, and people in civilian clothes, who did not introduce themselves, but everyone knew that they were from the KGB, began checking documents and asking why you were in the cinema during working hours. And someone was taken somewhere...
At the same time, the country's shops continued to work mainly until 17-18 hours and many people did not have time to buy anything after work. I know the following case. It was my neighbor's birthday. During working hours she ran out to the store to buy groceries for festive table and... she was caught by people in civilian clothes. The neighbor was sentenced to 15 days of administrative arrest. There she had to celebrate her birthday.
One Armenian from Abkhazia studied in our course. On the winter vacation he was planning to fly to his family, but he was detained at the airport until his identity was clarified and why he was flying out of the airport during working hours, and maybe he was a speculator. Everything was clarified and he was released, but he didn’t make it on time for his flight. These are the events that happened at that time.
Led by Yu.V. Andropov from 1982-1984, then died, and was replaced by K.U. Chernenko from 1884 to 1985 and also died. And I graduated from the university already under M.S. Gorbachev during his “glasnost”, “perestroika”, anti-alcohol Decree and food stamps. This was before the collapse of the USSR.
In the 3rd year of the institute, special subjects began to appear in the educational plan: propaedeutics of internal diseases, propaedeutics of childhood diseases, etc., and it became more interesting for me to study. And in the 1st - 2nd year they very demandingly and strictly forced us to learn normal anatomy, then in other courses they taught topographic and pathological anatomy just as demandingly. And it is right! Back then there was no idea that you could give a bribe with money for a test or exam. What a strange time it was from the standpoint of what was happening in modern Russia.
There were different teachers at the institute. I especially liked it when practitioners taught and they told different clinical cases from their work. Very clear and long-lastingly memorable. I have pleasant memories of all the pediatric departments and the department of infectious diseases. I remember the head of the gynecology department. He is a former front-line soldier, a tank driver, but so much in love with the topic of gynecology... He could say at a lecture: “we have women...”. Students nicknamed it "ovary." Somehow cruel.
I remember an unusual incident that occurred during the exam in forensic medicine. This happened in the 5th year, and I was in the office at that moment. An excellent student from our group sat down to answer the teacher. The teacher leafed through the record book and asked her in surprise:
Do you only have A's?
Yes,” the student answered proudly.
The teacher began to question her with passion and gave her... a three!
April 26, 1986 at the fourth power unit Chernobyl nuclear power plant an accident occurred. And in July 1986, after finishing the 5th year, I, like other guys in our year, went to military training. They took place at the location of the military chemical defense unit. And all the students were very afraid that we might be sent to Chernobyl to assist in the liquidation of this accident. Already knowing the consequences of radiation and what arise from this disease, the feeling was alarming... but we were not sent there. And to this day, they can’t figure out these power units...
There was a story at the institute that after passing the exams, the students presented the teachers of the military department with the painting “Oak Alley”, which supposedly even hung on the department for some time, until one of the military teachers realized the catch. At that time, there was a widespread saying: “the more oak trees in the army, the stronger our defense.” So the picture had a hint. However, I have heard a similar story from students at other universities, and perhaps it is still being told today. And this is something from Russian-student folk tales.
In 1987 I graduated from medical school. By the way, after military training, I was so impressed that I wrote my first story. And in the 6th year I wrote for graduation, and then for many years I didn’t write anything. And he started writing stories again only in 2005. One of the stories: “A Very Fragile World,” with abbreviations, was published in the Medical Newspaper in 2006. And in 2008, I released my collection of short stories, “Everyday Kaleidoscope,” this collection included poems and two stories by my daughter, which I am very happy about.
Timoshilova Tamara MikhailovnaStudent years are the most wonderful time in the life of any person. When I mention student life, I always have only the warmest memories of the institute, teachers and classmates. My student years were from 1979 to 1984. Five years of study at a university is the most important stage the formation of personality and the formation of a person’s worldview, and it is very important who is next to you at this time.
For me the faculty foreign languages and the Department of English have become not only a place for receiving higher education, but also a place that predetermined further professional activity and ensured the improvement of already acquired knowledge and skills (protection PhD thesis). The department gave me an educational foundation that allowed me to look into the future with confidence. I am deeply grateful and grateful to our dean Vladimir Ivanovich Luev. For many years he has provided quality education, paid attention to personal and social development students, created trusting, creative and friendly atmosphere in teaching and student staff. I'm also grateful Head of the English Department Zhanetta Mikhailovna Lagodenko for her high professionalism and competence, patience and willingness to answer any questions from students.
I still remember the entrance exam in English, where I met an excellent teacher, Ekaterina Fedorovna Roslyakova. Out of excitement, I could not immediately answer her question, what is my name? school teacher in English. This situation was the beginning of our acquaintance. Later we met her in senior years, when she taught us classes on practical phonetics and gave lectures on methods of teaching a foreign language. Excellent knowledge of English, excellent phonetics, subtle English humor, clearly structured lectures and seminars, you could learn a lot from her.
The first year is very similar to school. Classes are held as in school: explanation of new material, oral questioning on a magazine, written dictations and tests. Independent work took place in the language laboratory, since not all students had personal tape recorders. And the laboratory assistant noted in your notebook the time you spent there, practicing phonetic exercises, sounds, intonation, and reading texts. The notebook with the laboratory assistant’s signature had to be shown to the teacher before the lesson. There are only 10-12 people in language groups, so you answer almost the whole pair, and the teacher has time to ask everyone. Hence the peculiarity of the first course - everyone learns.
Our first English teacher, Selikhova Nadezhda Pavlovna, seemed to know everything about English vowels, consonants, monophthongs, diphthongs, intonation. She was always ready to correct our sounds, intonation, and whenever we turned to her - a smile, a desire to explain and help. For us, Nadezhda Pavlovna was perfection. During our senior years, she gave us lectures and conducted seminars on the history of the English language. The subject is not easy, but thanks to the excellent presentation of the material, the incomprehensible became clear, the complex became simple. Nadezhda Pavlovna put her whole soul into her work.
We can talk about each teacher of the department for a very long time, because they are REAL PROFESSIONALS in their field. They loved and love their subject so much that you involuntarily became infected with this boundless love for language.
I would like to say thank you to: Maria Vasilievna Dvornik - for oral speech classes; Galina Ivanovna Kalinichenko - for knowledge of theoretical and practical grammar; Alla Nikolaevna Vernigorenko - for her ability to analyze texts and read between the lines; Lidia Stepanovna Markina - for her love of language and the ability to make you fall in love with it (classes in stylistics); Tamara Georgievna Valchuk - for knowledge theoretical foundations phonetics; Nikolai Vasilievich Tikhonovich - for home reading, newspaper and practical course written English; Valentin Aleksandrovich Doborovich - for excellent lectures on lexicology and regional studies; Galina Mikhailovna Gladkova - for her love of foreign English literature.
Student years are a whole layer of life - it is not only mountains of written notes on all disciplines and primary sources, but also participation in the faculty choir, whose classes you could not miss, even if you had neither hearing nor voice. Rehearsals concert programs to the “red days” of the calendar, great excitement and desire for our faculty to perform the best. It’s good that the teachers were always there, helping and even participating in these concerts themselves. Working the night shift at a canning factory. When we returned home or to the hostel in the morning we smelled of squash caviar and borscht.
Construction of a narrow gauge railway railway near Stary Oskol. Harvesting beets in the Borisov region: we lived in Krasivo, we were fed very tasty and satisfyingly, but because bad weather We hardly worked and were very surprised when, at the end of our work shift, the collective farm also paid us.
Instructional camp for the third year. Students from all faculties became pioneers for several days. And life flowed according to the camp daily routine: early rise, morning toilet, exercises (conducted by the sports department), marching to the canteen in formation with a chant, duty in the canteen, choice of an emblem and motto for the detachment, design of the detachment place, competitions, quizzes and other events that we had to spend time in children's camps during summer internship. The last night of our short camp shift around the fire on the river bank.
We also had unforgettable medical classes. They had the whole day allotted. We were taught to write prescriptions and give injections, and doctors in city hospitals taught short courses in therapy and surgery. We visited all the hospitals in the city and even the morgue during autopsies, where some became ill. At the end of this course, all students were given a military ID, which stated that we were reserve nurses.
And if it were possible to turn back time, I would again choose our institute named after M.S. Olminsky, Faculty of Foreign Languages, the same teaching staff and their group.
.Job title: Associate Professor of the Department of English Language and Teaching Methods
Faculty: Foreign languages
