Janitor cleans Magnitogorsk yards for 20 years, lives in cramped quarters
20 years ago, dairy farmer Farya came from a Bashkir village to Magnitogorsk with her husband and adult children in search of happiness and housing. And she stayed. Over the years, the children started their own families, and Farya buried her husband. Two decades flew by; the woman couldn«t find other work without local registration and didn»t acquire her own housing. In Bashkortostan, her parents« house remains, where she once dreams of returning for good. And now, 58-year-old Farya lives in a tiny room and works without days off, but doesn»t lose heart. The janitor showed the MGORSK.RU correspondent her daily life, talked about her work, beloved Bashkortostan, and the personal tragedies that have befallen this small woman.
Farya works for one of the city«s management companies. We came to her on a snowy day and found her with a shovel in her hands. By five in the evening, the areas around two high-rises assigned to Faya were cleared down to the asphalt, and she invited us into her little room to warm up.
The janitor«s lifestyle is modest, but in the small room, a sofa, table, television, and refrigerator fit. There»s even a bathroom. True, it«s combined with the kitchen. In places of honor hang photos of relatives and nature pictures that neighbors give to Faya when they no longer need them. The simple landscapes remind the janitor of the place where she was born.
«As soon as I finished 8th grade, I was already milking cows»
I«m from Kuhanovo, where the larches are. That»s where my childhood passed. In recent years, there«s a fence there, you can»t approach. In childhood, I was probably about eight years old, and my little brother and I walked there while dad was mowing hay. Since childhood, I«ve been with horses and cows. I had eight heads of cattle and a little horse. Sometimes, I»d take the horse and ride into the forest, along the paths. And dad constantly scolded me: «Don»t joke.« I gave birth to my son when he was seven months old, riding a horse to the consultation in Askarovo. The doctors told me: »You«ll give birth in the saddle.» I gave birth and milked the cow, and my son sat in a 15-liter bucket next to me. In the state farm, I was a dairy farmer from the age of 14, as soon as I finished eight classes — I was already milking cows. Now my grandchildren ask what that is, they don«t drink milk.
«If you feel sorry for her, then give up your own apartment»
The state farm collapsed. Where to work? In 2006, I came from Bashkortostan to Magnitogorsk. They told us that here they give apartments to janitors. We came with such joy. My native sister lives here, and she heard that someone in their entrance worked as a janitor and got an apartment. She persuaded us to come.
It was fun to work. Earlier, we had director Khalezin, and he gathered janitors in the gym for competitions, gave prizes. He provided a bus, and we went mushroom picking. But we worked and worked and went to the «white house» [Magnitogorsk city hall] to ask for an apartment. That was long ago, I don«t remember when. A man worked with us, he said: »Let«s go.» My husband was still alive, and the three of us went. We talked calmly. And the mayor suddenly says to this person [Faya«s colleague]: »Well, if you feel sorry for her, then give up your own apartment. I didn«t call them to work.» That«s how he met us.
Our work is thankless. When I worked as a dairy farmer, it happened that a cow would swish its tail. But here, people are alive: they live and make a mess. I don«t complain, I»m not afraid of dirt, I«m just hurt. Well, why the hell do you throw garbage from the window? You»re a human being! I like to work, but I don«t have enough nerves. We have no days off, no holidays. If we don»t roll out the trash bins — there will be a complete mess. We need to rest, but if we rest, there will be a mess. But everyone says that Magnitogorsk is a clean city.
«And he hacked at this coffin with an axe»
There were seven brothers and sisters of us. Two remain: me and my sister in Magnitogorsk. There was the eldest sister in Kyiv, Fatima. She moved there in her youth. She has children, a daughter — a ballerina, she was shown on TV. We communicated through a website, talked. Then all this started [the special military operation], we lost touch. Can«t find her, we»ve searched so much. No page [on social networks].
The youngest brother returned in a zinc coffin from Chechnya, he was 18 years old. Four young soldiers brought him. Dad started hysterics. And with an axe, he hacked at this coffin. They [the soldiers] cried: «We»ll get in trouble, grandpa!« And in the coffin, there»s such a square little window, no light. What can a father see there? Those who served in Chechnya don«t forget me, they congratulate me instead of my mother. And it»s not even the military commissariat. Constant gifts: tea, something small. And the military commissariat, the administration in Bashkortostan, what? Nothing! And then, in «96, from the Askarovsky military commissariat, they came to our home with a machine gun, said that my brother ran away [from the army]. They shamed us greatly. And him [the brother] in pieces: ears, hands. Dad went after his little brother — died. Mom buried three more sons and died.
I have a son, a daughter, and grandchildren. My son loves me very much. He works in Magnitogorsk, a small salary, but I don«t let him go on shift work. He has a wife, his son is 7 months old. He already went on shift work in Karelia, earned an injury, they sent him home — not needed like that. After shift work, he got lost, barely found him. In Moscow, they caught him and took him into slavery. Sent him to a construction site. He was there for more than a month, I went bald. We looked on cameras how he took out a cigarette, went outside at the station when he was about to go home. And didn»t come back. They grabbed him, put him in a car, and said: «Show your passport.» They took his passport and phone, forced him to work. There were many men there. But volunteers help. And they helped us [return him from slavery].
«As long as I have strength, I»ll work some more«
They tell me: «Why are you like this?» Well, if everyone died — should I die too? Now there are no cowsheds in Bashkortostan. Where to work? Mostly, all who work here are villagers. City folks come, get their salary and — «Goodbye.» In March, I«ll go on pension. But, god willing, as long as I have strength, I»ll work some more. I«ve already gotten used to it here, there»s nothing to catch in the village.
