How homeless people live in a garbage dump. A report on life in a landfill. Russia. What could go wrong

About the camp and landfill

Initially, I went north to the city of Mae Sot to go to a refugee camp from Myanmar. There are several of these throughout the kingdom, but Mae La is the largest: it is about thirty years old, the population at its peak reaches 55 thousand people, and the camp itself extends for seven kilometers. And then volunteers from the guest house where I was staying told me about a landfill nearby, where the same refugees from Myanmar live and work. That's how I ended up there.

Everything is very bad in Myanmar, so whenever possible the Burmese try to flee to Thailand. I have wondered many times why some of them go to the camp and others to the landfill, but I never found an answer. Some live in absolutely hellish conditions and receive mere pennies for their work, while the same people live in the camp absolutely comfortably and, as it seemed to me from the outside, are completely different, happy life. Many houses there have satellite dishes, residents have tablets and smartphones, children run around with phones. Not a bad life for refugees. But the landfill is a real hell. But in Myanmar people are kidnapped, there is a developed slave trade, plus constant ethno-religious conflicts and a high probability that you can easily be killed. It turns out that even such a monstrous life in a garbage dump is better for these refugees than life at home.

About life in the trash heap

The smell in the landfill is simply sickening, it cannot be expressed in words. All garbage is taken there: there and broken glass, and sharp metal, and mountains of used syringes. And children run around there, some in shoes, some barefoot.

The refugee village is also located right in the trash heap. The houses are absolutely typical of Asia: made of bamboo and “raised” half a meter above the ground. In essence, they are just huts in which there is nothing in general: people sleep on the floor (some have beds), sometimes some part of the room is fenced off from the kitchen. The kitchen itself is a nook one or two meters long, where there are basins and buckets of water. There they cook, wash dishes, and wash themselves.

About work, education and medicine

Trucks with garbage come here several times a day, and as soon as they dump it, people immediately appear. They cut the bags with special curved knives that look like sickles, sort through the garbage, fish out what they think is most valuable, and put it in their own bags. Having filled them, they take them to an intermediate “sorting point” and there they are engaged in a thorough analysis: plastic bottles- separately, metal - separately, glass - separately. Then another car arrives and takes it away. In order to somehow feed themselves, everyone must sort at least 35 bags of garbage a week.

The whole family is busy with work, including children. I saw elderly people, middle-aged people, and very young people, three or four years old, at the landfill. Not far from the landfill, right on its border, there is a school where children are taught by volunteers, but not everyone can afford to send their child to school, even though it is free. Because if a child studies, he will not work, which means the family will have less income. By the way, I didn’t notice either a hospital or a clinic. They can probably cope with minor illnesses on their own, but if something is more serious, they won’t even have the money to see a doctor. Most likely, due to the terrible unsanitary conditions, the mortality rate there is very high.

About another attitude

About hopelessness

It's really very difficult to be there. Not physically—you get used to the nauseating smell pretty quickly—but emotionally. The realization that this is how people live, this is how children live, is very pressing. Even when I left there, I was depressed for a long time: sad, sad, but what can you do? Nothing. There is enough of this everywhere, the landfill in Mae Sot is not the only place like this on earth, almost everyone lives like this.

About good and evil

These people really have no opportunity to either get a good job or find a job. Their only need is to save their lives, and only then to survive and get food. That's all. Most likely, they don’t even think about the existence of another world, although they definitely have some kind of meaningfulness and understanding of what is good and what is bad, what is right and what is wrong. For example, when I came to the landfill for the second time to give gifts to the children for New Year, they took me to their village. There it was necessary to walk first along the “road”, where a path had been cleared among the mountains of garbage, and then along the “off-road”, where there was nothing but garbage. And a child of about four years old ran forward, found sheets of foam plastic and began throwing them on top of the garbage, as if they were steps, so that I could climb them without stepping on the garbage. That is, at some intuitive level he understands: everything around him is wrong.

About the feeling of happiness

It didn't seem to me that these people were unhappy. There is generally a lot of poverty in Asia, but you look around and you don’t get the feeling that the locals are disappointed with life. On our streets everyone is gloomy and gloomy, but there they are friendly and smiling.

Prepared by: Yulia Isaeva

About 3,000 families live here. Some of the children who call this place home were even born here. We can see the lives of these people thanks to a series of photographs taken by the Frenchman Alexandre Sattler.

Oddly enough, his original goal was completely different, he visited Bantar Gebang to better expose the problem of waste in Indonesia, but what he saw there shook him to the core.

Every day the landfill increases by 9 thousand tons of garbage

Settler discovered that the landfill, which receives 9,000 tons of garbage daily, is inhabited by people who make money by reselling and recycling it. A photographer called the banter at the Bantar Gebang landfill a “world of sewage.”

« When I arrived at Bantar Gebang, I saw many people living there. What shocked me most was the fact that someone’s waste is food and income for someone. The scale of inequality is staggering. Scraps of fruits and vegetables are common food here«.

Living conditions at the landfill

Living conditions are terrible: stench, bacteria, rot... Families with children live in huts, without medical care or clean drinking water. Children play in the garbage with the same garbage.

Many kids run barefoot. Since the ground is littered with sharp objects, injuries are not uncommon. Surprisingly, the children seem happy and carefree. I suspect this is only because they simply don't know what their life could be like.

These guys showed me that even in the worst conditions you can find a lot of reasons for Have a good mood. I met children who were playing and having fun, they were happy to talk with me, and also introduced me to their parents, showed me toys and homes. They have never seen how other children live outside their dump, so they think life is wonderful. Life in the Bantar Gebang landfill is terrible.

Hopelessness is the reason for living in such conditions

The adults, however, were not so optimistic. It seems that they adapted to the situation out of hopelessness, but nevertheless did not accept it. However, I was touched by their friendliness and their welcoming attitude.

Former resident Reza Bonard is doing everything she can to improve living conditions here. She was one of the lucky ones - she had the opportunity to visit high school in the city. Growing up, Bonard left the landfill, but then returned to give her former fellow villagers an opportunity to get out of poverty. Together with Briton John Devlin, she created charitable organization BGBJ, which strives to educate children and improve the quality of life.

20 km from Jakarta is the largest South-East Asia Bantar Gebang landfill. More than 3 thousand families with children found a home among the waste of capital residents. They live by searching among the garbage for food, clothing, and items suitable for resale.

The smell of decaying waste is the first landmark on the path of anyone who dares to approach Bantar Gebang. Even before mountains of garbage appear on the horizon, the suffocating “aromas” of decaying organic matter reach the guests’ noses. Gradually, buzzing clouds of flies and mounds of waste appear on the horizon. Workers admit that when they first arrive here, they cannot eat - the nauseating smell haunts them for the first few weeks.

Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia with a population of more than 10 million people, produces thousands of tons of garbage every year. They are taking it to the Bantar Gebang landfill in Bekasi district. most waste from the capital. This place is not written about in guidebooks, residents of the capital avoid it and only daredevils, like the French photographer and author of the photo project Alexander Sattler, come here to see it in person and show it to the world reverse side overconsumption.

Thousands of beggars manage to find something among the waste that can still be sold. People coexist with stray cats, goats and cockroaches, wade through rotting vegetables, dirty clothes, broken furniture, loading baskets with glass bottles, tin cans and plastic.

The Bantar Gebang landfill appeared in rice fields in Bekasi district in 1989. Some of the locals don't know any other life. Some are unskilled workers who lived on the streets all their lives and ate out of garbage cans, others were farmers until the land disappeared under layers of waste.

“Once you’re here, you begin to understand how one person’s trash becomes another person’s means of survival,” says photographer Alexander Sattler. “Here everything old finds a new purpose: from old sofas and tables they build improvised “cafes” where workers can take a smoke break.”

Locals hiding from the rain and heat under a tarpaulin. Those who have settled here thoroughly have built huts from pieces of wood, scraps of plastic, cardboard and old carpets. Local residents eat what they find among the garbage, and the water for daily needs is poisoned by the sewage system, as it is extracted from the ground. Access to drinking water, Of course no.

"I can't stop comparing mine daily life with the lives of the men, women and children I photograph. The lives of the people who call Bantar Gebang home have been a lesson in the strength and resilience of the human spirit. These people proved to me that love and joy will exist even in the worst conditions,” continues Alexander.

Reza Bonard and her parents moved here when she was 10 months old. But, unlike many children, she was lucky enough to finish school, despite constant ridicule from her classmates. But she was unable to pay for further studies at the university, and buried her dream of becoming a doctor among the trash. However, when she returned to Bantar Gebang, she became involved in helping people: “Just because we are born among garbage does not mean that we are garbage,” she says.

Determined to help the children, Reza renamed the landfill the Bantar Gebang Kingdom and, with British friend John Devlin, founded an organization called BGBJ, Bantar Gebang Seeds. Reza believes that every child is a seed. If he is educated and supported, he will be able to get an education and find his way in life. Today the organization is developing, a hostel has been opened in a landfill and community Center, people are looking for a way out of poverty. Since 2014, volunteers and travelers have been helping Reza turn the entire area into “the best landfill in the world.” In 2016, an agreement was signed with the Finnish energy company Fortum to create a treatment plant in the capital. Experts expect that it will process up to 2,200 tons of waste per day.

They also opened a hostel for tourists and travelers who come and give English lessons in exchange for “excursions.” These events have become an excellent example of ecotourism and cultural exchange. They are especially popular with children.

Who lives in the former Tambov landfill, what do the homeless think about Putin, how did the police feed the homeless and what can you profit from in trash cans?

Is there life in a landfill?

The first days of September. I'm at a former landfill. Here, five hundred steps from what is commonly called civilization, people live. They live as best they can, huddling in wooden houses made of boards, plywood, cardboard and other improvised means that they managed to find among the garbage.

Stumbling, I walk through a clearing overgrown with wild grass and burrs. As I approach the settlement of the Tambov homeless, I am greeted with hoarse barks by a pack of stray dogs. Scolding from the heart uninvited guest, the four-legged animals instantly calm down and begin to gnaw at someone’s bones. On the horizon rises the waistless, short and stocky figure of the gypsy Kolya. He is not an ordinary resident of this camp, but a local baron. That's what the camp residents call him, rather jokingly. I was here with colleagues three years ago, so Nikolai immediately recognizes me and accepts me as if he were his own. Seeing the treasured bottle in my hands, the baron becomes even more welcoming.

Nearby, in the shade of trees pierced by the rays of the autumn sun, his wife Etella is basking. A dog and a cat hover around her like a top. She sorts through some scraps and listens distractedly to the battery-powered radio. The receiver is tuned to the Echo of Moscow wave, the presenter is broadcasting about events in Ukraine. The other two residents of the camp are missing - the gypsy Lyubov and her Tatar husband Radik have disappeared somewhere. Most likely, they went to collect alms or have a drink somewhere. The fifth inhabitant, also named Radik, recently died.

“Aleksanych, please come in. We remember you. From the newspaper, right? We live normally, thank God. Look, this is my house, and here is my dog. Be careful, don’t step on the carnation,” Nikolai gives me a short tour of his simple abode. The wooden shed is two by two meters. Three walls. On one of them hangs an old carpet that someone threw in the trash. In the corner there is a rusty potbelly stove with a chimney. Half of the hut is occupied by a narrow bed, on which he and his wife sleep. On the table rest leftover food found in containers, DVDs, pots, a bunch of herbs and two onions. There are cigarette butts and other rubbish on the floor, a clear sign that it is time to organize a Lenin subbotnik.

“My house, however, was recently broken into, all my things, pots were stolen. Let's go, I'll show you where Lyubanika and Radik live. This is where you filmed us three years ago. Bottle, vodka, snack, remember? This is how I live, Sanya,” Kolya shows me two more huts, hidden from prying eyes in the bushes. There are heaps of garbage all around, cobwebs and washed clothes hanging down. The pungent smell of slop makes my eyes itch.

According to the gypsy, he and his wife have been living at the Tambov landfill for sixteen years now. Before that, he was somewhere in the forest near St. Petersburg, came here to work, he was deceived, he moved to these parts, and stayed forever. About seven years ago, when the landfill was operational, the homeless did not know grief. “It was such a big dump. My God! And copper, and brass, and tin. They lived like ships at sea. And then they closed everything,” the baron sighs and looks dreamily to the side.

Now that the cornucopia has been exhausted, they have to dig for container sites and on weekends go to the porch. “We, Sanya, collect pieces of iron. We are looking for food in the bins. We'll find bread and sausages. We only don’t take rotten or smelly meat. And in the store they give us food. Mostly expired. We eat what God has given. But they don’t hire me - there are no documents, and I don’t know how to write or read. I’ve been on the street all my life, I’m a nomadic gypsy,” Kolya says, even with some pride.

Some donations also come from compassionate Tambov residents. I recently brought food Orthodox priest. Guards from nearby bases pour water for them. Some Kamaz drivers help out with firewood. Even the Tambov police do not pass by.
“We have good police, they came to us in the winter. It was on New Year's Day, remember? We say: “Comrade boss, we are sitting without a crumb of bread.” And they soon came and brought us bread and two packs of cigarettes,” recalls Etella. One of her feet is bandaged - she stepped on a nail. A woman shouts something in Gypsy, driving the dog away from pieces of expired sausage. The dog takes off running and looks like a hunted wolf from behind a bush.

As a homeless person: adventures in garbage dumps

A few days later I come again to Etella and Kolya. I want to live their lives a little, try to feel what it's like to dig through trash cans and collect non-ferrous metal. I'm in time for the end of breakfast. The homeless people finish eating something that looks like porridge and offer me tea.

Kolya puts coils of copper wire and pieces of aluminum into a bag. His wife takes a five-liter water container with her, and we leave the camp. The dogs don’t touch me anymore - they probably realized that I’m a guest and not a stranger.

Three figures are moving towards us. I recognize Lyubov Ludvigovna in the elderly gypsy woman with a backpack. Her Tatar husband Radik is doomedly rolling his cart through the dust of the road. The third, a shabby Russian tramp of about fifty, unknown to me, silently nods and extends his hand. After a short smoke break and a conversation, which was conducted either in Russian or in Gypsy, we dispersed.

Already in the city, two elderly women and a tipsy man greet us. Apparently, many people here know my gypsies. Our strange company continually attracts the attention of the townspeople. Passers-by try to get around us, especially when Kolya and Etella start arguing with each other in their own language throughout the street.

While the homeless man goes to the scrap collection point, we rush to get water from the water pump. 84 rubles - the gypsy returned and showed a handful of change. That’s how much he managed to earn for his finds.

We leave a heavy bottle of water in the ditch and go to butcher shop. On the way we talk about this and that. First, having seen the election billboard, we raise political topics. True, they don’t really touch Kolya. Although he mentions the name of the current president almost immediately. “Putin, right? He seems normal. Although I didn't see him. True, grandmothers who know him often complain about him. They say he’s cutting their pensions and raising prices in stores.”
To hell with politics when there are sublime matters. Nikolai remembers with a smile how he got married 18 years ago. “My dad and mom didn’t want to marry her to me. So I stole it. And she didn't mind. I was 15 then. But with us, the gypsies, it’s okay, we get married early. And she is from 1976, older. Etella, remember how I stole you from your parents?”
“I remember,” Etella goes to the pavilion called “Meat,” and Kolya and I squat by the garage and continue our intimate conversations.

His wife returns with a package. It contains lard skins for dogs, pate and half of black bread. In gratitude, Tambov homeless people sometimes sweep the area around the store.

We approach the garbage site with Etella. First, we inspect the area around - suddenly a gift of fate - for example, old TV(there is so much copper wire there that, once handed over, you can live tolerably for three days). Then we start digging into the containers themselves. We tear open the garbage bags and plunge our hands into the sticky and smelly mass. Nothing interesting - potato peelings, used toilet paper and personal hygiene products, watermelon rinds, fish tails. Even though I'm a newbie, I'm not having any luck. But Etella finds bones - today the dogs will have a feast. And I - beer bottles, but the collection point is far away, and they will give you three kopecks for them, so the game is not worth the candle.

A car stops at the site. His owner throws out several garbage bags and gives Ethella some change.

At this time, a truck loaded with bread drives up to the store, a few steps away. Nikolai goes to the movers and returns with a fresh loaf of bread in his hands. Not bad.

Etella crosses the road - there is another trash can. Kolya and I are following her. “Look, you see, a gypsy, he managed to be here before us and got hold of something. He lives in the house, he lives well, but he still wanders around the garbage dumps,” Nikolai points with his hand at the figure of his competitor, the “budulai” with a cart.

We continue our search. Bullocks, tea bags, rotten fruit, rags, glass wool. Things are not going my way. Etella also has nothing worthwhile. By the way, Kolya is not participating in the search; this work is not noble for him. He specializes more in metal.

My friends are tired. The search ends for now. They will resume later in the evening, when fresh garbage appears in the garbage dumps. Etella and Kolya return home to the former landfill.

The finds are impressive: almost a whole smartphone, expensive dishes... Plus, there was a resident of the village of Barvikha who completely furnished her modest house with luxury items from these same spontaneous landfills.

Finding a “prestigious” garbage dump without outside help turned out to be not so easy. And getting into it is even more difficult. All cottage villages surrounded by a five-meter fence, there is powerful security at the entrances and exits.

So it was impossible to do without an experienced guide from the local inhabitants. I had to look for this one. This also turned out to be difficult - no one wants to give out fishing spots...

The village of Podushkino is a picturesque corner of the Moscow region. A little away from the prestigious Barvikha, past the government reception house, along a winding country road with perfect asphalt - and I’m there. The village itself is very large; it is, as it were, divided by a road (Podushkinskoe Highway) into two parts.

On one side of the highway there are about 400 houses. And here I have another 100 behind the barrier,” the guard Vladimir explains to me. - And the garbage containers?.. No, I didn’t see them. I myself am suffering, I don’t know where to throw my waste.

But I know that there, behind the barrier and several rows of luxurious mansions, in the forest there is a real spontaneous dump. It's surprising that in locality There is not a single garbage site for 500 houses, and everyone seems to be happy with this. That is, everything is available in this elite area - multimillion-dollar luxury mansions, marble fences, and statues. But there is no such luxury as a regular trash container.

We transport garbage either to Odintsovo or to neighboring Barvikha,” one of the residents of Podushkin told me. - But we do it without authorization, in other words, illegally. Because residents of high-rise buildings (ordinary panel buildings) pay for those trash cans. - "MK"). But, unfortunately, we have no choice but to break the law. The situation with the lack of containers is the same in Zhukovka, Shulgin, and Usovo. But, unfortunately, there are few people who take out garbage into containers in high-rise buildings.

And although ministers, artists, bankers and other “elite” live here, on Rublyovka, they throw out their waste, like mere mortals, into the nearest forest.

Here in one of these fishing lines in Podushkino, on a tip knowledgeable people I went in search of something interesting. The beginning of spring is the most productive time in this sense. Because then everything will be overgrown with nettles and it will be difficult to walk through the local ravines, much less find anything.

A MK correspondent found a lot of valuables in Rublevka dumpsters

The garbage dump begins immediately behind the last fence on the forest side. There is also a sign there that says “GASTER DUMPING IS PROHIBITED!” But no one pays attention to her. By the way, a certain man with an empty bucket was walking straight towards me. Obviously, he wasn’t out looking for mushrooms...

It is immediately obvious that the users of these unauthorized landfills are people with good income: packages from an elite chain supermarket are lying around. Bottles of expensive French wines and champagne are scattered around. Packaging of high-quality cheeses can be seen. But garbage is garbage, even if it comes from expensive food. It does not decorate the picturesque forest road in any way.

To find something worthwhile, you need to go deeper into the forest. Using a specially prepared stick - the handle of a shovel - I clear away the rubble. ABOUT! A completely intact plate, albeit dirty from lying under the snow and rain. At the bottom of the vessel is the Villeroy & Boch brand label. On average, this costs 1500 per piece.

Elite tableware is not uncommon in trash bins near wealthy homes.

Further in the forest I find a plasma TV. The screen is broken. Of course, it is now difficult to understand what condition this household appliance was in when it ended up in this ravine. Most likely, not working. But I personally handed over for recycling last year a 10-year-old washing machine. Not only did they take her out, but they also paid me 1,000 rubles. Go ahead.

Absolutely suitable utensils - tea cups, forks and spoons - could be seen in abundance among the garbage bags. We won’t even count them as finds. Although if these dishes were sent to a flea market, of which there are now many in the capital, then it would be possible to save a thousand or two.

I came across photo frames, books and magazines (all about the glamorous life, by the way). Regularly among the scraps there were also clothes - once expensive jackets (you can now judge this only by the quality of the buttons), I saw one well-made sheepskin coat. Moreover, it was clearly not worn to the point of holes, but had become unusable precisely because of lying under the snow and rain. Shoes. A lot of shoes - shoes, boots, rubber slippers of a famous American brand, completely untorn sneakers.

At the very end of the walk, which lasted about an hour, I found perhaps the most valuable thing - an iPhone of the fifth model. It was clear that it had just fallen out of the bag - the cracked screen had not yet become covered with dirt. Here, almost in its original form, it perched forlornly not far from a bag of garbage.

Later, I found out at the nearest radio market that the phone can be easily repaired - a broken part can be replaced for about 5,000 rubles. But even if you don’t change anything, you can easily sell such a mobile phone on the Internet for 4,000 rubles.

In total, my catch in rubles is about 7,000 rubles (if I had not been too lazy to take out and recycle the broken TV and wash all the forks and spoons). And this is in less than an hour.

On the way back, leaving the forest, I met a woman. She looked at me photographing the trash with disbelief. She explained that I was from the newspaper.

“Oh, I see,” she sighed with relief. - Write, write. I jog every day in the morning. And my heart just bleeds. After all, it’s not strangers who crap - we have access with passes. Do you know who lives here, in these houses? All former ministers.

- And you, Elena, where do you take out the garbage? As far as I understand, you have problems with this.

We pay separately for each car arrival. This is about 1000 rubles at a time. They have prices - 160 rubles for a 120-liter bag. When there are 6-7 bags, then we call. About once every 1.5–2 weeks. But this, of course, is terribly inconvenient. Imagine what happens to garbage in a week! True, we have a worker who looks after the house, a housewife - she organized a silo in the backyard, where she dumps exactly food waste. Burns paper. So, of course, there is much less garbage.

- Did you find anything valuable here, in this trash heap?

Oh, somehow I don’t look closely at garbage...

amateur neighbor healthy image In life, Polina Kozlova does not disdain garbage dumps.

“I don’t come here to find anything,” the woman admits. “It’s just that my husband and I are one of the few who are really concerned about the issue of garbage in our village.” Starting in the spring, we regularly organize cleanup days, which are joined by some neighbors, but not all. We hire a huge garbage truck, hire workers and clear the forest. It is in the process of this cleaning - I myself wield a rake at these cleanup days - that all sorts of valuables are found.

As it turned out, Polina is a fairly well-known person in the Barvikha rural settlement, although she has been living here relatively recently.

I myself come from Smolensk. I moved to these places about 10 years ago, when I was invited to work in a ministry near Moscow.

As official housing, Polina and her family were given a dilapidated old wooden house in Podushkino, which all her predecessors refused. She still lives in it, having bought the house. The house is very modest by local standards, but cozy.

Resident of the village of Podushkino Polina Kozlova and her finds - ancient tablet maps of the surrounding area of ​​Barvikha

Although, of course, I’m a millionaire,” Polina jokes. - We have 25 acres, and the prices for land here are wow. True, when I saw my new home for the first time, I was very upset, as it was a sad sight - a hundred-year-old log house littered with garbage. But when we began to clear away the rubble, we discovered a decent, albeit old, house. There was even some furniture in it - an antique sideboard, which we washed and enjoy using.

Having tidied up the house, the active woman set about dismantling the spontaneous trash in the neighboring ravine. And it turned out that...

“...The furnishings in my house came to me entirely from the ruble dumpsters,” Polina laughs. - Over the years, I haven’t found anything there. And you would find it if you dug hard enough. This is not land, but all layered cake from the trash.

Both the wardrobe and the baskets are all Polina’s finds in the surrounding landfills

I asked Polina to comment on my findings today.

ABOUT! “I often find such plates,” Polina rejoices like the first mushroom. - I have a whole set of dishes at home. During the next cleanup, a heavy vehicle was found right next to my house. wooden box. My mother and I opened it, and there was a brand new set. Honestly, I didn’t even know then that this was some kind of expensive company. Then only my husband looked on the Internet. I have several versions of how such luxury ended up in a landfill. First: when moving, someone threw it out in the confusion. Second: divorce, just at that time some of our neighbors were loudly and scandalously getting divorced. Maybe one of the spouses threw out the service in revenge, let’s say it was wedding gift. Well, perhaps the servants tried to steal a valuable item from the owners’ house, they hid the service in the bushes, but they could not take it away.

Polina's imagination is fine.

And as for household appliances, then you are very lucky,” the woman continues. - Here in Barvikha we have guest workers, they regularly comb through local garbage dumps for such valuables. Last year, one of them boasted to me about a perfectly serviceable refrigerator. They also collected all the furniture for their home here. Carpets, paintings. But they no longer collect for themselves, but for sale.

The woman invited me to her home to show me her findings. First of all, Polina boasted about that same set. Snow-white plates are served in the family only on holidays.

“I love very old things,” the woman admits. - They have soul, with history. Look, there's an icon. Also from our ravine. She was lying in a heap of garbage, dirty, but even her glass was not broken. I made inquiries: the icon does not have any historical or artistic value. And about spiritual value former owners, apparently, they didn’t think about it.

Small, but completely intact figurines. Some baskets, cute vases, absolutely clean and beautiful carpets, bookcases, antique oak doors, samovars, a bookcase from the middle of the last century, a rare rotary telephone. A huge coat of arms of Russia embroidered with gold thread.

Look how expensive the cloth is. It hasn't deteriorated at all long stay on the street.

- Were there any portraits of the president?

Not yet. But after the disbandment of our forestry (the neighboring house), I found old tablet maps in the trash. Look, they still indicate a forest, which is no longer left - everything has been built up. Cards are historical document. Now they decorate the wall in the nursery in beautiful frames.

But it’s not even about how many valuables I found over these 10 years. But the fact is that the situation does not change at all. In Barvikha we did not have authorized garbage removal, and we still don’t have it. I raise the garbage issue at every village meeting, it’s all useless. They tell me: go with your trash, we have other great things to do here. True, which ones are unclear. The exact same forest on the other side is littered with garbage in the same way. Behind every village on Rublyovka there is such a latrine ravine.

What can I say, culture, upbringing and love for the land on which you live cannot be bought for any money. The rich residents of Rublyovka clearly demonstrate this with their garbage ravines.