I’ve spent half the day thinking: what photo should I attach to a “Happy City Day” post? Obviously, I have to write a post like that — I’m running for mayor of Moscow. So, what comes to mind when you hear the words “a photograph of Moscow”? My first thought was: the Kremlin, St. Basil’s Cathedral, the main building of Moscow State University. I googled it, and sure enough: the Kremlin, St. Basil’s Cathedral, Moscow State University. But that’s still a photograph of Moscow for a foreigner. What would it be for me? Like another 200,000 residents of the city, I happen to have one of the worst views in Moscow: the Moscow Oil Refinery. I’ve lived in the same place for 17 years, and when I think about it, there isn’t a single landmark I’ve seen more often than the fire and black smoke from the refinery stack in Kapotnya. I can see it from my window; it’s the main thing you can see from Maryinsky Park, the place where I’ve been walking with my family for these 17 years. I don’t even have a picture of that view. It feels silly to photograph it. Still, I found an image online of what it really looks like.
Probably the only photo that has both me and the refinery in it:
The photo was taken in Brateyevo, on the other side of the river, but you can see Kapotnya from here too. Our building is right behind my back. Like anyone who lives in this part of Moscow, I’m not exactly fond of the refinery, to put it mildly. And who would love a hellish, soot-belching flare three kilometers (about 1.9 miles) from their window? At least for the last couple of years the open flame hasn’t been visible. They keep lying, saying emissions never exceed the maximum permitted levels. Everyone around here knows that’s a lie. Sometimes the nighttime emissions are so bad that all of Maryino and Brateyevo rush to shut their windows. But as awful as it is to admit it — yes. You see where I’m going with this. For me, this is the classic image of Moscow: Maryinsky Park and the view of the oil refinery. Every single tree in Maryinsky Park — literally every one — used to be shorter than I was (the park is relatively new, especially its “New Maryino” section). Now the trees are huge, and I get to pester my kids with the classic old-timer routine: your mom and I remember when these apple trees were just planted. I watched them paving it with tiles ages ago and laughed at the men hauling materials home from the construction site in string bags. I remember the exact spot in the park where I was walking the dog when my wife called to say: you have a daughter. I’ve dragged rollerblades, scooters, strollers, sleds, and bicycles through this park.
http://instagram.com/p/JsB48qIC58/ I used to complain about the huge number of little shashlik stands, and a couple of times I ate shashlik there myself. I fed 200 loaves of bread to those ducks in the river, first with Dasha, then with Zakhar. I’ve spent a huge part of my life there, and in return I found my own image of Moscow. So, something like this:
Not nearly as grand as what Yandex or Google shows you for a search for “Moscow,” but it’s mine. Happy City Day, Muscovites. May each of us have our own Moscow, while all of us share one common city.
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