After school, I worked in the drawing office of one of Leningrads (as
it was then) planning institutes.Weymouth is collecting gently used,
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their Weymouth store. I fell passionately in love with someone and we
started a relationship, but then she announced that it had been just a
temporary aberration and that she needed to get married. In despair, I
signed up for a Komsomol work camp and out of sheer spite married the
first guy I met there. I asked my girlfriend to be my witness at my
wedding in Leningrad, and when we went back to my flat to celebrate the
two of us locked ourselves in the bathroom and snogged, sobbing our
hearts out and bawling What a pair of idiots we are! What have we done?,
while my new husband drunkenly yelled wheres my wife? through the
door.
There was no point in even thinking about living with him
as husband and wife C I left the poor man after three days. But it wasnt
just him I needed to get away from C it was everywhere he might find
me. I didnt even know what to say to him C it wasnt his fault, after
all. So I had to start again from scratch. I got a job as a press
operator in a paper mill; it was hard shift work, but the money was
good. And my girlfriend and I found a room together. Our landlady was
very fond of us C we were ideal tenants: didnt smoke, didnt drink. I was
officially waiting for my husband to finish his military service, and
my beautiful and clever girlfriend, whod been to university, was working
as an engineer. But then the landlady decided to do her a favour and
find her a husband among her various nephews. They started calling on
us, one after the other C where do people get so many relatives? My
girlfriend begged me to move, but wherever we went it was the same story
all over again. And we didnt have the money for a flat of our own, so I
decided that the only way out was for me to become a janitor. I couldnt
get work in a residential building C I didnt have the right kind of
residence permit C but I got a job at Gostinny Dvor, Leningrads main
department store. The job came with a room, eight and a half metres
square, so there we were, living in the city centre,We printers print
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I
had to work pretty hard, of course, but it was worth it. And now all my
friends would drop by, and we would drink wine and pass the guitar
around. My girlfriend, however, wasnt happy: Youd do better being an
artist. Well,Best home plasticcard at
discount prices. Id answer, I can paint but its not really my thing.
Whereas I love making music. Yes, shed say, but music is something you
have to do in public, and you cant afford to stick your neck out C
theyll immediately see what you are. My girlfriend was ready to love me
forever, but on the quiet; we had to tell friends she was my cousin. I
didnt like that at all, if only because men kept trying to come on to
us, which of course we werent interested in, and we spent our lives
pushing them away.
One day when I was sweeping up the store and
emptying litter bins, I came across a plastic wallet containing an ID
document and military service card belonging to a 23-year old man from
the Krasnodar Region in the south of Russia. Their owner was presumably
the victim of a pickpocket, but I didnt bother handing it in to the
police. In those days ID documents had very small photos, just stuck in,
and they could easily be replaced and the rim of the official stamp in
the corner inked in by hand. On the back there would be stamps from the
holders workplace, and here there was one from a state farm. It was easy
to alter a few digits of the ID number and a couple of letters in the
name, and low and behold - the document had a new lease of life.
Next,The term 'bondcleaningsydney control'
means the token that identifies a user is read from within a pocket or
handbag. with help from friends involved in the flourishing clothing
black market, who I allowed to use my janitors room as a fitting room,
within a day my girlfriend and I were officially married at the local
registry office. So now my girlfriend had a stamp in her ID papers and a
marriage certificate, and we were both ostensibly waiting for husbands
to return C mine from military service and hers from a work trip abroad.
So we could respectably look askance at any attempt on our honour.
That
summer my girlfriend, as a hardworking and promising young
professional, was awarded a free holiday trip to a health resort and
went away for a fortnight. She came back quiet and pensive; it turned
out she was pregnant. I, like an idiot, was convulsed by jealousy and
made a scene, but then calmed down and realised that it was our only
chance of having a child, so why not? What? she screamed. You dont
really mean you want to be the father of my child? Ive had enough of
this farce! She went and had an abortion, spent three days afterwards in
bed, staring at the wall, then left and didnt come back. I didnt go
looking for her, but my heart was empty and my life lost its meaning.
The she reappeared and said she had applied for a divorce. I didnt have
to do anything; after two applications, the third time they would do it
without any consent from me.
So that was my life until I was 27,
with me thinking I was an exception, a mistake. And then one day I
happened to meet Mukhabad on the metro. She came over to me herself and
started talking. At first I took her for a guy, and then I realised she
was like me. She introduced me to her friends, and I discovered that
there were lots of us out there; that I wasnt the only one; that women
like me were called lesbians or pinks, and men who loved men were called
blues. And that what we shared was called homosexuality. Mukhabads
friends were a motley bunch: cabbies, bus and tram drivers; factory and
shop workers; black market touts and dealers, but also university
lecturers, actors, artists, scientific workers, art critics and
communist party and trade union apparatchiks. It was a real mafia,We are
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China a state within a state. We also had links with other cities; wed
visit one another and have intercity affairs. This was a community
without bosses and subordinates, without people at the top or the
bottom. We were all bound together by our shameful secret, united in a
firm and secure family. We helped one another to find work, to study, to
solve the everyday problems of life. All you had to say was that
someone was one of us, and they would be helped in every possible way.
Lesbian mothers got help with their children in hospitals and health
centres, nurseries and schools. Those of our people who worked for local
councils or trade unions helped by organising trips for children to
resorts or Young Pioneer camps in the school holidays. We also had
people in the childrens section of police stations, and in local health
and education authorities.
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