AT THE WORLD'S END

Deer-breeders receive a salary of only five hundred Roubles a month. Not very lucrative for a young person, is it? Makes more sense to be unemployed and hang out in the village

AT THE WORLD'S END

The more insistently the word of mouth is associating today's plight with the ex-governor and his men, the more often the local newspaper is extolling his indomitable tender loving care for Chukotka residents. Whereas if the subject is economic decline or yet another accident, the text will inevitably feature something like «the wrath of gods». In other words, if something good happens in Chukotka, it is thanks to governor's hard work, otherwise one should blame the vicious fate. A very unlucky place, this Chukotka is! It is, however, more often compared now to a block of ice swept away from the mainland and tossed around by the oceanic waves. The brief history of Chukotka independence started in 1992, when the autonomous okrug (district) seceded from the Magadan Oblast. It is further characterised by doubled numbers of bureaucracy (in strictly reverse proportion to the falling numbers of residents) and a collapse of the economy. Deer-breeding, a traditional source of income for the indigenous majority, went plummeting. Huge herds started dying off, sometimes even carried out into the ocean on ice-floes. The population of domestic deer more than four times. In Ostrovnoye village, a workman from the local school, formerly a livestock expert on the deer-breeding farm, shares with us his despondency: «Deer-breeders receive a salary of only five hundred Roubles a month. Not very lucrative for a young person, is it? Makes more sense to be unemployed and hang out in the village». Why can not they make more? One's got to earn it. But how can you earn anything if the farms are in ruins? Vehicles, fuel, veterinary products and feeds cost exorbitant prices, and where's the money to buy it all?

But the authorities of the okrug do not believe in trying to understand whose fault it all is: according to them, profitable agriculture in Chukotka is impossible by definition. It is hard to heed the words of Chukchi herdsmen, left to their own devices in tundra, that deer-breeding in Scandinavia has long since been very profitable, and the breeders themselves — are all wealthy people. Unlike here, where the most important task is survival.

Aircraft used to fly into Omolon village monthly, and now you have to wait for two months. So if the good fate brings an unexpected plane, the village is celebrating. An old deer-breeder, when seeing off reps from the Pole of Hope Foundation, who had arrived in Omolon together with Roman Abramovich, was reiterating: «Thank you, darlings, thank you so much!» «What for, grandpa?» «That you have not forgotten us. You have flown in — and like the sun looked out!»

Last autumn the gods got irate again. After the first frost a diesel power station packed up, and the village was left without electricity. The other station is barely capable of lighting the school and maintaining boilers. Guess what is going to happen to the village in case of another breakage? One cannot say that local authorities have given in to the elements: they had been planning to bring the new diesel generators to here for quite some time, but somehow it never proved handy. Now there were no vehicles, now — the money was short. A completely incredible story was offered by the local radio: allegedly, a local boss set off to Magadan to buy a station there, but then either seven or seventy million were stolen from him en route. He was not fired, though, after that, just demoted. Finally, the Pole of Hope Foundation got involved. A new station was brought in, but turned out there was no cement — to mount it on the platform. A representative from the district administration promised to find cement, but people just sneer at his words. He explodes: «Why is it that you only demand things? Lots of ne'er-do-wells are hanging around in the village, and there is never any help from you!»

Nowadays, there are twenty deer-eaters per each deer-breeder in Omolon. Children from the boarding school are sent to their parents, who rear deer in tundra. The idea is for them learn how to survive there, just like their ancestors did! Only re-establishment of connection with the roots seems somewhat belated. Ever since the state started putting Chukchi children in boarding schools, traditional northern families were practically deprived of their age-long functions of raising and supplying their own young. At the same time the children lost the facility for sharing parents' traditional experience and skills, while getting only a superficial familiarity with the European standards of life.

Yes, some Chukchi went through colleges and universities. But most of them still have to live and work where they come from. And there is no work there. The young do not want to tender deer, but then again, they are unfit anyway. After ten years spent in warm school classes, the Chukchi children lose irretrievably the physical and psychological skills of survival in the severe northern climate.

That is why children are less than impressed with their own iaranga after the vacations. Marina Hodyalo recollects about the last summer: «There was fire here, so we moved to a new site. But there was no food there. Wolves chased the herd, so men found it very hard to mind the deer and the iarangas. Women, old people and children lived only on fish. But after the flood the fish disappeared, too. Ate only berries. Tummies ached, we were queasy and could not get up. The elders starved in silence, but 2-year old Alik was asking for food. Mum was crying and saying: 'What am I gonna give him?'»

We went to Anuisk village by helicopter, which was fully loaded up with books. There was also the black board, but it was barely visible from under the pile. Last week a boarding school burned down there. People think it was an arson. Luckily, it was Sunday, so the kids were home. Last year the school was on fire, too, which is a common thing here. Nobody even keeps count of burnt down tool sheds or huts. Offenders scour the sheds, stealing provisions. This year more than thirty boat engines have been nicked, a very valuable possession for residents of a village near the river. There are two policemen in the village, but they have not caught anybody yet — and local folks believe that those two have only arrived here to get the northern posting in their employment records. Some posting: they do nothing but fish and hunt. In earlier days there was just one policeman, but there was much more order, say locals. But maybe in those days people's sentiments were different? My interlocutors agree. Turns out, strangers are a real bother, but then there are some locals now who are totally unstoppable. And to make things worse, the village is regularly visited by traders, who are buying up fish and wild plants in exchange for alcohol...

We are flying back. An opening is visible in the forest behind the village. There one can see two silvery dishes, like some ground-based UFO. But these are not aliens, these are two huge antennae thrown out for lack of need. Yet another final gesture of the receding civilisation.

Peter MIKHAILOV