Road Movie

Last summer, I first came to the States – with very small money in my pocket. In Moscow, a beloved person remained, whose sponsorships were limited and limited to now, which does not prevent feelings. Feelings at that time were upset because they did not want to break apart from each other and the prospects were still foggy. Now, when a beloved person sleeps in the next room in a ground torm and from his suggestion, it makes stability, that longtime bus passage throughout America seems to me in the form of a tightened sad road Movie in the taste of Westerns – a purely washed, but monotonous landscape, a sense of own abandonality and Seven pounds of love. Movement of things, false position, Alice in the cities of Paris, Texas, then everywhere. As with any Venderes, I led road notes; As he likes his character, I started with the feeling of unmarried loneliness and cumshot if not all-in-law, then at least the feeling of his scenery in the landscape.

For the purpose of saving, I decided to go to Minneapolis by the bus, instead of flying by the plane, how I advised all serious and positive Americans living in Russia. Not that they objected against the bus, they could not argue, because they could not use anything, just two hundred eighty-five dollars for the plane did not seem to be a breathtaking amount, so we did not understand each other. I understood only Sarah. Probably because she smoked the only one of them, wore ribbon jeans and was generally from New York. She told for a farewell: "Bus station – at the corner of the 42nd and 9th. Neighure Greikhaound. You will come – Tell me".

I decided that I know everything, and three hours after the arrival came out of the subway on the corner of the famous 42nd and 5th. 42nd, as you remember, is historically known for your brothers, and now – movies and video clips with porn (xxx-rated, in both). They are struggling with them not to spoil striptease and "Show locking well" The moral appearance of the capital of the world, and XXX in every way displaced with decent family disney films, and they resist in every way. Even on the 42nd there is an arborette, where there are peacefully afternoon people under the trees on the grass, there are green chairs on the tracks, and students with notebooks, artists with albums and idle tramps from African Americans who love to smoke and suspiciously touched them "Magna". 5th Avenue Slavny on the fashionableness, luxury and grimaces of capitalism, so it remains to add only that it was rolled with a crazy speed with a crazy speed on the rollers, and so many matropolitan was hungry, as much as the Arbat did not find.

On sidewalks unobtrusively asked alms hefty men. They were not served. The crowd rolled the shaft there and here was so slow that it was impossible to look in it either alien nor her. Cocking forward, I would formulate my main American feeling. Closer to the 9th naked and knocked into the percussion instruments. There, the group of Negro Jews narrated the world about the knees of Israel. The world did not listen to them, indifferently run past the 42nd Street. Across the road from them (here you are not Germany, here everyone spit on red lights "Stop", Walk out as if nothing happened) – brown metal structures throughout the quarter. The desired object is called Port Authority. How many floors in it, I do not know because it is not clear what kind of escalators are considered for the first and where. How far it extends, I can’t say, but it can be seen that far. From the inside it is very great and unreacted. There are no pointers in it, which, to admit, I did not expect from America, where detailed instructions in English and Spanish are not supplied except the tablespoons. The only instruction that has seen everywhere is categorical "No Smoking". They smoke therefore outside, sitting on the steps: old, wrinkled, toothless, semi-man and completely drunk, smoked antisocial elements. They do not rush anywhere, sing songs and stick to passersby. There are unstable and toothy, but they look no better. Pretty unpleasant, but harmless at first glance. I didn’t throw a second look. In the three stations, the crowd looks not as an example of a gage, but let the American American who visited Moscow, who visited Moscow, who visited Moscow, Driving from Kerch to Vologda.

Inside the contingent was quite a mutader, differing from the mutader of the richness of skin shades. The staff behaved accordingly – with native rudeness. "ChYR-MOD-MOD-MOD?" – "Sorry what?" – "I say than I can help you. " The staff consisted mainly of brilliantly black, dieded people in white shirts and black pants. They were exhausted from the heat and Hamili to the incomprehensible public. Everyone is tired, everyone is hot, the queue is long, the phones have the turn, in the store (right there, in the building station) Castings with a strong Spanish accent roughly and inseparally refused to exchange a dollar in trifle. Mother with children sit on the floor. Immediately feed.

Basically, the incomprehensive audience consisted of blacks and latins, moneyless students and disheveled white people, who are necessarily something somewhere: crumpled clothes, drain sneakers, the strap of the bra is supervised. "Cropped defense", In the terminology of one wise Leningrad. Hands, Samovar Gold, Boss Hairstyles. Two hours in line, neatly built with a suspended teddy cord. Standing the queue, I repeated about myself: just not to this bath! Baba is Great and loud, customers in front of it are leaving, they are lost, she contemptuously hurries them on poorly heated Negro English. Two Temmer Puertorikankans are lively twist on the other side of the high rack, reluctantly servicing the clientele.

Ticket to Minneapolis cost one hundred thirty. Drive twenty six hours with a change in Chicago. Never in my life I did not go to buses. For luggage, it was necessary to hang a tag with personal data, to take a tag in that pocket, there is completely empty. The bus went to nine fifteen evenings; where went from, unclear. No scoreboard with arrival no. Where to ask, unknown. Booth "information" Dark and lifeless. But there is a polisman, it looks not very terrible. He showed his hand into the distance, there is another booth with a longest queue, thick glass and all of the same non-chant black English, outgoing from the inside. Fortunately, I disassembled the number "72". But where is it, Christmas trees, he departs in twenty minutes, where this outlet 72, where to take this damned tag, the time is coming, guard, police. Police gave the tag and showed it in-oh there. What am I smart that took such a little luggage. Moved fellow in misfortunes, burdened with somemates. Dragged them straight on the legs sitting on the floor.

. The bus was a long-distance "Ikarus", With the difference that instead of glasses in it, it was scratched plexiglass, the light and drills worked, and at the end of the salon there was a sorter. He duplicated an ordinary train, without a hauntern, but with toilet paper and a mass of instructions – Of course, in English and Spanish. Paper soon ended.

The driver of the standard American bus conducts instructing: "It is impossible to smoke, even in the toilet, because there are smoke detectors, but I will sit at the nearest police station, and deal there, and this is not the best way to celebrate the fourth of July (yes! Yes! After all, it was fourth of July! My fatherland elected the president, and I sit in the American bus and I do not know, whom, and ask something not! Although if the worst happened, they would probably not celebrate their independence day). And if you listen to your player, – continues the driver, – or play electronic games, then enjoy it alone and do not drip on the nerves to other loud sounds. When you can buy food, smoke and go out to warm up, I will tell you". Go. Nobody sat with me. As if left for you – if if you were just near. You have morning there. Behind the windows of the bus is an impenetrable darkness, to Cleveland to go and go, I want to sleep, and sleep is inconvenient.

Ahead of snapped, in the back of unequivals a young couple, after which there was a short female cry. Docted calm. Very sad and cold. Lights. Cleveland. There are shabby people at the station – I don’t understand this African American language, even kill, – whether he needs money, whether it wants to communicate. One question disassembled something: "Are You A Student?". Lord a lot, what’s the difference? Found a way to fight back: a cute smile of idiot and an explanation that I am Russian, in America the first day, what do you say – I do not understand.

Lazy lazy dating with fellow trains. In Russia, the long-distance buses travels a fairly specific audience, for some reason, always represents to me in Toulups (just like the bus station at all times, including the summer, I can not imagine anything like a frozen, but at the same time incessive seeds. I understand that all this is a banality, but what can you do, my whole life is spoiled by seeds). Here the contingent is a much bottle – because the squad is local, we must give it due, much more diverse. Electric Salvadorean, handyman from Brazil, two gentle blue students who intend to go by bus Already to Los Angeles. Walking by the Spanish Mother with a snotty baby, she constantly hoarsely scolds or chatting with Salvadorez. Thick, funny black women, firmly shot down and noisy, with monstrous pyramids of pigtails or so blurred gel, which seems to be the hair is washed and not washed. Student-Israelis. Silent Chinese woman with two six siblings who have been kicking my chair from behind and giggles all the way. A serious neat mulatte was sitting nearby, opened the Bible in Spanish and began to thoughtfully read, making the mark with multicolored markers.

Outside the window alternated houses of white and brown bricks, near everyone certainly flowerbed and lawn, often flag. On all parkingans of American buses there is a store with a monotonous assortment of juices, cookies and chips. There is still a film "Kodak" and indispensable T-shirts with a symbolism of a passing state, dollars for twenty. Somewhere I saw these. Probably in the coffin. All the time I wanted to eat, juice and cookies on average twice as much more expensive than in Russia, so I rapidly spent a lot of money for half a cradle, but I still wanted. The soul shamelessly asked Gene Tonic, who would not buy in these shops. Besides alcohol on company lines "Greyhound" It is also banned as smoking.

The American road, by the way, is similar to the Russian: shaking, Latana, but each bump has a sign "Kochka", And each depression is a sign "Pit". Seals viscous sand, gravel and large caps-buoy in orange and white stripe. Road works. They say, in this part of the states two years of year: Winter and road works. In Russia one: road works suspended during the winter. Each of the passing towns (the size of the Czech near Moscow) had a dozen of high buildings in the center, Capitol and Broadway Avenue. Then neat suburbs are going, and then the semi-sided nature, pink bash on the roads, wheat and corn fields, lonely farms and alien types White balls on the legs: water towers. As you can see, no landscape in the world can not be imagined without water. Sometimes in a clean field, among two or three trees, the office bilding suddenly grows, as if expelled from Down-Town or, on the contrary, in the singular surviving after the earthquake. Children’s swing on the lawns, geometric ponds, dump of reinforced concrete plates. Golf lawn. Everything is illegible, sunny and empty: festive morning.

The driver changed in Cleveland. Belowiel, spring, with transparent gray eyes. Sixty years old. At the landing, it is disliked, the tram-south blurred: "Pass, ME-U-EM". The stops did short and discriminate smokers in every way:

– This Is Not A Smoke Stop! Reboard Please!

I ended Kururovo, so the sweet couple of students leaving at the bus stop, silently pulled me every time "Malborough". The Brazilian looked closely to my eyes and promised to tell him in nature:

– Looking into your huge eyes (I do not buy a price for myself, and quoting literally. – AND. L.), I can say that you are smart, beautiful, interesting, energetic, quickly teach. You, besides, impatient and love computers.

I mean them? And what am I talking to him? However, in any flight of Intercity from Siberia to Siberia, I would have already told the standard Gypsy option: "Much-good-made-thank buy-non-selected".

Read? The book is sad, and the longing enough. Catarize America, I Murihila I resemble myself. Keep your eyes open, and the camera is ready. Contemplate landscapes. Swamp and ponds. Rivers and dumps. The ruins of farmer sheds. Landing. Blue Sky, Yellow and Green Fields. Neat houses with quadrangular rays rugs. Squints in a quiet river. Catholic church under Gothic. Trees, closed by green beard of ivy parasite. Cows. Peaceful herds and peaceful peoples. Landscape lyrics. Letters of the Russian traveler, impairing from the bus boredom.

I counted four main types outside the window, excluding industrial, and then they are simply alternating: the city, suburb, farms, forest-steppe. Then in reverse order. Here are the sale of sculptures: around the house clay vases, gnomes, snow-white and madonna, painted and unscreased. Sawmill. Capportean Grokes. Strict Baptist church. Garden. A flock of residential trays, near each standing machine. Construction site: a new suburb.

People appear: barefoot children play a ball, glossy in the sun with golden heads; The baby splashes in inflatable pools; Family sit on the porks. Golf players get out of expensive cars and get sticks. Shields along the road advertise motels and hotels, promising all imaginable and inconceivable amenities for the minimum prices. Horses. Apple orchard. Wooden barn with failed roof.

Shaggy, bearded, Viking-like electrician from Chicago in the parking lot absently asked the origin of my accent. After honest confession, he wondered how I like the victory of Yeltsin.

– I do not know, it seems so they said.

Then he asked what I think about the freshly mixed and this, like there, which was red. I said. Travels looked back without much interest. They, apparently, often drove in long-distance buses, and therefore knew not such words.

Stupidly looking out of the window on the washed morning of America, I wandered my thoughts on the night Moscow with her blooming lips and sleepy trolleybuses, why I left like it was vile, but still, roar, crazy! He drove a heavy truck with a cheerful caulkit girl driving, swept on the motorcycles group of steep in black skin. One ranches and began to repair a motorcycle on the side. Peds have piccins; Dollance in white shorts beat the balls on the balls; smoke ritual barbecue. Flags, wreaths and tricolor garlands; Metal radiance on the sale of old cars. On the lake two in the straw hats selflessly row on canoe. Ohio, Michigan, Indiana. Knip from schedule for half an hour.

As clocks on the tower, sticking red "M" McDonalds on Yellow Soles. There were tourist traps: "Yellow Brick Road. Gift shop and Oz Museum". Sell ​​paid roads: unexpectedly – Blyams! – barrier across the path, pay 3.50 and pass. Well, in Russia until you thought. Ahead of pipes, smoke, metal structures, railway and a huge lake. Sking sewage. Consequently, Chicago, bus change and driver. Midday city is completely empty. Neither a little man nor animals nor even cars towards. In the parking lots with each washbasin problem: the cranes everywhere of different designs, and the Russian mind, accustomed to uniformity, could not understand where it was necessary to pull where to push, where to grind, and where to put pressure to achieve water, droplets of liquid soap and paper napkins for hand. Oh, moroka, as Winnie Pooh said.

Food and money ended on it. I wanted to eat. Rear sat bomberwiched ebony and smelled urine. Suddenly, he asked me a handle and after that one and a half hours every five minutes came and muttered, without ceasing to smell: now I will give. Israeli, who has changed the Brazilian, shared knowledge of knowledge in Russian: Big, much, you need, go here, – I learned on the streets of Tel Aviv from the Soviet emigrants screaming across the road. Other words did not hear. Automatically, on an inexperienced concreteness of their thinking, I imagined the Russian Israelis screaming to the whole street: "Big, come here, you need a lot!" – But not slept. The farther, the more the bus began to stink, the sticky puddle was spilled by the floor, passengers turned out to be allowed, began to be almost massive brothers, quite a symptom. I did not climb into them, sadly sitting at the muddy window, immersed in the experiences of a higher and intimate order, and passing the restructures. Relative music Braverly resembled a transparent light of convergence, because I do not sleep for forty hours, forty-five hours, it’s impossible to sleep in this bus and a thick neighbor in the chair near the murmspieces whipping feet Lomit back when finally fresh air what else Milwaukee relief is incomprehensible On the pink sky, I don’t remember my cute, how I feel bad without you why you’re not near the lady smells of the lemonade of the Spirit, whether there are so poor my head.

Ugh. Cemetery. Hopelessly ordered, smooth rows of low rectangular tombstones. Cash into the horizon – green grass and white columns. How humanly the Russian cemeteries with fences, monuments, crosses, with molding trees and naive-tokskiy photographs, with slave wreaths and smeared memory, with their identical diversity, with faded flowers. In American cemeteries, the dead lie on the rack and wait for the pipe.

Consider that it went nostalgia.

Madison, Wisconsin, has already passed away from Gulia. Houses are hunted by ribbons for the sake of the holiday and everywhere you see ivy. Student Town: Students travel around the Greats, sit on open windows, railings and porches and blow beer. Ah, mommies, enviable as. Above water stroke, culturally entertaining citizens admire the sunset and travel around the engine boats, squealing in them and jumping. In the center of the Parade of Motorcyclists: One sedrels wearing a white plush hare. The sparkling river of the motorcycle flows from one distant street and hides in another, the end they do not, the sidewalks and nearby streets are braked by the audience, so that the bus is driving.

And loses. At all. We got off the road.

The borders of anger hung on the handrails of the lost bus, the end of the quotation.

Touching together with the bus I have not had yet. The young driver fucked up at filling stations to ask the road, and passengers welcomed every return of wild laughter. Entrepreneurs collapsed by schizophrenic fun, little in the face spread and on me.

Driver: So guys, I have good news. We are late for forty minutes.

Thick black woman (with inimitable skepticism): Total?

Bus Rzhet. Half an hour drive circles. The exhausted driver goes to despair. Passengers ride with laughter. He is coming back. Do not be so black face – I would be red as cancer.

Pale young man (innocent): Hey, you bought a guide?

Black woman (Echidific): Thatchs a good question!

Driver (complaints with pride residues): I do everything I can to return to the desired course. (Newly elected Yeltsin, do you rest!)

Black woman (contemptuously): you crazy.

Driver (flashing): No, I did not touch, but if you are easier from this, how much will you fit!

General recovery. Cute, unobtrusive atmosphere of a mobile crazy house. I will not be surprised if after half an hour all the choir drown: "We are going – we are going – we are going to distant edges, good neighbors, happy friends". At that moment everyone loved each other.

In a thickening summer darkness, promotional lights light up. The driver has been saddened: "This is the last stop before the real stop".

The bus – the melting boiler of nations – raced it is incomprehensible where through the darkness. The poor Susanin with children’s joy sighed into the microphone: "Left at the Fireworks", – And all impatiently acknowledged to the windows, looking at the flashabitants in the distance of small fountains of color sparks, and trembled about anything, and sighed, and were tired of tired children, so that they looked at the lights, and – "Right at the rate of fireworks!" – And everyone together turned to the right side, and the old man, coming down from behind, muttered that he would give a handle now.

After half an hour, fireworks ended, and the prodigal bus went to the finish line. We have fun living, we sing a song, and in the song it goes on how we live. At the last stop, a soft warm wind blew, in dark bushes sang night birds, from the sky on the threads hung the stars. The McDonalds McDonalds glowed tempting, where passengers with the whole crowd and pocked. Since I didn’t have money for food, I am proudly starving, looked at the stars and thought it would be romantic (I’m here, you’re there) look at the stars, remembering each other, the time of time. Won is hanging out the constellation of the mouse standing on the tail. It seems that it can be seen from your balcony. And half-Moscow can also be seen. And they are purchased there Big Macs and Potatoes of Fri and do not experience the felting feelings of love and hunger.

Nearby stood a smashed man and silently looked at the stars. He didn’t get acquainted with anyone. He was generally similar to the criminal. The driver called loaded. With food packages, with a cheerful guikan, with the greedy eye in the night jumped my fellow inside, lit up the light bulb and began to eat. Flooded food. Very much. Food. Moms woke up children and began to quickly feed them quickly. Children capricious and no fir. Stupid children. Salvadorean, loaded by packages, smiled friendly, passing by: "And what kind of food did not go?" – and won me with chicken cutlets, potatoes, ketchup and mayonnaise. Citizens of the Third World should help each other, I think so.

. Eat, stinging the white bags, hanging in the chairs under the windows, slowly picks up in plates and cards, fall asleep, putting up their sneakers in the passage, and the laugant Gutalin aunts are worn out with a vaccine driver, and the spanish ropes, dark, the light bulbs are completely a little and well some branches in the window are mashed today at night watching not even cold even a fool I and thank you how I didn’t say love my love there will give you anyone who chicken cutlet sky closes the eyes dark dark sleep my joy Minneapolis!

Advertising lights and crowns of trees in multicolored light bulbs. Outfit passengers hurriedly fell into the orange light of the bus station and praised the unloaded luggage. No one came up with anyone with anyone, because, despite the short moment of unity at the time of wandering, everything and so each other was fed to death. Twenty seven hours in the end and eight states. Maybe more. Wow! The best and cheapest way to see America from the inside is long-distance buses "Greyhound", And let the aircraft fly the one who is lazy and dislike.

Further, honestly, I remember. Up to five o’clock in the evening when I woke up and began to comprehend from the inside the life of suburban secondary class America.

The next bus happened in Denver, Colorado. This was the most ordinary city. From the ordinary city bus in Russia, it was distinguished by the regularity of the appearance, comparable to the Moscow metro, and the melodious ringing that he published at the stops. Passengers were leisurely and went out, and he was solid, measuredly drove in a well-coalged shopping street. Nobody pushed, because there were few people. And no one paid anything, because the bus was free.

Then there was a return to the country of the winning Yeltsin, and the meeting, and again parting, how much can you hang out at different ends of the country and the Earth, and the final meeting. There were many different buses that did not ring. The film was illuminated. Sarah, I did not tell anything.

And back to New York I flew by plane. In the end, he was only forty dollars more precious. The plane also had good companions. They didn’t give me a chicken boiler, but they awarded the new covenant in Russian – it seems the sixth or seventh in my collection.

True, one glorious monastery asked what I buy nothing. I honestly replied that I have money smoothly on the subway, everything went to the clothes to your loved one and family gifts. Already at the airport, at the exit, she crushed my hand, junuled the twenty and with words "You need" Radically ran back.

I stayed in some stupor and in the evening of the same day told this story to one American friend. He was so shocked that the Solom made me take another twenty dollars.

I think driving around the USA in buses "Greyhound" and telling this touching story, I would earn two hundred bucks, but the next day I was going to return, so I recommend her future travelers. Let this simple admission, they pass the standard path of the American traveler – to combine existential loneliness and all-calorie relationship.