What was in the reeds. Chapter 2

Only then everything went from bad to worse. Victor hunting ground — a pair of bleached koy-kak turluchnyh walled cottages of hundred kilometers from Nukus on the edge of the world, but there is no edge and no, it absolutely endless. On one side of the steppe-desert, rarely covered with camel thorn and dzhingilom and studded with lakes, swamps, on the other reeds stretching for tens of kilometers, and perhaps into the hundreds. President of the "maize" flew.

When we are at this very Toguz tere got it turned out that there was already a whole sharaga people — seven men and one woman. Woman she is, of course, very relative, a hefty increase, the same jacket on it and the same matrix as that of men. Victor called them Muscovites, but they were all out of a little town near Moscow, and there is something forged iron.

To us they looked pretty bleak. Obliquely, it can be said, watching. I did not immediately kerf, why is it so. All the time in calf excited — how, in the pampas burst from his four-Moscow cells, and firing is about to begin, I will bring the soul. But soon I realized why these people are sour: they see us as competitors for the grace of Victor directors, of which we are all dependent. If it permits anyone of smaller fry in their hunt nemerenno land, it was only a sign of goodwill and could vyperet at any time.

As luck would have it with Victor nonsense came out. I gave him a telescope on stupidity as it was, in the box, and he found in her sales receipt and razobidelsya — say, getting at what a precious gift. Violated this most eastern etiquette, in a coffin, I saw his dad. Victor from conservatives, their exiled king still here, or they themselves have arrived here, fuck knows. He was born here and absorbed these oriental nonsense, they say, with green tea. And I go and I do not understand one thing he pouts while his buhgaltersha-lover, lush a Karakalpak-Blood, the uncrowned queen of these places, do not start a conversation with me — that is, they say, Victor Fedrychu "Muscovites" and gave the Indian sweater tea service, so they are all shortcuts poobryvali, so as not to be seen prices. And not try to explain is that accustomed keep your receipt, as the apple, in case of defect. They've got a charter. My skin is nailed to the cross cultural differences, and have nothing to twitch, only worse.

Generally much before I started coming. Last time I was here with a professor from Timiryazevki concerning him was a call from the CC Viktorov heads, and everything was first class — hunting, car, meal, rice, toast and more. And I, like a fool, taken at face value the blandishments and the invitation to come again. Reached this Kholuy bait. And so it turned out, that in itself I'm here to ponyuh not needed, not much of a nob. About me a call from the CC was not and could not be, but it was secured. Yes, even with a tail dragged.

I'm probably in vain Victor toadies call. He immediately — no more than detail on the background of the Asian landscape, where everything adheres to flattery, arrogance, theft yes bribes — baksheesh. A type of colorful, korotkorosly a powerful uncles with a bull neck and a tremendous strength, from itself all the broken-scutching. I do not know how many classes he was finished, but then raised himself as the owner of the excavator in these uncounted hundreds of kilometers of swamps. In the swamps of muskrats — millions, and every skin, I suppose, a hundred rubles at the market pulls those yet, full-length Soviet rubles when my salary barely dotsentskaya on one hat of muskrats pulling. Underground millionaire, and so, so very underground. Native state, he was taking this very muskrat on the little things, for the sake of appearances, the rest went to the left.

True, and he had to sit out a year or two — so, as a warning to honor the sacred rule must share with whom it is necessary, and do not cheat. Cheat and rob, however, all and all, right gobbsiana some solid and Darwinism. As everywhere in those days, perhaps only here it is very rude and nude.

As workers at his farm were completely illiterate, downtrodden Karakalpaks, alcoholics and drug addicts, and he led them through the intricate mat favorite treatment — Hey, Eskimo is th ..! And what he did luoravetlany. The lightest of his age — a service in the army, where he rose to sergeant, and certainly mocked greenhorn as lacking imagination. He recalled the time sentimentally, as our brother remembers his university years.

Actually, I these anthropological observations on the drum, I'm more hunting adventure dreams, but it was too curious type — the first Soviet-bye, I saw like this live. I said "bye" and immediately following picture emerges from the past of my arrival we are sitting under a canopy gazebo on the type of carpets and cushions, sipping green tea, and a solar heat near stand with folded hands on his stomach and bent over, eyes on the ground, local women who are reported in the statements at all positions, bookkeepers, housekeeper, then, behold, and in fact they have one position — slaves. And buy Victor scold them in Karakalpak, long time, the noble, the artistic pauses, sipping tea, and they still are, looking down, and did not dare to raise his eyes, not like say a word. I suppose, poorly cared for bais cows, turkeys and other animals, he has this good — on a good farm. Just picture a medieval just whip lacked. Camci, is local.

Okay, enough of BAE. He did so, for the background, it's not about story. Mind you, one last Circuits. On the day of our arrival, he made dinner dostarkhan, as usual, on the carpets, with pilaf and drinking. Do not get him he could not, custom demanded, but that's why I was angry, and anger also could not hide. During the conversation asked me what I did not bring his friends, climbers, of whom the last time told me. I said: "It is not good with the kids, who crashed, who took to drink …" Then he interrupted me: "And who fuck up" — and commercials looked triumphantly feast, and his toadies podhihiknuli. Why, buy a joke. Look — and my friends very much pristebai flattering bye into the eyes stare. Fast guys have realized from a fountain graces. I fell silent and sad.

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