The Cult in my Grandmother's House - стр. 28

Up to 20 people would live in a two- to three-room apartment. We slept on the floor under communal blankets with communal pillows, without any bedlinen. Everyone took turns to cook. Our rations were very meagre, usually just porridge and packet soup.

It was considered that the poorer the living conditions and food, the stronger would be the spirit.

MY SECOND YEAR OF SCHOOL

When the first school year started in Dushanbe, all the children from the commune went to one school in the centre of town. I was in the second year, in the second class. There were several of us in this class, and we all lived together for a time. There were three teachers in charge of us who read us books and made sure we did our lessons.

By this time we were all so well trained that we would spy on each other, children on children. We thought we were doing the right thing, that we had to help each other so we didn’t fall prey to schizophrenia.

One time a girl from the commune ate a whole apple at breaktime and didn’t share it with anyone. One of our group noticed and quickly ran round telling everyone. We decided to meet after class and have words with that girl. We met, gave speeches, and then hit her in the face, like the adults did with us. She couldn’t even fight us because then she would have got even worse from the teachers. We weren’t even doing it out of envy for her apple, but because we didn’t want to see her ruined by schizophrenia and whoredom.

We were sincere soldiers.

~

“How do you rate your anger?”

“8”

“And resistance?”

“6”

“Prepare for the procedure. Wait, looks like we forgot to take your pulse…”

THE CASE OF THE PAEDOPHILE

When my daughter was 10 years old, we were already living in Switzerland. Once a policeman came to her class and told everyone about paedophiles: why they are dangerous, how to recognise them; and together with the teacher got everyone to practice saying “No!”. Later I asked my daughter whether she remembered everything and from her answers I understood she’d totally got it.

It reminded me of my own run-in with a paedophile, in Dushanbe, in the same school where I was in the second class. I was eight. I was sitting on the first floor in the cloakroom, probably waiting for someone. Just then a man came in and asked where classroom 3B was. I started to explain, and he asked me to take him there. I agreed, of course, thinking it was someone’s dad. On the way, he suddenly forced me into a corner, yanked up my smock, yanked down his pants, took out his penis, masturbated and ejaculated on my panties. I had frozen out of fright and shock and couldn’t give out a single sound, although I could hear a Tajik cleaner mopping the floor behind the columns right near us. Then he left and that was that.