Having a good Старт

It was by chance, as usually, that I got to know about the microbus Start (Старт),  manufactured by САРБ, ЛАСЗ and ДАБ from 1964 until 1970. Several years ago I discovered East German cars and Fiat Polski but Soviet cars remained quite unknown for me. I knew the names of some brands (Gaz, Lada, Moskvich...) but didn't look for further information.

There's something attractive about Старт...its odd shape and dimensions, the retro kind of front, the impossibility not to notice it...I'm afraid there must be now just too few still "alive", but fortunately (that's something rather emotional...not rational since old cars are rather polluting) there are still Soviet cars to be seen on the roads and streets, just like there are still Trabis moving around in Germany, Seat 600 in Spain and old Fiat 500 in Italy (just to put some examples of wheeled treasures).The colours of vehicles in those years were also somehow special, not only in the East. Blue, yellow and green back there were very different from those used in cars nowadays. 

references:

wikipedian article (in Russian)

お(o bé 大) GORBI 様!!!

Havia retrobat el meu Casiotone (encara funciona!) i els llibres sobre la Perestroika escrits per en Gorbi (O-Gorbi-sama....o bé Oo-Gorbi-sama) romanien per un estant de la meva habitació, propers a llibres de haiku, novel·les de Christa Wolf i un parell de llibres d’en Murakami Haruki (reiteraré que no m’agrada, però em segueixen els seus llibres). Coses que romanen...però entre elles no està la lletra sencera d’aquella obra mestra que Lena et moi vam composar (i interpretar) en honor a la perestroika...quan tindríem cosa de 7 ò 8 ò 9 anys (no era gaire més normal jugar a fer amoníac amb el meu joc de química --...microcheminova!!!!, que és a sota del sofà d’aquesta habitació-- o jugar a farmacèutiques). Els llibres eren part de la coreografia. Quin art. En Gorbi era una entitat abstracta i la perestroika no ho podia ser menys. I els soviètics i russos em queien bé....ai...pobrissons als dibuixos i sèries de temps de guerra freda que eren els dolents...o estranys, com els soviètics d’un capítol de MacGyver que vaig veure reposat. D’una banda els dibuixos de les nordamèriques....i d’altra banda, les coses japoneses estil Aldea del Arce, Juana y Sergio, La Panda de Julia....i tot això convivia amb la idea d’un Gorbi abstracte. Ai...O-Gorbi-sama a la teva datxa!! Els infants d’avui dia de No-rússia ja no tenen una entitat abstracta...en Putin fa por i no és ni perestròiquic ni glasnostià...pfff....pots comptar que la mainada li dediqui cançons...no eh!... A més ja no és temps gloriós per als teclats Casio....Els infants ja no entren en trance escoltant les melodies d’acompanyament...o el so de les tecles seguint escales musicals no-piano...uaaa!!! ocarina!!! I el sitar enllaunat??? I el so “insect”?? Com a bona criatura made in Japan alguns dels sons (no fidels al so original) eren: wadaiko, shamisen, koto.. Gran errada que no hi hagués l'opció sons de bol tibetà. Ai...tot comporta conseqüències. I de la cosa oriental+ la cosa guerra-freda...voilà el meu interès per la cosa centreasiàtica i els mongols. Urtxulun baiguulalt + il tod!!!...perestroika i glasnost en mongol. Ua!...i accepto Batmönkh com a nom de grup de death metal.

and 20 years ago...

That was the last day of life. The last day many children played on the parks . That was the last day, because on 26th April 1986 —tomorrow it will be exactly 20 years ago— the time stopped around Chernobyl area. No more children playing, no more birds chirping. Many lives ended physically but also metaphorically. The places with their houses and everything inside them remained there. The toys and photographs were covered with dust and death and the layers kept growing till today. I’ve not see the scenery but through some pictures I can figure it out. However, my mind builds some darker scenery, inhabited by even more ghostly shapes...millions of ghostly shapes behind every single thing that stands up and under every single thing that went down and remained so for 2 decades. And what is worse, these images I build in my mind might not be worse than reality, since, although it might sound topic, reality is too often worse than we can imagine.

Time stopped and the only thing that seems to move are the quantities of radiations, varying from one place to another, and some lost animals. Also vegetation seems to keep growing, invading all kind of places, replacing people. And maybe, from time to time, some radiated fruits from some trees fall down. It feels strange to be conscious about the presence of gravity in such an area. It seems that it could have disappeared with the people that left the area, and the absence of life. Time stopped somewhere as history kept following its path, as communism approached its fall. I guess there are really many places that are somehow like this, in the sense that the time flows differently.

And lately we hear that nuclear power, together with less dangerous types of sources of energy, will definitely be important to keep our world working. What world? This world with many shades of modernity, boasting about its so-called progress. I write so-called because it’s a very partial progress that affects just some aspects of lives and affects/benefits only a proportion of the inhabitants of the Earth. A generalised use of nuclear power scares me, personally, and I guess I’m not the only one with such feelings. Now people remember the disaster in Chernobyl 20 years ago and at the same time talk about the role of nuclear power in the future, but also about nuclear weapons in several countries. I wonder why the powerful ones, and many of us, didn’t act and live in a more responsible way towards the environment all these 20 years to preserve our natural resources and sources of energy? Instead, on the run toward progress, we took a rather destructive path, a rather suicidal path because progress and self satisfaction and a pretended-to-be-happier world and benefits, of course, were more important. Consummerism, production, spend-spend-spend. And yet spend and then lose. If the world’s dynamic had been more responsible for these 20 years, just to say a period of time, we might not be talking of the urgency of the seek of alternative sources of energy. And we might see the catastrophe in Chernobyl as something really distant in time, unlike what happens. It’s 20 years ago and it doesn’t seem to be that long ago since many ghosts of nuclear power keep alive. I was just 4 years old in 1986, so I remember nothing, but I think of all people born that time, all those who were children at that time, that day. Some are still alive and the generation following theirs might suffer the consequences of radiation too. The time is still stopped. How many generations will be needed? How many centuries to get the clocks back into working there? How long do we have to wait until the presence of radiation begins to fade away? Maybe, by the time that takes place, we’ve already destroyed the world and other kinds of deadly radiations pollute our bodies and souls. With the kind of people in powerful positions we have, it’s wouldn’t be that strange to see that happening.

I recommend you a couple of websites by Elena Filatova, with pictures (don’t expect “yellow” pictures...for such contents there’s nowadays tv. Pictures here depict sceneries and measurements of radioactivity) Worth seeing and reading:

http://www.angelfire.com/extreme4/kiddofspeed/journal/articles.html
http://www.elenafilatova.com/

HIROSHIMA...60 years have passed

august 6th 1945. 8:15

Secos e molhados/ Ney Matogrosso
(lyrics by João Ricardo and Vinícius de Moraes)
“ROSA DE HIROSHIMA”

PENSEM NAS CRIANÇAS
MUDAS TELEPÁTICAS

PENSEM NAS MENINAS
CEGAS INEXATAS

PENSEM NAS MULHERES
ROTAS ALTERADAS

PENSEM NAS FERIDAS
COMO ROSAS CÁLIDAS

MAS OH! NÃO SE ESQUEÇAM
DA ROSA DA ROSA

DA ROSA DE HIROSHIMA
A ROSA HEREDITÁRIA

A ROSA RADIOATIVA
ESTÚPIDA E INVÁLIDA

A ROSA COM CIRROSE
A ANTI-ROSA ATÔMICA

SEM COR SEM PERFUME
SEM ROSA SEM NADA
**********
Georges Moustaki
“Hiroshima”

Par la colombe et l'olivier,
Par la détresse du prisonnier,
Par l'enfant qui n'y est pour rien,
Peut-être viendra-t-elle demain.

Avec les mots de tous les jours,
Avec les gestes de l'amour,
Avec la peur, avec la faim,
Peut-être viendra-t-elle demain.

Par tous ceux qui sont déjà morts,
Par tous ceux qui vivent encore,
Par ceux qui voudraient vivre enfin,
Peut-être viendra-t-elle demain.
Avec les faibles, avec les forts,
Avec tous ceux qui sont d'accord,
Ne seraient-ils que quelques-uns,
Peut-être viendra-t-elle demain.

Par tous les rêves piétinés,
Par l'espérance abandonnée,
À Hiroshima, ou plus loin,
Peut-être viendra-t-elle demain,
La Paix !