Expedition The Spine of Russia - "The Ridge of Russia": Monchegorsk and Kirovsk

A chilly October afternoon. The double-glazed windows of the music school break through peppy sounds. The piano strums a little awkwardly. Soprano pulls the scales, singing before class. A timid accordionist tunes his instrument. Pure music coming out from under children's fingers nourishes the polluted air of Monchegorsk with life and hope.

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Monchegorsk is one of the most polluted cities in Russia. The road leading to the city from the north passes through treeless tundra. To the left and right of the road stretch wastelands littered with twisted trunks of dead trees. Behind the city, hefty heaps of mining waste rise.

At some distance from Monchegorsk one can see wonderful lakes and magnificent hills under snow caps. One could say that the natural beauties are breathtaking. If it weren't for breathlessness from the hyperactivity of the plant processing copper and nickel concentrate.

The Monchegorsk Music School is a precious pearl, shining against the backdrop of a bleak environment. The enthusiasm and creativity of 29 teachers of the school is beyond praise. We looked into several individual training classes and visited a delightful rehearsal of a folk music ensemble (guitars, button accordions, domras, bass domra, drums).

“The value of such rehearsals is that children communicate with each other during them,” notes the school director Svetlana Sulim, an active and charming 40-year-old woman. During the interview, she is 110 percent focused on the interlocutor. “Today’s kids sit at home staring at their computers and don’t even stick their nose out to play or chat outside. But our students get together a couple of times a week, play music, communicate and work together. And that's good for them."

The next overnight stay is planned in Apatity, but first we will go to the neighboring city - Kirovsk. There we will attend classes of a completely different kind - with Mark Ivanovich Smirnov. He is engaged in boxing with teenagers: he trains about a dozen boys and a couple of girls.

A 42-year-old man, about 175 cm tall, with a buzz cut, as if entirely twisted from tight muscles. A typical loud-mouthed foreman at the exercises - but a perfect good-natured man. He does not have a soul in these children. Likes to yell at them, find fault and scold. And they reciprocate, revere and fear him, but hold the blow and boldly meet his jokes. They are learning boxing.

The basketball court is divided by ropes into six sparring areas. Smirnov stands with his hands clasped behind his back, and intently watches first one pair of sparring partners, then another. He yells at them, pointing out their poor technique, and curses like a sailor when they show signs of laziness or fatigue.

“What the hell is going on with you?! he yells at a bony 12-year-old boy. “Well, come here!” The boy obediently approaches the coach, waiting for a reprimand. Instead, Smirnov ties the boy's untied shoelace and sends him back to the ring. “Remember,” Smirnov barks, “one step back is defense. Two steps is an escape."

Later, during a lengthy interview, Smirnov told us how boxing changes the lives of children: it takes them off the street, teaches them discipline, and brings them into good physical shape. But he admits: "Training kids is a rich thing." Coaching does not give him sufficient livelihood, but he continues to work with children every day and travels with them to competitions.

While we were talking, the children finished changing their clothes and began to return one by one to the hall to hug Smirnov or shake his hand in parting. And everyone, to the last, uttered the words that the coach taught them - a man who loves Chekhov and has a great sense of humor. “Thank you, Mark Ivanovich, for our happy childhood!”

Our car needs a name.

Ostap Bender had a Wildebeest. William Leaf Heath Moon traveled behind the wheel of the Dancing Ghost. Duke and Gonzo drove the Red Shark and the White Whale. Don Quixote had Rocinante.

In any great road trip (even if it is such only in the imagination of the participants themselves), there is always a wheelbarrow that has a name. We urgently need to find a name for our tenacious and hardy little VW.

While we were slowly getting out of the fog that had descended onto the highway by night, the idea arose to call the car Hedgehog. In memory of the classic of Soviet animation - "Hedgehog in the Fog" by Yuri Norshtein. But suddenly, like a ghostly vision in a Norshtein cartoon, a sign flickered in the fog to the Kukisvumchorr ski resort. Translated from the Sami, this means "A mountain range with a flat top near a long valley."

So, here it is - the name.

We decided to test it in the next few days and see if it fits.

Spine of Russia is an independent author's project of two journalists. More information about Paul Richardson and Mikhail Mordasov's journey through Russia can be found here: http://spineofrussia.org/. In the spring of 2016, the book Spine of Russia will be released, which can be ordered now.