LOCAL

The tradition of spending the weekend in the countryside appeared with the gift of a garden plot of six sotka, (one sotka being equivalent to 100 meters, provided by the Soviet state). Supposedly, each Muscovite had a chance to own a free garden-plot. At first, workers were offered a piece of land, but few accepted it. The real dacha-boom came in the 1970s, when the Moscow region became a summer retreat for city dwellers. Since then, each weekend has been traditionally dedicated to the dacha.

In the beginning, the lack of materials forced Russians to build cheap and temporary houses. These rather crude plots gradually became adorned with beds of potatoes, tomato gardens, cucumbers and wild flowers.

The dacha tradition is by and large inherited. In some cases original owners pass away and their children keep up the tradition. Thus, their place of recreation is settled for them in advance. It can be explained by a strong yearning for fresh air or for puttering in the garden. Traditionally, dacha-lovers spend their weekends at work. This is probably the most natural thing to Russians, who take pleasure in thev exertion: "Months of hard work may only get me two cucumbers, but they will be self-cultivated, healthy and above all, mine," commented my dacha neighbor. Plus, there is always the opportunity to cook shashlik (see article, left) and serve it with those fresh, self-cultivated vegetables.

What is shocking is the stability of this custom. While people abroad normally have only one house for both living and relaxing, Russians need at least two. This is probably due to the fact that Moscow has nothing but unremitting blocks of nearly identical flats.

The dacha plots were provided for free, and at first people were reluctant to take them on. I think that now many people must be kicking themselves, as real estate prices in Moscow and the Moscow Region are at an all-time high.

Those who have enough money to buy a real cottage (not a dacha) leave their city apartments for the country, but take a different approach. They don't raise potatoes or tomatoes. Instead, they try to perfect lawns and cultivate rare flowers. The best example of a settlement like this is Moscow's Rublevka - an elitny suburb.

This is the only way to live in the country year-round, and such cottages are usually close enough to Moscow that their residents can easily commute to and from the capital. By contrast, dacha communities have a tendency to become deserted during the winter.

For those addicted to life at their country houses, throughout the warmer months every weekend in­volves packing their gear into bags and heading for the railway and bus stations, or an evening spent waiting in interminable traffic jams every Friday. They even grab something for entertainment, such as a badminton kit or a volley ball, expecting in vain that they'll have some free time. Usually there is no time for amusement, a relaxing trip to the banya, or a refreshing swim in the middle of their hectic dacha workdays.

As for me, I regard the dacha as a place worth visiting a few times in the summer, but not for working - just relaxing. It is a perfect place for children (or a perfect solution for their parents) who are sent to spend summer there with grandparents. So, the dacha seems to meet most of the needs of most of the capital's residents. 

By Daria Chernyshova