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Pyotr Federovich Melenkov, who is Russian, was born in 1936 in the village of Admovka, Russia. After serving in the army, he settle in southern Kyrgyzstan, where he started a family and worked for many years as a driver for an antimony [1] plant. Akylbek Baltabaev interviewed him in the town of Kadamjai, in Batken oblast [province], Kyrgyzstan, on March 9-10, 2009.

I lived in Orenburg oblast [province], in the village of Admovka. My parents were Fedor Ivanovich Malenkov and Natalia Sergeevna Malenkova. My first memories begin in 1939.

We lived on a collective farm. Life was very difficult; people were living very badly. Still, they were friendly to each other. In general, there was a really joyful mood on the collective farm. Everyone tried to help each other. People kind of believed in God and that helped them, too.

I am Christian, but I respect all the other religions. I don’t really practice my religion, but I believe in God. I have only been to church a few times in my life. The first time was when I was christened. After that, my parents told me what God was and all that sort of thing. When I was young, the older people went to churches, but the younger ones did not. But, as people get older, they become more attracted to religion.

People of many different nationalities lived in our village. There was a really friendly atmosphere. For example, I had a friend – at that time we were really young – he was Kazakh and his family was the only Kazakh family in our village. His dad used to be a shepherd. But back then, we didn’t even think about what nationalities we were. We were young and we used to just play together. I know now that people discriminate against each other. But back in those times, no one would discriminate against anyone, though.

Anyway, I remember one day we were playing. I don’t know how old I was – maybe about 8 years old. I had not started school yet. I don’t even remember my friend’s name now. I know now that he was Kazakh, though. We went to his house. It was about five houses away from where I lived. His family was going to have lunch or breakfast, I don’t remember. Anyway, his dad told him to ask me to join them, but I was shy and did not want to sit with them, so I ran away. Of course, his parents were offended. Later, I saw my friend again and we started playing and he said: “My dad asked me, ‘What kind of friend do you have, who can act like that?’” Well, I listened to him and, next time I went to their house we all ate at one table. This is the kind of childhood I had.

Later, in 1941, the war began. Many of our “village-mates” were taken into the army to fight the enemy. Everyone said that they were defending their homeland and that, eventually, they would overcome the enemy. Though I was young, nevertheless, I understood the situation. I remember when my uncle hugged me – he was leaving too. Everyone was crying. The old people were telling the young men to come back victorious.

It was really hard to see our relatives and our “village-mates” leaving. We lived in a place where public transportation was rare and I remember seeing the Siberians pass by. Some were on foot, some were skiing. At that time I thought they were going hunting, but now I know that they were going to fight, because they were dressed warmly, in sheepskin jackets. It was winter. They were in a really joyful mood, ready to overcome the enemy. Some were also traveling in vehicles and on sleds drawn by horses. People met them and walked with them. Even if they were strangers, we treated them like we knew them. Everyone was in the mood to beat the enemy in so we could live in peace and friendship.

And there so many different nationalities. I did not know at that time that our country was multinational. I learned in school that our country was very big and multinational. For example, I remember from school that we had 60,000 kilometers [37,282 miles] of land borders and that the distance from west to east, from the European border to Anadyr, Chukotka [in the extreme northeast of Russia] was 11,000 kilometers [6,835 miles].

There were great hardships during the war. Listen to me, my dear grandson, we had to eat everything. We had to eat everything, from grass to mushrooms. We had to eat grass you know [tears looming]. But I don’t want to talk about it – it is all over now. But, yes, we had to eat everything. People were just trying to live and do everything to find a way to live better the next day. Women, old men and children stayed at home. They plowed the land themselves, mostly. There were no tractors. People even harnessed cows to their plows. The bulls had been driven to the front to help feed the army.

Back then, I didn’t think much about the Germans because I was too young. What could a five-year-old kid think? Of course, there was some hatred towards the enemy. When the war was on the verge of ending, of course, we had negative feelings towards Germans. My wife told me that in their village, they had a wounded Soviet soldier and a German prisoner of war. When the German first arrived, he asked for some food and our people fed him. Then the Soviet soldier lost his arm [because of his wounds] and one woman told the German soldier, angrily: “Look what you’ve done.” And, after that, the wounded Soviet soldier stood up and said: “Give him something to eat. He is a soldier, just like I am. He was executing orders, just like I was.”

Even though the Germans were our enemies, I think they are the same as we are. They did not want to do anything bad to us. It was just politicians that stirred them up against other nations. That kind of thing needs to stop. We should live in friendship and peace. For instance, let’s take the earthquake in Tashkent. [2] It felt so good to see people from all the republics of our country come to restore the city. Ukrainians, Belarusians, and people from the Baltics were there – I mean people from all over the country. When there were earthquakes in Almaty and in Ashgabat, [3] many people went to reconstruct those cities, too.

Anyway, finally, victory day came. I remember one teacher at school. Her name was Grafina Ivanovna Malenkova –she had the same last name as me – and that day she was so happy, announcing: “Victory! Victory!” I think she is still alive. Happy people ran out into the streets cheering.

Some people say that Stalin was bad. Yes, I agree that there was some cruelty, but he could not check on everybody – it was impossible. And people are right to be offended by what happened. But I liked one thing about him: he did not mess up and pull the country down. Once, Hitler said: “All I need to do is to enter Russia and they will run away like dogs.” How humiliating that was. However, the people of the USSR did not run away; they beat the enemy. And now, though we are at peace, our leaders are bringing the country down.

Twenty million people died during the war. Now look at the number who have died because of democracy. I think it is even more than in the Great Patriotic War. For example, as I remember Nagorno-Karabakh, Chechnya, and Pridnestrovie, [4] are the places where such things happened. Is it imaginable [tears coming]? When I talk about these things, I get so frustrated. Back then, people used to say that Russia was the older brother [in the Soviet Union], but I never said that. I treated everyone equally.

Back then we worked for the government and the government worked for us. I am still shocked that the Soviet people have changed so drastically after the fall of the Soviet Union. They are always trying to grab something now. They have become disrespectful. People say that it’s caused by business. Back then, people were working for the country and the country worked for the people.

I used to drive the route from Kadmajai to Minsk [Belarus] and back. From Minsk to Kadamjai is 5,600 kilometers. It was wonderful to drive all the way home from Minsk. I would feel so nice, deep in my heart, that I would sing lines from Mayakovskiy: Shiroka strana moya rodnaya, mnogo v nei lesov, polei i rek, ya takoi drugoi strany ne znayu, gde tak volno dyshit chelovek [my country is very big, there are many forests, lands and rivers in it, I don’t know any other country where man could breathe freely like this].These are good words; they matched the situation.

Parents, leaders and teachers always taught us to respect people. Now people say bad things about Stalin and other people. I think it’s true that Stalin treated war prisoners severely. Their lives in concentration camps were cruel and Stalin said: “We don’t have war prisoners, we have traitors of our motherland.” It’s easy to criticize this now, but maybe it was right the right thing to do back then, during the war. Anyway, the Soviet people got through the war and I think the current CIS countries will eventually reunite and live in peace.

Many did not return from the war, though. Some lost fathers, some lost sons, etc. After the war, the recovery began. Even though we were little kids, we did our best to help the country recover from the war. Those were very happy times. Everyone was trying to help by working on the collective farm. Fathers and grandfathers used to tell us: “Now that we’ve beaten the enemy, we’ll have much better lives.” Everyone was doing their part to help develop the country.

We grew rye, wheat, corn, and sunflowers. And it all went to the state. On our collective farm, we harvested the crops by hand, with sickles. In the Soviet era, if you had one cow and two sheep, you were considered a rich man. But if you did not, you weren’t, so people wanted to unite into collective farms. It was not bad. The bad thing was that people did not quite understand what a collective farm was. That’s why they didn’t want to join collective farms. It was actually easier to work that way – it just required honesty.

We had a planned economy back then. Look at it now. For example we don’t have a heating system and the electricity is always shutting off. During the Soviet era, the electricity was never shut down. If the electric plant paused for an hour, it would have been reported to Moscow and the people who were guilty would have been punished. Now we want to copy West, but it isn’t working for us, because we are not ready for it. If you are building a house, you have to have all the materials: cement, sand, bricks. If you don’t have one of those elements, you cannot build a house. Maybe privatization is good in general, but Kyrgyzstan was not ready for it.

I remember, after the war, we harvested the crops with horse drawn vehicles. I remember Uncle Styopa harnessing horses, since there were no trucks or other machines. Once we’d gathered the crops, we would take them to the grain elevator. Then the grain went to district center. There, [the mayor] would meet them and he would say: “Oh dear kolhozniks [collective farmers], thank you for bringing us the harvest! You yourselves ate and brought some for us, too!” Later, we began to live better. We received trucks when I was older and I was helping to load the crops into the grain elevator. So this is how it was to live at that time: difficult but very friendly and happy.

I went to school in our village. My first teacher was Aleksandra Ivanovna Isaeva. Once I had finished the first grade and entered the second grade, my mother died. That’s when I started having problems. My grades fell and I missed my mother a lot. The cemetery was located just across from our school and I could see it and I didn’t listen to what was being said in class much. I just looked at the place where my mother was buried. It was really hard for me. I wanted to become an adult faster so I could start working.

We studied Russian, literature, botany, geography, natural science, etc. When I read a book I always had a map open in front of me, so I could see where the place I was reading about was located. For instance, I was reading a book called Wilderness of the North, and I had a map and found the place that book was about. I think it was somewhere in Canada. So I know maps really well.

My first teacher taught me from first grade to fourth grade. She taught me to respect other nations because we had a multinational country. I remember our principal taught Constitution and History. Her name was Antonina Kirillovna. Grafina Ivanovna taught Geography. Korney Borisovich, who was a very old German man – probably 70 years old – taught math and he was a very kind and respectful man. After my mother died, my math was terrible. One day Korney Borisovich called me up and said: “Come to my house some time and I will teach you some math.” After that, my math got better. But my Russian was still really bad.

My parents spoke only in Russian. In school, we studied in Russian and, as a foreign language, we studied German, which Korney Borisovich taught us. Now, I know Kyrgyz and a little bit of Uzbek, too, but not much.

I used to get up in the morning and wash myself. I would have breakfast and then my parents went to the collective farm and we did the chores all by ourselves. Then I went to school. The classes lasted for 45 minutes and then the bell rang and there was a 5 minute break and then it was time to go back to school. After the third period, we had a big break to eat. It lasted for 15 minutes. I finished only seven classes because, after World War II, life was difficult and people lacked the funds for education. People tried to work, rather than study.

I was still in school when I heard Stalin had died. It was announced on the radio. We had really bad radio reception, but we could still hear what they were saying. When we heard about his death, we all cried. Everybody wondered how we were going to live without Stalin. Stalin was considered the father of the people. People at school, old and young were crying and saying that their leader had died. I was born during Lenin’s regime, but I grew up during Stalin’s.

Then I served in the army. I was drafted in 1955 and sent to Central Asia. I’ve been living in Central Asia ever since. I served in the army in the Turkestan district [Turkmenistan]: Ashgabat, Mary; near the mountains, in the desert. And wherever I served, I would meet good Soviet people. All the people I met during my army days were kind and hospitable.

I also served in the Caucasus, in Bakinskiy district, in anti-aircraft defense. I met many good people there, too, who treated me like I was their son. In the army there was no violence against young conscripts. Serving in the army was very pleasant for me. There were people of many nationalities, even Jews. Everyone was trying to defend our country and there were no hostilities among any nationalities. We were taught to respect and love everyone on the planet. In the army, I worked as a driver and, after I got out of the army, I worked for 42 years as a driver.

After the army, I went to Central Asia and ended up in Kadamjai. This is how it happened: When we were coming back from the army, I met a man. He was returning from his unit and I was returning from mine. I sailed with him on a boat [across the Caspian Sea] from Baku [Azerbaijan] to Krasnovodsk [Turkmenistan] and from Krasnovodsk we took the train. Everyone was friendly and almost everyone was going to Central Asia. There were Kyrgyz, Kazakhs, Uzbeks – there were as many nationalities as we had in the whole country.

So I made friends with this guy and he said to me: “Let’s go to Kadamjai, you’ll find work there, we have jobs. You can work as a driver, we have very pleasant weather, and the people are very nice.” So he persuaded me to come to Kadamjai. On the way, we changed trains in Ursatevsk and headed to Andijan. We arrived in Fergana and from Fergana, we went to Vodil [in Uzbekistan, on the Kyrgyz border]. He said he had some relatives there and decided to drop by and suggested I go with him. But I said that I had to go before it got really dark because I had to find some place to stay in Kadamjai. So he stopped there [in Vodil] and we arranged to meet in military registration and enlistment office when he got to Kadamjai. That was some time in 1958. I never saw him again.

When I arrived, I tried to find some people that I knew. Finally, after running around from office to office, I found one guy I knew. Then I got a job. I thought, well I will work for a while and then go back home, to Orenburg. On the first day of work my boss came up to me and said: “Here is a truck, fix it, run it, and take it tomorrow for yourself.” I said, “What about tools?” There weren’t even enough tools. I collected the tools gradually, over time. I bought some in the market and some were given to me. I have lived here for 50 years now.

During the Soviet period, we lived well. I was not a Communist, but I respected their discipline. I always respected my job and have always been rewarded for it: I was given bonuses, certificates for safe driving, a national badge, and also some medals. But, right now, my life has gotten really difficult. It is very difficult to make living now. The people need to unite. Alright, we will keep the names – Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, etc. – but let’s just get united like in the good old days. We don’t need hostility or war. We have to ensure that the sky will be clear above the heads of our grandsons.

We had almost everything in shops during Soviet times, the so-called “era of stagnation.” For pensioners these times are really hard. During the Soviet era, you could go to a stolovaya [cafeteria] and eat and have sweet tea for only two kopeks [pennies]. Bread was free; there was a sign on the wall above the bread: “Take as much as you can eat.” It would cost about 10 rubles to get down to Fergana and come back with a backpack full of groceries. Or, for instance, if I wanted to go to my homeland – and my homeland is 2,039 kilometers from Kadamjai – it would cost 19 rubles to take the train from Andijan and a plane ticket would cost 42 rubles.

In Soviet times, I could afford anything for myself. I could buy everything I wanted. If I wanted vodka, I would buy it. If I wanted cognac, I would buy it. I always had cognac at home. We used to arrange concerts at the factory. Every factory department had its own creative group, which would give performances. We even went to Bishkek, when it was called Frunze. We played soccer sometimes. The first time I ever watched TV was when I was in the army. The soldiers collected money among themselves and bought a TV. It was in 1957, in Baku. Before that, we just had radios.

Women always played a huge role in the family. A wife must understand many things to keep the family stable. If the wife understands, any disagreement can easily be settled. For example, I lived with my wife for 49 years, always in peace. We solved all our problems together. We never had inequalities. Neither her parents nor my parents interfered with our lives. When we had kids, life became even more fun.

My whole my family is living abroad now. My children and grandchildren are all working or studying abroad. There’s one in Belarus and the others are in Russia. When my son graduated from university, he wanted to stay here and live here, but he couldn’t find a job, so he had to stay in Russia. My son helps me, but I try to live without his help. They have their own problems and I think I should not be dependent on them. But when I need something, I ask.

Even if people are leaving Kyrgyzstan, going abroad, and changing their citizenships, they still miss their homeland; their souls still live in their motherlands. For example, sometimes I want to go back to my homeland, where I was born. Sometimes I criticize myself for having left my homeland. I should have built a house there and lived there. On the other, moving abroad helps people. There are not enough jobs, so what can people do? When they are abroad they can earn money and support their families. It is good for the country, too.

I live alone now and it is boring. My brother used to live here, too, but he left to return to our homeland. He was there for two years and then he died. I remember he wrote to me once, telling me not to come to our homeland because the change of climate would stress my body. But how can I live by myself? My kids come sometimes, but then they leave again. I am happy that they are able to come and visit me. My son graduated from university and is working now.

So I live alone and I cook plov [lamb pilaf], borsch [beet and cabbage soup], and kasha [cream of wheat] for myself. I don’t buy meat often because it is expensive. But, sometimes, when I can afford to eat meat, I do. I have to budget my spending because I have to pay for electricity, natural gas, and utility payments, as well. I am not saying that it is too hard to live these days, but we still have to work to survive. Luckily, we are from a generation that does not fear obstacles.