As soon as the train arrived to the Kazan railway station, we’ve been taken right to the funeral. According to the Jewish tradition, close relatives stay at home for some days, it’s called “shiva” – time to recall all the good things, to look at the old photos, to be together in the hard moments of life.
In the left days of our stay, I’ve been at two apartments where we used to live, met my old friends and neighbors. My mother showed me where my Fathers worked, but now there is a municipal department, in that building.
It’s was very hard to imagine that there are places in the world ( +20 in Tel Aviv, where my mother came from) where it’s warm right now. The cold kept following me in Kazan. It’s – 23. Neither winter boots, nor two pairs of knit mittens saved. The only possible way to get from one place to another was with a fast run or by public transport.
It’s a pity it was impossible to use camera in such a low temperature (all the pictures were taken through the window). Outdoors it was as beautiful as in a fairy tale. There was silver in the air, crispy snow under the feet, the trees put on their white coats.