Главная страница «Первого сентября»Главная страница журнала «Английский язык»Содержание №14/2008

It's a Small World

***

Everybody has his or her own interpretation of this idea. And it changes with one’s mood. If your close friend moved to a neighboring town and you couldn’t see each other every day, you’d think the distance between you is great. The world seems endless. But when you happen to meet your old friend on a trip to another country, you think, “ It’s a small world!”
We live in a global village but every small place is a small world. I’d like to tell you a story and you’ll see my point.
We are expecting a visit of our American friends from Denver and we try to find some interesting places to show them. As we were planning the program of their stay we heard about a small town Tot’ma in the North of Russia called Russian America. The fact is that Ivan Kuskov, the man who had established Fort Ross, used to live there. It’s amazing that Kuskov came from a place very far from any sea or ocean and he founded a fort in another continent. We decided that it is the very town we wanted.
Unexpectedly, we learnt that one of our teachers had been working in Tot’ma for a few years. It’s a small world! We asked him to tell us about the history of this old town. He mentioned that there’re six museums for the population of eight thousand people. And we decided to visit this small town.
First we took a train to Vologda, then a bus. The road was empty. And after a four-hour drive we started to believe that the density of population less than a person per kilometer is not a geographical fairytale.
When we arrived, we saw little wooden houses on the high bank of the river, churches, a bell tower and endless forests. It’s surprising that there is a Sea Navigation Museum there.
Totma has its own atmosphere, traditions and legends as any small place. But after visiting it we can’t treat it as other small places. The more you know the place and the more places you have been to, the smaller the world seems to be.
Tot’ma looks very Russian. It’s exciting that this place is connected with American History.
It’s a small world!

By Masha Barabanova, grade 10,
Moscow Kovcheg School

***

Once there was a piece of plasticine. He lived in a studio, on the floor under the easel. Every day, when students left their work places, he felt so terribly lonely. Not that he was so special or a one-of-a-kind type of plasticine that didn’t want to interact with others. But he was just absorbed in the thoughts of something in this world that was a part of himself, something that he could match. But, being a piece, he understood that he was destined to remain a small alienated part of an original thing he could never find.
The day came, and he saw something of that kind. Something as smooth, plastic and shapeless as he/himself. It was a piece of bubblegum on the sole of a shoe. Very small, very scared, as lonely as the piece of plasticine and as eager to find her second half. It was a she-gum.
As the sole reached the floor, the bubble gum stuck to it next to the piece of plasticine. Nobody noticed that, nothing extraordinary happened in the room at that moment. Nothing peculiar to people, but very special to these two pieces. Since that moment they both knew that no matter how lonely and abandoned you could be it was never true.
Days went by... No one came to wash the floor. It became covered with used paper, cuttings and dust – the she-gum and the he-plasticine were sheltered under the rubbish.

All went well until someone decided to search the floor for a spare piece of plasticine for his craftwork. As the hands picked up the papers and reached for the piece, both, the she-gum and the he-plasticine, knew that they were sharing their last moments of that precious feeling – being matched to someone. So now the plasticine was a part of a craftwork and not of his she-gum. And again it was the same as when they had met for the first time – nothing extraordinary happened in the room at that moment. Nothing peculiar to people but very special to these two pieces.
Nonetheless, they knew that they were not alone anymore. Not so close to each other, but still not alone.
Not so long after their separation, the she-gum was scraped off the floor. All that the he – plasticine could see was her trying desperately to cling to the floor and then thrown on a dustpan behind the door. Never in his short life had he been so sorrowful! He understood that there was nothing he could do about that, and there was no chance for him to meet her outside the studio.
Years passed, and soon a day came when the craftwork was needed no more so it made its way to a disposal dump. The he-plasticine was sure that he would end as useless rubbish until the moment he saw his she-gum on the wall of a disposal-dump. Is our world that small? It didn’t really matter for them. Those who are meant to meet each other will do that anyway. Even if they are the size of a little piece!

By Anastasia Ivanova,
4th year student, MSOPU

***

The sunset was really beautiful. The lights of the ships in the sea and the lights of the far road fell onto the pale pink water that was warm as milk. The wide stone beach was emptying… Dark distant figures were leaving the beach, speaking to each other. The waves were noiselessly running over the shore and spilling in splashes. I could hear slow pleasant music from the nearest cafes.
I was a bit bored when I picked up a little smooth stone, intending to throw it into the water. But something flashed through my mind and stopped me. I waited a bit and opened my box of paints. I looked around as if I was searching for something. There was no movement around me. Not even a lonely bird in the sky. Somebody only was swimming in the warm water with ribbons of trembling lights. And there was a yacht. It had come and stopped just opposite me a minute before. I threw my brush into the water and started painting.
I was only concentrated on the yacht. I didn’t notice voices around me. I didn’t notice that the music had got louder. I wasn’t interested in anything but that yacht. The yacht was rocking a bit with waves. A black figure appeared aboard it and reminded me of toy soldiers from my childhood. A small boat came off the yacht like a piece of cake and approached the shore.
It seemed to me that the whole world with all its stars and planets, with all its moods, smells and movements had gone into this image, into this little stone. And it was a very small world. It seemed so fantastic, mysterious and harmonious that I forgot about everything. And I could hold this world in my arms.
It was only when the picture on the stone had been finished that I realized it was cold already and the beach was almost empty. But a pair of lovers moved towards me.

– Honey! Look! This is the yacht we’ve just sailed on! It’s a small world!
– Sorry, can we take a look at it? – they asked.
– Sure! But be careful. It hasn’t dried yet, – I answered.
– Can you sell it to us? – the next question was.

I thought a bit. On the one hand, I had already got attached to the small world in this image. On the other hand, these people were really a lovely beautiful couple. Finally, I agreed.

– And where will you take this stone? – I asked with interest.
– Oh, we live in Voronezh!
– Oh, my eye! – It was my turn to wonder. – It’s a small world! I live there, too!

It was so strange to meet your fellow-townsmen so far away, a thousand kilometers from home. For some minutes we talked about our native city. But in the end that lovely couple had to go. I smiled and saw them disappear in the crowded alley with slow pleasant music from the cafes on both sides.
Then I took the box with my paints and went away.
A large round moon rose above the mountains. The stones were under my feet. The moon gave them an oddly mysterious white colour. And the whole world could go into each of them.

Maxim Shestakov,
2nd year student, VSU

***

My school, my home, my friends,
My country and other lands,
My town, my family and my lovely cat…
That’s all that I’ve always had.
My pictures, my dreams and my dove,
Adventures, troubles and my love,
My poems, jokes, fairy stuff,
That’s all that I have.
My independence, aims, education,
My future career and life foundations,
Years of work, that will be drawn
By many bright events…
That’s all will be my own.
It’s my past, my present, my future –
The small world of my memories,
That helps my heart not to break into pieces.

The world of feelings, my emotional world
Consists of the first snow, that’s so cold
Of the words of my father,
Of the laugh of my brother,
Of noise of the rain…
I like to feel it again and again!
The warmth of the sun,
The sound of the sea,
The music, that I love to hear…
To see the eyes of my best friend,
A careful touch of my mother’s hand,
To hear in silence my heart’s beat,
All these make me happy indeed!

Sometimes I want to be a bird,
And fly away from evil, hurt…
Or just to have a magic skill
And make (in a moment) my dream real!
To visit some heroes from my favorite book,
That while reading even took
My brain and my imagination
To the land of printed information.
To cry without voice,
To fly without wings,
To make a chain without rings,
To sleep on a cloud,
Trying to foresee…
I can do everything
In the world of my fantasy!

These three small worlds
Form the world of mine,
Where I live, where I feel fine.
And every person has his own one,
That’s unique and great.
Of such small worlds
Our Earth is made!

By Denisova Anastasia
gymnasium No. 2, Voronezh