Sandstorm. Photo from the Internet

The development of virgin, unplowed lands for centuries, as is well known, began in 1954. The work continued intensively until 1960. A gigantic area was plowed up - more than 40 million hectares. This is larger than Germany. A colossal amount of material, energy, labor and other resources were spent.

In accordance with the plans of the party and the government, it was assumed that upon completion of these grandiose works, the bins of the motherland would burst with bread. However, to our great regret, we can say that exactly the opposite happened. The bins were so empty that for the first time ever Russian history in the sixties, huge purchases of grain abroad began.

Of course, there were probably other reasons that forced the leadership of the country of the Soviets to import grain. But already at the end of the fifties it became clear that another voluntaristic adventure, this time with virgin grain, failed miserably. At least in Kazakhstan, I saw a lot of facts confirming this.

No wonder our ancestors did not touch these lands for centuries. They were engaged exclusively in cattle breeding. The fact is that the fertile layer of North Kazakhstan soils is very thin. It was only enough for the first harvest after plowing. In these parts, strong winds blow almost all year round, especially in winter.

The disturbed land began to be intensively exposed to wind erosion. Within a couple of years, a huge percentage of the raised virgin lands remained practically without a fertile layer. There was never enough fertilizer in the country, so they often collected much less grain than it went for sowing. But even these miserable crumbs sometimes rotted on the field. There was nowhere to store bread.

The virgin campaign, like all other party undertakings, was carried out in the best Bolshevik traditions - a lot of propaganda noise and a meager organization. Hard deadlines were immediately set for the implementation of the instructions of the party and government. Everyone rushed to plow and sow.

The construction of elevators, roads and other infrastructure was left for later. And then it went on for decades. Even in the late eighties, I saw how the grain was stored in the open. Granaries were still chronically lacking.

Some virgin farms tried, it was, to return to sheep breeding and other cattle breeding. But the natural vegetation cover by this time was almost completely destroyed. Huge fields had to be sown with perennial grasses, fed with fertilizers, etc.

All these works demanded colossal costs, and made sheep breeding practically unprofitable. Collective farms and state farms began to fall apart, and the people scattered.

It was then that some smart head came up with an original way out of the next impasse, where the Soviet people had already landed for the umpteenth time under the "wise" leadership of their native communist party. A new mass student movement was organized under the prosaic name "construction teams".

In many universities of the country, like mushrooms after rain, student groups began to appear. They went to Kazakhstan, the Urals, Siberia and other virgin lands. They built houses, schools, roads. Professionals were clearly not enough, and therefore the quality of work left much to be desired. But the state itself did nothing at all.

For the sake of fairness, I will say that the students enthusiastically accepted this initiative from above, and very energetically supported it. The motivation for such a broad movement was not so much ideological considerations as outright pragmatism.

Partly, of course, the romance of long journeys and the thirst for a change of place. The guys for the so-called third working semester could make good money. Well, if we agree with the postulate that rest is a change of occupation, then work on the virgin lands was also a rest.

In the summer of 1957, a faculty construction team was already working in one of the collective farms in the Kokchetav region of Kazakhstan. We were building adobe houses. True, I personally did not build houses.

Before entering the institute, I had a chance to work for two years at a car repair plant. There he learned hard work and salty sweat. But not only. At the factory, I got a 3rd class professional driver's license, and even gained some experience driving a truck.

It was precisely because of the presence of driver's licenses that me and my classmate Mitya Koryagin were entrusted with the hard, but very responsible work of water carriers. On an old GAZ-51, which we revived from oblivion with our own hands, we carried water so scarce in those parts. Approximately 50 km empty one way and the same, of course, back. Already with life-giving moisture.

The work wasn't just hard. I would call it hard labor. Heat. Well, like in a sauna. Only the sand is not in the hourglass, but on the teeth. More precisely, a burning dry wind. The truck is rickety.

Often I had to wallow in the roadside dust for a long time, repairing the finished off rattletrap. In fact, there was no road. So, a well-groomed camel path in a scorched, deserted steppe for many kilometers.

We left early in the morning. It's dark. When the merciless crimson disk of the sun has not yet appeared in the sky. At this time of day, the breeze that had cooled during the night pleasantly cooled the body, and the rustle of the awakening steppe caressed the soul. The baranka was turned in turn. I am on one side, Mityai is on the other. Not in the sense, of course, that I only turned clockwise, and my friend against it.

Of course, in the morning it was much more pleasant to drive our battered water carrier, and therefore the order was strictly observed. It took about an hour for a one-way trip, but at the water intake station, sometimes I had to hang around for a long time.

So very often they returned home under the mercilessly scorching sun. Up to a certain point, this terrible ride has always caused me associations associated with the other world. That's how I imagined hell, where the devils fry sinners in their big frying pan without oil. But in fact, it turned out that I greatly underestimated.

Once, at the “bottling station”, as everyone called our water intake, an emergency happened. Several cranes failed at once. In this connection, I had to hang around at the station well after noon. By the time we started back, the sun was already mercilessly hot. It was impossible to touch the metal parts even inside the cabin.

Stripped down to shorts, and, periodically pouring water on each other, set off. The water, of course, was warm, but in quantity - at least fill up! At that time, as always, we probably would have reached our village without any special adventures. But that's the trouble - it was just a special adventure. Yes, what else! More than half a century has passed, but I still remember its details.

That adventure was called a dust or sandstorm. In the following years of my life, I visited the great Central Asian deserts of the Karakum and Kyzylkum, the completely waterless Judean desert and the no less sinister Sinai. However, to my great happiness, I have not had a chance to see and experience anything like this.

Well, from this place, as they say in the movies, in more detail. A sandstorm, of course, is no adventure at all. This is an incredible cataclysm of nature. Much later, I learned that the storm we then encountered was far, far from the most terrible and destructive of a long series of similar natural disasters. But what I experienced then was enough for me for the rest of my life. And today, 52 years later, I recall those ancient events with a shudder.

We managed to drive in the direction of our village about 15 kilometers, no more. The storm started quite suddenly. It seems like nowhere. The bright crimson sun somehow suddenly began to fade, to be covered with a muddy veil. A small dark cloud appeared on the horizon. It quickly increased, covering the blue of the sky. Then the first furious gust of a burning dry wind, and literally immediately the day faded.

I raised the side windows of the cabin. Clouds of burning sand mercilessly whipped over the car, blocking the midday sun. An iron cabin with battened down windows instantly turned into a sauna. Usually the steppe is quite quiet. And then suddenly a howl and whistle of the wind arose, as from a Jericho trumpet.

I once experienced something similar in the middle lane during a snow blizzard. Admittedly, the feeling is also not pleasant, but still not so hot. And here in some shorts, sweat hail and the worst thing - you can’t see a single thing. I twist the steering wheel, as if blindfolded, at random.

However, you cannot stop. Literally, as Vysotsky sang: “... Back five hundred, five hundred ahead, we signal in vain - a blizzard, and there is no one to help ...” True, our distance was an order of magnitude less and instead of snow - sand. But the ending could turn out to be the same: “... it will level out so much that there is no need to bury ...” In short, we are going. Where, the devil knows! And suddenly - about happiness! Through the sandy haze we see a white mound.

Dima fell out of the cab. A shirt on your head, well, so that the sand does not hurt your eyes. Went to explore. Returns in a couple of minutes. He yells at the top of his lungs, trying to outshout the howling of the snowstorm: “Hurrah! Long live life! Saved! Kazakh yurt!

That's when I first learned what real human hospitality is. With difficulty he opened the cabin door, overcoming the bestial pressure of the elements. I got out, and immediately felt hundreds of needles-grains of sand dug into the body. The feeling, it seems, is whipped with rods.

I looked around, about twenty paces from the car there was a large white felt yurt. Nearby is a Kazakh in a bathrobe. He waves his hand, they say, quickly for cover. On the move, he put on a shirt and jumped into the yurt. As I found out later, the Kazakhs have always considered a white yurt (ak uy) a symbol of prosperity and well-being since ancient times. And wow, for the first time in my life, quite by accident, and even under such tragic circumstances, I ended up in just such a yurt.

Of course, I already had some information about the ancient nomadic dwelling. But even remotely I did not suspect what a miracle it was. A true triumph of human genius. Admittedly, I felt some anxiety. At first it seemed that the beautiful yurt would not survive and could take off. At least in parts.

But fortunately, everything worked out. And soon, just as suddenly, the storm subsided.
The Kazakh, having learned that there was a precious liquid in our cistern, begged to pour at least a small fraction of it for him.

Well, how could we refuse our savior? I poured all two tons of water into the nomad's concrete pit. Well, for such a royal gift, the grateful aksakal gave Dima and me a khan's dinner.

It was at that time that I not only thoroughly got acquainted with the Kazakh yurt, but, what is no less pleasant to remember, for the first time in my life I tried a real Kazakh beshbarmak. The name of the dish is translated into Russian in a very strange way - “five fingers”. But there is logic here. Kazakhs eat beshbarmak with five fingers. Well, at least four. We, however, due to lack of experience, weeded spoons.

It is served on a large platter. At its bottom are squares of dough cooked in a special broth. Slices of boiled lamb are stacked on such a base. Around it are impressive bones with meat. All this "construction" is richly flavored with various spices, and sprinkled with parsley and dill. Separately, rich broth with noodles is served in bowls.

Such a meal, of course, required a plentiful alcoholic accompaniment. Soviet authority by that time it leveled all religions in terms of alcohol consumption. So our savior-benefactor Kazakh Muslim, without looking back at the Koran, consumed vodka, not at all in smaller quantities than we did.

Some national features, of course, manifested themselves, but only in the procedure. The fact is that we drank vodka not from glasses and glasses, but from bowls. Much later, when I was working at MTZ, I often happened to be in these parts. And on almost every business trip he sat at the hospitable Uzbek or Kazakh tables. Of course with libations.

However, to be honest, I never learned to drink alcohol from a bowl. However, fortunately, in general, I have always treated strong drinks without much respect. But I still remember the saying that I often heard during Central Asian feasts: “In the East, they don’t force you to eat. Here they only force you to drink.”

Reviews

Lev Samuilovich! Expensive. As always, I enjoyed the story about the dust storm and the student teams. You and I are children of the same generation and have lived through all this. Our happiness was that we were young. And now, nostalgic for those times, I must say that despite the fact that you are, as always, accurate and fair in your assessments, there was something at that time that I did not begin to catch right away. It is true what they say: there is no evil without good. You spoke about the role of the party in the virgin lands. Of course, stupidity, of course, complete idiocy raised to the state scale. This is the same Khrushchev defeat of literary and art figures, only in agriculture! There is this old joke:
-Armenian radio was asked who invented communism: communists or scientists?
-Answer immediately awaited: -Of course, the Communists! Because if scientists would have tried it on dogs first!
So. Despite stupidity and stupidity, there is something good, human in that time. There was mutual assistance, there was enthusiasm, brotherhood. Even complex national issues were much more tolerant, somehow smoother. In itself, a savage ideology, but gave birth to good sprouts. Leveling, in itself disgusting, but the original dream of justice was laid in it. And we lived brighter, cleaner.
It was so nice to remember my student days. Very similar to what you said. After all, before the institute I was engaged in cross-country on moto and auto. He entered the forestry institute at the Faculty of Mechanics, the department of "road transport operation" and rode all brands of cars and tractors. He participated in competitions and even fulfilled the standards of a candidate master. Therefore, on collective farms, he plowed and rode trucks. I will never forget the plowing, when even without dust storms I was like a Negro and the dust crunched on my teeth! It was wonderful time! Thank you very much!

Dictionary of the Winds

Dust storm

(Dust storm), dust storm

strong wind rising from the earth's surface a large number of dust or sand blowing upper layer dried soil, not fastened by vegetation, resulting in poor visibility. P. b. has different names: tozlu fyrtyna ( Azeri), chatsduu boron ( Kirg.), changli buran (uzb.), tufani chang ( taj.), byylaakh buurba (Yakut.), Korianteli (Georgian), imanadyaran ( Evenk.), zandhoze ( German Sandhose), will give a storm ( English dust storm).

Dust spread during the northwestern Dust Storm on July 17, 1970 over Mesopotamia. Hatching - the degree of clouding.

In arid areas, steppes and deserts P. b. usually observed during rainless periods in spring and early autumn due to the dryness of the soil. According to the color of the dust raised by the wind, P. b. white (on solonchaks), yellow and brown (on loams and sandy loams of the same color), red (on red loams and sandy loams and sands enriched with iron oxides), black (on chernozems).

Distribution of dust in the Lower Volga region during the southeastern Dust Storm on June 13, 1970 1 - strong turbidity, 2 - moderate turbidity, 3 - direction of dust flows.

P. b. begins with the formation of a focus near the ground, when the wind strength is sufficient to start wind erosion. Then P. b. develops upwards and across the area. According to the source of sand and dust suspension P. b. divided into local and advective. The latter spread in the wind far from the source of their occurrence. According to photographs taken with the help of satellites, the penetration of dust clouds from the Sahara through the Atlantic Ocean to Central America was detected (see). Every summer, 60-200 million tons of dust is carried out of the Sahara into the Atlantic alone.

In the USSR, the most extensive focus of P. b. located in the Central Karakum and the foothills of the Kopetdag. P. b. often cover the Lower Volkh-Sie, the North Caucasus and the south of Ukraine. There are three main areas of active development of P. b.: over the northern and northeastern coast of the Caspian Sea, over the southern and southeastern coast of the Caspian Sea, and over the northeastern coast Aral Sea. The progressive shallowing of these seas contributes to the formation of sandy zones. Dust waves with visibility less than 200 m alternate with visibility zones of 3-4 km and spread to the southwest and west. They cross the Aral Sea in long and wide streams and reach the Ustyurt plateau or the Amudarya delta.

The main area of ​​occurrence of dust drifts containing salts and carbonates covers the Caspian lowland and the northeastern coast of the Caspian Sea. The dust carryover has a multi-jet structure. The centers of deflation, judging by satellite data, are located in relief depressions occupied by solonchaks, in a coastal strip only about 50 km wide. The winds carry the dust raised here to the region of the river delta. Volga and further to the northwest (see).

The sizes of the covered P. b. Territories vary widely, from hundreds of square meters to thousands of square kilometers. The northern border of the distribution of P. b. in the USSR it passes through Balta, Kharkov, Ufa, Orenburg, Altai Territory.

The main areas of dust storms outside the USSR: 1. Central and West Africa. In the south of the Sahara, P. b. can cover spaces measuring 2500X600 km, from the river. Senegal to the lake. Chad, in the form of stripes, elongated mainly latitudinally. Here, the Harmattan carries masses of dust across the Guinean coast to a sea called the Sea of ​​Gloom. 2. The Mediterranean coast of Africa and the Levant. 3. East Africa- Sudan, from the Nile to the Red Sea. The concentration of dust in the air noticeably increases when the wind flow slows down near the intratropical convergence zone. The northern edge of the dust flow zone sometimes looks like a gigantic curved squall. P. b. occur when a relatively cold northwest wind meets a hot southwest monsoon. Dust rises in powerful convective currents, is picked up by high-altitude currents and carried over the mountains to the south of the Red Sea. 4. Arabian Peninsula. P. b. arise in the transition zone between a cyclone and an anticyclone in the form of powerful jets with a velocity maximum at a height of 1.5 km (see ). Dust jets consist of parallel swirling and expanding streams. Dust is transported in the corridor between the mountains of Asia Minor and Saudi Arabia. 5. Deserts and steppes of Mongolia, China, south Central Asia. 6. Central States North America- the region of the Bowl of Dust (Great Plains, Colorado, Kansas, Texas, etc.). and pampas South America. 7. Steppes and deserts of Australia.