Tatyana Trubilina, the head of the local council in this desolate Russian outpost in the Barents Sea, wanted to leave a few things absolutely clear: not all 1,000 residents are alcoholics, not everyone is depressed and no one committed suicide, at least not recently.
In addition, she said, her arctic domain is a "pure paradise" if you like wild fruits, fresh fish and, of course, vast amounts of snow.
These are the duties of being in charge of a place that, thanks to a relentlessly bleak Russian critically acclaimed (at least in the West), gained an unwanted reputation of perhaps the most miserable place in Russia, a remote frozen land and desolate drunk , gross authorities, decrepit buildings and sheer desperation.
Trubilina an irrepressibly positive former teacher, made a noisy campaign, though unsuccessful, to ban the film, "Leviathan," which was filmed largely in Teriberka and won last year's Golden Globe and an Oscar nomination for best foreign film.
The film's main character, a mechanic named Kolya has his life destroyed by the mayor, a fictional version and terribly venal Trubilina. His wife, Lilya, kills himself. Among the conflicts invariably hopeless with authorities and the Russian Orthodox Church, all entornam vodka and get depressed.
"I can not understand how anyone can make a movie so dishonest," he complained Trubilina before a portrait of President Vladimir Putin hung on the wall of his office. "It's an invented version of reality that does not exist."
Like many of the critics of the film in Russia, she considers the director, Andrey Zvyagintsev a "traitor" with intent to tarnish the advances of Russia under Putin.
Old houses to be demolished in Teriberka
But the defensive fury Trubilina before it considers to be an unfair distortion, is at odds with many other residents who feel.
Nobody likes that his home is portrayed as a pit of misery, but many comfort in the fact Teriberka, regardless of what their problems are no worse than many other places in the "glubinka" as the Russians call his vast interior, or even in the United States.
It is a territory despised by urbanites, but also celebrated often by the same urbanites, as a place of authentic national identity.
Since "Leviathan" was released and began winning awards abroad and strong condemnation by Russian nationalists, even the country's Ministry of Culture, which helped pay for its production,
Teriberka has attracted a steady stream of visitors. Some are movie fans, but most are outdoor activities enthusiast, attracted by the majestic natural beauty appears in the film, as opposed to the horrible actions remorseless humans.
Two hotels are under construction and will open soon, and a third, situated in a processor of fish suspended much of its production, already offers a number of comfortable rooms.
"People want exotic things, and we are at the end of the world here," said Olga Nikolayeva, the head of the newly reformed House of Teriberka culture. "In my view, all publicity is good publicity."
When was the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, Teriberka had a population of over 10,000, 10 times the current number. Because of its proximity to major military installations, it was closed to visitors from outside and access was only by boat.
Tourists watch the Aurora Borealis in Teriberka
Since then, she has been linked by road to Murmansk and the KGB checkpoints disappeared from the city border. But also disappeared many of subsidies and state fishing fleet that kept Teriberka alive.
"This place will no longer exist in 20 years," said Ivan Koshpetruk, the manager of the fish processing plant.
Those who remained are proud to have survived in the ruins. "Everything fell apart, but we are still standing," said Lyudmilla Bokotina, 69 a meteorologist for 50 years monitors s strong winds, snow and temperatures below zero Teriberka from a wooden hut perched on an isolated hill.
She walks there every day and, with the help of a younger colleague, features eight reports every 24 hours for the weather agency of government.
She is a strong supporter of Putin, she says that increased salaries of public servants as it by a third, but also says fan of "Leviathan."
"He showed the truth," she said, leaning over a crowded wooden table record books and meteorological instruments.
She added: "He showed how we live There is no work, there is nothing for people to do and authorities only care about their own interests is all true and we have to fight this..."
At first glance, much of Teriberka looks as bad as it looks in the film, a jumble of abandoned wooden houses, concrete buildings and decrepit pier derelicts.
The main road to the city goes through a full coast fishing boats rotting hulls and other vessels, the last vestiges of a fishing industry and transport once prosperous, now dying.
Children use homemade sleds in the frozen hills of Teriberka
But the surrounding landscape has a sublime beauty with sweeping views of the pristine tundra, open sea and at night, frequent appearances of the aurora borealis, light curtains that fill the sky with a dazzling show of natural light.
These shows helped make Teriberka a popular destination among Russian young people who come here to look at the sky at night and during the day to learn "snowkiting", a winter sport that uses a kite to pull to slide and surf up ice and snow.
Even the arrival of rubles tourism does not encourage Trubilina, the head of the council. She complains that visitors make noise and disturb other nature.
"We do not need wild tourism," she said, displaying the default position of the Russian authorities that strict control is always preferable to potentially disorderly spontaneity.
The only satisfaction that tourists bring, Trubilina said, is his "disappointment to discover that life here is not so terrible" and the hope that can help counter the reputation of Teriberka, and by implication of Russia, chronic despair.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário