section7mfu | Zaoroche~an Illya backstory~chapter 7

link to chapter 6: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/227504.html
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Illya was in awe of the hardiness of these people, they were the Cossacks of old who survived the persecution of the Bolsheviks and the onslaught of the Nazis and at times now even their own government. When the war was over, Stalin didn't need Cossacks' patriotism anymore. The Soviet Government returned to their anti-Cossack practices, destroying what was left of the Cossack communities little by little.

There was a saying: "Cossacks are like children: give them a lot of food - they'll eat it all, give them a little - they'll be happy with what they have".

Yet they practiced simplicity, and were very inventive. It seemed they could survive anywhere. When in the field, if they had no metal cooking utensils they managed to cook their food in a wooden kettle, adding burning hot stones from the fire, until the water boiled. They were self-sufficient, and needed nothing from the government, and that the Kremlin did not like at all.

Once satisfied with the small huts being readied, Illya was asked by their leader to join them at their main campfire in a communal hut they had constructed, an apparent honor for an outsider. After a long day's work, the young Russian sat with them listening to their songs.

Bread salt and water was a Cossack's meal, and from customs carried over from the Zaporozhian Sich, strict rules existed, which no one could break, neither Cossack or outsider.

For the common people bread was an object of reverence; considered holy and a gift of God. This is attested by the word for grain_zbizhzhia, meaning the totality of divinity. As a sacred object bread played an important role in all Kazaki folk customs. No significant family event could take place without it. Bread was used to bring divine blessings to the commencement of every farm task,a marriage ceremony, the birth of a child, and the move to a new home. Bread was also used at funerals and wakes to part with the dead. As a sign of hospitality, guests of honor at celebrations and public functions were greeted with a ceremonial offering of bread and salt. The completion of their homes, against the cruelty of the Russian winter was a cause for celebration.

After the tasting the bread, salt and water, they drank scented sweet-tea from a Cossack samovar. Mykola whispered to Illya, telling him it was actually a potion that bewitched girls and fellows, strengthened a Cossacks health and courage, and protected them from evil forces. He laughed heartily when he saw the look on the young Russian's face.

The women served the men sweet honey, Sooshka, honey cakes and bread with jam to whet their appetites. After that came the main a meal of roasted elk, flavored with spices. The aroma was made the young Russian's stomach rumble as he, often lived on scraps, turnips and Kashi. There was very little good meat in Illya's diet, and he was ready to devour his portion doled out to him.

Though the food was delicious and plentiful among the Kazak, this meal to Illya, was spectacular, as his eating habits waxed and waned from bare subsistence to outright starvation at times. He went hungry more often than he'd liked to admit. That was in part to his Soviet masters, as they liked to keep their people lean and compliant...

As he was considered a special guest, the young Kurakin was given a larger portion, along with a loaf of bread all his own. Accompanying the meat, there were boiled root vegetables served in a thick brown gravy. It reminded him of the Ragu iz Ovoshchey his mother had made when the priest stayed that night in their dacha so long ago.

He was not insulted as they laughed at him, watching him polish off his food in no time. Yuli's wife, an exotic looking woman with almond eyes, handed him another bowl of meat.

"We could fatten you up if you would stay with us a month or two longer!" Dasha smiled.

"Would that I could mother, but my duty soon calls me to Severomorsk." He meant that with all his heart. He could live with these people the rest of his life, they had become an extended family to him as they welcomed him into their lives. Illya knew this could never be, and was at least grateful he had this time with them...

After the meal, they drank strong homemade potato vodka. Though it was not like traditional vodka made from wheat, it served its purpose for the Kazaki, unlike the State approved vodka that enslaved the Russian people into a life of drunkenness, making them dependant upon the government, as drunks could be easily controlled.

The Cossacks sang out as they toasted to the days work, now that everything was ready for the coming of winter. Though they were Christian, they honored the old ways too, throwing honey, bread and cheese as a bloodless sacrifice into the fire to honor the winter mother goddess, Rozhnitsa, whose arrival would be soon.

V62-letniy sbor Kazbek ordu

On sobral svoikh prestupnikov, no vedet , vedet dlya nas,

On sobral svoikh prestupnikov, no vedet , vedet dlya nas

On vedet , vedet dlya nas znayet, chto on ne v pervyy raz

My, russkiye nashikh serdtsakh, my dokazhem, negodyai,

My, russkiye nashikh serdtsakh, my dokazhem negodyayev...

In 62-year collecting Kazbek horde

He gathered his outlaws, but leads, leads for us,

He gathered his outlaws, but leads, leads for us

He leads, leads for us to know he's not the first time

We Russian our hearts, we will prove scoundrels,

We Russian our hearts, we will prove scoundrels

Singing the song of ragamuffins, the honor and glory of the Cossacks,

Singing the song of ragamuffins, the honor and glory of the Cossacks

We broke camp, where shelter was Caucasian,

We broke camp, where a shelter was Caucasian

There, we adopted a fortress, called Maikop."

It was a song filled with pride, of being Cossacks and surviving in spite of what life thrown at them. They gloried in their existence as a free people...and that was enough for them. In a way, he envied them, as one he left this place, his life would be one of subservience. He would have to do as he was told, and go where he was told, that was to be the sum total of his life. He stopped having any choice the day all his family had been murdered by the Nazis,

Illya couldn't help but stare across the flames of the campfire at one of the pretty girls sitting there, Magda was her name. He'd seen her around camp and had the feeling at times she was following him.

The singers paid no attention as she smiled at him. She saw he was looking at her, and stood, moving her shoulder in such a way as to call him to follow her. Illya rose, and no one took notice as he walked into the darkness, following the girl at a distance.

They met in a haystack out in the field and Magda practically threw herself at him, pulling down her blouse and baring her breasts to him. Who was he to refuse such an offer? They made love in the hay, while the songs around the campfire echoed in the distance, muffling their cries of passion.

As the weeks went on, Illya worked along side the Kuban, still learning their ways, sitting beside their campfires listening to their songs and stories...sneaking off into the night with their daughters.

Life was good, yet there was a pall that hung over these people, unseen by them. Illya knew there were few such men as these left as Stalin had seen to that as he sought to rid Kazak people of their unsophisticated and ignorant ways. That was how the Soviets saw them.

The Kubanskiye Kаzaki were clinging to their traditions, yet could not see their ways were slowly dying out, along with them. He would learn as much as he could, preserving their collective memories so they would live on.

Life on the steppes was a happy one for Illya, and the memories of it would sustain him as he went off to fulfill his duty. How he ended up in the Navy was beyond him, as he was prone to seasickness. Yet some luck was with him as he somehow had the good fortune to be assigned to a submarine, where one did not feel the effects of seasickness that much.

Illya Kuryakin sighed, thinking of Severomorsk, and not wanting to go...