Reflecting on decay and the people before us

Walking around the old and decayed streets of the former Soviet Union puts a lot of things into perspective. To walk on the brink of civilisation and a harsh, unyielding desert landscape riddled with stray dogs and the old aspects of industrialism, you feel the heat of the sun, the dryness of that environment, and the remnants of a bygone era. Cracked pathways at the edge of the park met with the crumbling 'Panelka' walls with now nothingness on the other side. Thinking of the many that once placed their feet upon these very beautiful tiles. Their stories, their hardships they faced. The ones they loved and whether they were still around. I think of their stories and what life must've been like here then and for them personally. Promise, hopes and dreams, all the many things that we too feel today.

We have no connection to those people, they're gone as are those emotional stories they once held. Though all that remains are these decayed features that slowly erode with each year. Replaced as budgets increase and spending must be justified.

I think and feel the same regarding the old entrances to the Khrushchevkas along the way. Old wooden doors that have splintered and dried up. Paint scratched away from the many years of use. One entrance had larger problems that went largely ignored, water dripping through the stairway into the cold and dark walkway of the stairs. Low light, quiet beyond the splashing of each droplet. The temperature difference inside quite appealing despite the environment of decay. Beyond it another entrance to the building, an old Lada in front. You'll see that image a bit later on, I couldn't help but snap something despite it being a bit too dark inside the building to capture the droplets. I mentioned that this environment was pretty much on the edge of civilisation and that was no joke, beyond the final apartment buildings was nothing but the scorched Earth from summer. The Armenian sun and lack of rains over the past few months having led to nothing but dry dust and rocks and dead growth.

This is where some of the industry would've been, and some buildings into the horizon could be seen that clearly were abandoned factories. Stray dogs in this area would run, their heads occasionally bobbing up and down, visible only for a split second before disappearing deeper into the overgrowth. I didn't feel all that comfortable here, I could see the large number of scavenging strays roaming the land. Their land now. No longer the land of the prosperous worker. No longer the land that produced the nation's many essential items that kept the machine functional. Instead, old vans and cars lay waste. Rusted over and with most of their parts already harvested. Merely a shell of what once was, no visible stories to who it may have belonged to and how it came to be here in the first place. A visible ghost but largely ignored from familiarity in the locals.

When times were tough, the locals would've figured out a way to make ends meet by constructing little stalls around the courtyards, building their own little shops that would've sold various items they could. Most likely things like alcohol and cigarettes which would've remained in high demand for much of the locals nearby. Where else they would've had to have travelled a much larger distance with the nearby shops having closed down or grown too expensive. Now, these areas are abandoned like much else. And I see them and think of the people. I imagine how they felt about the way their country had turned out, from that time of great hope, the beautiful pavements as seen above simply the norm. Now struggling to make a living under the capitalist mindset.

I'm sure many of these abandoned cars, stalls, and decaying buildings won't last much longer. I'm sure some money laundering schemes will find a way to convince the government to simply demolish them and build something modern on their land. Replacing that history, and at the same time building something of significantly less quality despite the decay visible around the area. It's odd how time works that way, how our surroundings keep changing and giving us little attachment to those before us.