Never loose your childish innosence

Ma olen viimased paar päeva olnud üsna melanhoolne. Põhjuseid on mitmeid. Üks neist kindlasti võimalikud muudatused ja teine ilmselt psühholoogi juures käimine ja lapsepõlve analüüsimine. Nüüd võtsin ma ette “ringkäigu” lapsepõlvemaadel. Vaatasin pilte ja mõtlesin ja jõudsin ikka ühele järeldusele  – ilus oli. Oma valude. Aga ka võludega.
Last couple of days I have been quite melancholic. There are many reasons for that. One of course the possible changes in life and the other probably going to therapy and analyzing my childhood. Today I took a “tour” on childhood playgrounds I came to conclusion that with it was wonderful. Had its downsides. But also had its charm.
Suurema osa lapsepõlvest elasime me ühel väikesel kesklinna lähedal asuvas tänavas, pisikeste puumajadega, nii et kesklinna lähedusest hoolimata oli see nagu tilluke maakoht. Tänav tolmas, mõnedes majades polnud vettki, kaev tänava otsas. Sellel tänaval elas palju lapsi, terve tänav oli kogu aeg kilkeid ja jooksimist ja mängu täis. Kõik tundsid kõiki. Igal perel olid oma saladused, kuid välimus oli kõigil eeskujulik.
Kui nüüd mõelda, siis see oli nagu nõukaaegne segu Bullerby lastest ja Meeleheitel koduperenaistest.
Meie maja esimesel korrusel elas vanem proua – proua Koch. Millegi pärast mõjus ta nii suursuguselt ja tema kodu oli nii teistsugune, nagu teisest sajandist. Antiikmööbel, vana klaver ja ta ise oli nii tore. Ainult kohutavalt koledate varbaküüntega. Mul on varbaküüntega mingi värk, need ei meeldi mulle. Ma ei läinud kunagi proua Kochile külla uksest, ma ronisin sisse ta aknast. Alati.
Teisel pool maja, proua Kochiga ühist kööki jagades, elasid joodikud. Nad ei olnud pahad, aga ma kartsin neid. Eriti vanamutti, kes purjuspäi akna peal kõõlus ja juttu ajada tahtis. Kui ma maja tagant pidin koju minema, tekitas see minus hirmu. Ma läksin alati jooksuga ja omaette lauldes.
Most of my childhood we lived in this small street with small wooden houses and a lot of children, there was a lot of playing and running. Everybody knew everybody, every family had its secrets, but the appearances were like in a perfect little suburbia. Kind of a Soviet mix of children of Bullerby and Desperate housewifes.
On the ground floor in our house there lived an old lady – Mrs Koch, I used to love sitting in her living room. It’s was so fancy and different from what others had. An old piano and antique furniture. Fancy. And she was so nice, ladylike, like from old times. But she had ugly toe nails ( I have this thing with toes, I don’t like toes).
On the other side of the house, sharing a kitchen with Mrs Koch, lived Alcholics. I was scared of them, they were actually harmless, but they just acted weird and the Old Lady who wanted to chat was the scariest. Reminded me of witch from an Estonian children movie. When I had to use the back door to get home, I always went running and singing to myself.
Hommikuti (enne kooli? suvevaheajal?) saatis ema mind poodi piima- ja saiajärjekorda, kus ma seisin koos naabermaja memmedega, kellest osad olid veel hommikumantlis, osadel lokirullid peas, et värsket saia ja piima saada. Enne kui need otsa saavad. Piim oli siis klaaspudelis, hõbedase korgiga, millele mulle meeldis küüntega mustrit joonistada. Mõnikord tegin kogemata kaane katki. Selle eet sai pahandada.
Teises klassis aitas emme mul eesti keele tunniks luuletuse kirjutada. Seal olid read “lippa ruttu piimapoodi, sinna värsket piima toodi”. Need on mul siiani meeles. Ilmselt on piimasabas seismine oma jälje jätnud.
I was born in 1981, which means I have experiences some funny s**t. Like before school, and even on summer holidays early in the mornings it was my job to wait in a queue in front of the shop to get fresh milk and bread. You had to be there early before the shop opened because the shops usually were empty. Milk was in a glass bottle, with a silver paper stopper, it was fun to make scratces or holes in the paper. Mom was not happy when I did that.
In second grade my mom helped me to write a poem. It had lines “Run to the milk shop to get fresh milk”. I remember the lines so well. Apparently waiting in the queue for milk has left its mark on me;)
Annelinna kolimine oli suurem kui lotovõit. Kõigi mugavustega kolmetoalises korteris tuli kraanist sooja vett, meil oli täitsa oma wc ja kuuendale korrusele sai sõita liftiga. Lift oli tihti katki. Hiljem hakkas lift ka haisema. Aga ikka oli Annelinn maapealne paradiis. Kõik ei saanud sellise luksusega uhkustada. Turnikas oli mu arvates üks tänuväärne leiutis. Seal sai vaipu kloppida. Pimesikku mängida. Hiljem naabripoistega niisama juttu ajada. Vanematele turnikad ei meeldinud. Nad ei näinud meid aknast.
Moving to Annelinn was bigger than winning on lottery. Three rooms apartment and warm water in the bathroom. Or wait, the warm water was not the biggest thing. The biggest thing was that we had a bathroom. And toilet IN the apartment, not in cold hall.
And we had elevator. I took my friends for a ride to sixth floor. They were very much impressed. Later the elevator was often broken and started to smell funny. Someone mistook it for a toilet sometimes.
But still it was a heaven on Earth. Even more children to play with. And we played a lot!
Vanaema juurde maale sai bussiga. Mööda kõige ilusamat alleed. See on siiamaani ilus. Poest sai jäätist. Kommi. Limonaadi. Emme ostsis sealt raamatuid. Mujal ei olnud nii head valikut. “Kangelane tiigrinahas” on nüüd minu raamaturiiulis. Poe kõrval oli söökla. Kandikud lõhnasid märja pesuräti järele. Poe taga jõid mehed õlut. Kui vanaisa kadunud oli, võis teda sealt leida.
Buss viis küla keskusesse. Mäest üles vanaema majani tuli minna jala. See oli üks kõrge mägi. Ära väsitas. Vanaema ootas alati värava peal. Telefone siis ei olnud. Ta teadis bussiaegade järgi oodata.Vanaisa jaoks on alati lilled kõige tähtsamad olnud. Et oleks silmailu. Umbrohi on ka lill.
Lapsena meeldis mulle Vasulas olla. Seal ei pidanud kogu aeg käsi pesema nagu tädi juures. Puberteedina ma enam ei viitsinud maal käia. Seal oli igav.
I was often with grandma in the country house. We took a bus there. It drove through the most beautiful alley. It took us to the village center, our house was up on a hill, I didn’t like that hill – it was toooooo long to walk.
I always got ice and candy and lemonade from the shop (when they had it of course. Sometimes the queue was so long that I had to eat the ice cream before we could pay, because it started melting). Mom bought books from the shop. Funny that a village shop had books and the shops in the city didn’t.
Men were always drinking beer behind the shop. When grandpa was missing, we could easily located him there. Next to the shop was a local canteen. The trays smelled of wet cloth. I hate the smell of wet cloth.
Grandma was always waiting in front of the house. We had no phones back then, but she knew when the bus arrived. The house was shabby, but the garden was huge and pretty. With a lot of flowers everywhere. Nobody mowed the lawn back then. And my grandpa considered even weed to be flowers.

When I was a child I loved going to Vasula. I didn’t have to wash my hands so much as when I was in town and especially when I was with great aunt. When I got older I didn’t like to be in the country. It was boring there. I wanted to go to concerts with my friends.




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Paljud suved möödusid mul Rootsis vanaema vennal külas käies. Mind võeti alati kaasa. Mulle meeldis nii väga see tilluke Oxelösundi-nimeline Rootsi linnake. Ma olin lapsena uhke, et mul on vanaonu, kes sõja ajal Rootsi põgenes. Ajalugu oli ka huvitav, aga mulle meeldis, et see andis meile võimaluse Rootsis käia. Vanatädi ostis mulle alati asju, millest ma ei olnud undki näinud, mille olemasolust ma isegi ei teadnud. Ja need kohad mida me külastasime…Näiteks Femöre on minu jaoks siiani üks maailma ilusaim paik.
Many of my summers I was in Sweden, in a little town called Oxelösund visiting my grandma’s brother. He escaped to Sweden during WWII in a little fishing boat over the Baltic Sea. Insane.
I loved going there, because my great oncle’s wife always bought me the coolest things, things I didn’t know even existed. And the places we visited…Femöre is still one of the prettiest places in my mind.
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Õssukülast ja Rõngust tuleb eraldi kirjutada. Muidu läheks pikaks.
About plays with my cousins and visits to dad’s mother I have to write a seprate post, otherwise this post would be too long.
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