Essay
On the map of those years, you need to look for Osipenko. Otherwise, you might assume Berdyansk was skipped. From 1939 to 1958, the city bore the name of a pilot—nineteen years during which people were born and grew up here.Polina Denisovna Osipenko was born nearby, in the village of Novospaskovka, in 1907. In 1936–1938, she set women’s aviation records. In 1938, she completed a record-breaking flight with Valentina Grizodubova and Marina Raskova; she was awarded the title Hero of the Soviet Union. And in May 1939, she died in an aviation disaster. That same year, the city was named after her.Before that, the name here also changed: Novonogaisk, Berdy, Berdyansk. The port was founded in 1827 on the northern Azov Sea. The name Berdy is associated with the Berda River. It flows into the sea east of the sand spit and gave rise to this strip of land, which protects the bay from waves.The sand spit stretches for 18 kilometers and narrows to forty meters in places. On the map, it is a thin curve; in reality, it is part of the city and the Priazov National Nature Park. In 1958, the city became Berdyansk again. The village where the pilot was born is still called Osipenko. Both names remain side-by-side.
Today, Berdyansk is a seaside, climatic, and mud resort. The youth educational center «Mayak» operates on the shore. In front of its main building stands a namesake art object, designed by architect Alexey Komov. There is the «Young South» gazebo, where participants of the flagship «Young South» festival gather, and the southern beach, where the sunrise is met. The grounds feature over two thousand rose bushes.Beneath the «Don» tent, among the oaks, lies the «Tryn-trava» meadow. People walk around it—according to local folklore, this grass grants abilities. To see the inside of «Mayak, ” an application is required; tourists are not allowed inside.Go out onto the sand spit at dawn and remember Osipenko. On old maps, her name is located where we are accustomed to seeing Berdyansk. Behind it is a woman from a neighboring village. She had her own routes—through the sky; one of them was cut short in May 1939.
Eight minutes to the tent
I ran toward the «Don» tent, but it was moving away. I stop—it stands still. I approach—it moves further.
Ildar later asked if I had fallen on the way. No. I was trying to figure out the best way to approach him.
But it all started earlier, when I told my friend I was going to «Yug-Molodoy» as a lead developer for inclusive projects. She replied, «I’m proud of you!» I had to turn off notifications.
I had only one development project—"Tropa,» a route for visually impaired people along the Berdyansk Spit. I drew it on a napkin because I had forgotten my notebook, and I’ve carried it ever since in a clear file. I liked taking it out in public. It was immediately obvious: the person is thinking, even during lunch. I didn’t know what I would do with the route next. In three days, I could leave and say that we were still in the discussion phase. That’s what Aunt Zina advised. She had lived in my mind since I was twelve; in the following twelve years, I had managed to reject everything I attempted. She didn’t speak with the voice of my own aunt. My aunt is lovely.
On my first evening, I helped the gardener push a wheelbarrow out from the gap by the curb. He introduced himself as Timofeyich, asked how long I would be staying, and went over to the roses. There are over two thousand bushes at «Mayak"—he didn’t have time to be bored.I stayed by the «Don» with my laptop. Ильдар leaned over my shoulder.«The presentation?»«Almost.»«It just has your name.»«But it’s without errors.»He sat down next to me and said the defense was tomorrow at eight, with three minutes per person. I started explaining why I needed a different format. He asked what I was afraid of.I snapped my laptop shut.«Look at the grass, ” Ильдар said after a pause. „They say it grants abilities. You walk around it, you don’t crush it, you don’t tear it, you don’t litter. They also collect acorns under the oaks. You need one, at dawn.“„And what did it give you?“„I wake up without an alarm clock. Before, I used three.“I signed up for the pitch. Not because of the grass, of course. I just didn’t want him to leave and tell someone my name with mistakes in it.
At five in the morning, I gave up and walked to the southern beach. The art installation «Lighthouse» was glowing above the path. I sat on the sand and closed my eyes—it was easier to rehearse that way. But instead of my speech, I heard the water, the shells at my fingertips, and a distant bell buoy.
I pulled out my phone and started recording. This is what you can bring to your defense. Let people listen to the location I plan to guide them through. Then, I’ll really have to figure out if anyone needs such a route. The napkin didn’t answer that question.
Twenty-eight minutes before eight, I started heading back. Ten minutes to the tent, running. I reached the oaks and, just to be sure I wasn’t late, cut across the lawn.
On the third step, a small stone got into my boot. On the fourth, I stopped. By the toe, there was a wrapper from my gum—the exact one I had just dropped. I tucked it into my pocket and kept walking.
A tent came into view through the oak tree. One more step. And another oak.
I looked back: there was another tent there too. Ильdar was standing at the entrance, holding a tablet under his arm.
«Hey!»
He didn’t turn around. I rushed toward him and nearly bumped into a tree—the same one with the peeling strip of bark.
«Don’t shout, ” Aunt Zina said. „People will think you’re crazy.“
I checked my phone. The map dot was located near „Don.“ Very useful information. So, I chose the other side of the lawn. Behind the oak, it was the same entrance.
The grass rustled, as if I were walking on paper. I took out a napkin: my route was traced on it, looping across the meadow, turning, and returning toward the sea. I had never taken it. But other people must have.
„Ask someone to escort you, ” Aunt Zina advised. „Say you twisted your ankle.“
„Ildar!“ I called out. „I’m here!“
He was still standing with his back to me.
I sat right down in the grass. This morning, I figured out how to explain the way to others, but I got stuck on the lawn myself. I should have thrown away my napkin. I already pulled it out of my file, but I folded it and put it in my pocket—right where the wrapper had been.
My tracks led back. Before, I always looked ahead to see where to go and never noticed them. I had to backtrack along them. The same oak tree was ahead; I forced myself to turn away from it and place my foot in a crushed indentation.
The path crunched underfoot.
Ildar turned around.
There was a way to cut a corner before the entrance. I looked at the grass and walked around, along the oaks. I picked up an acorn from the last one—ordinary, cold. I entered the tent at 8:04.
«Your three minutes are up, ” Ildar said.
„I’m lost.“
„Where?“
I pointed out the window. He fell silent.
„Alin, there is…“
„I know.“
He didn’t laugh. The place hadn’t given me back what I lost—the next participant was already performing.
I found Timofeyich by the roses. I asked him to show me the alley to the sea, then I gave him a napkin. He stared at my directions for a long time.
„Did you walk here on your feet?“
„I want to now. Can I come with you?“
We walked away from the tent under the oaks, about eighty meters. I kept stopping him: there’s a root here, a turn here, you can hear the sea here. He was patient, only warning that the decision on whether it was comfortable for a visually impaired person couldn’t be made just by the two of us.
At the next defense, I stood with a small bell. The guys with the bicycle racks won a prize.
Aunt Zina started her own thing. I interrupted: „I heard it. Let me listen to them now.“
The path was opened next summer: an eighty-meter shell-lined walkway with bells hanging from the branches. We had to redo it several times. Timofeyich found three errors in the estimate and made me correct them.
If you come to the „Lighthouse“ on a program request, they don’t let tourists in—it’s better to walk around the lawn. Ildar swears that in the morning I ran around one oak several times. I don’t argue with him. I planted an acorn in Timofeyich’s pot. It hasn’t sprouted yet. I wrote „Alina“ on the label.
There was enough space underneath for a lead developer, but I left it as it was.
