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The thirteenth letter of Mizhappar of the short novel of Holder Volcano

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  The thirteenth letter of Mizhappar of the short novel of Holder Volcano
  
  
  
   Hello, Mr. Sitmrat!
  
   We have an abandoned pigsty we disassembled bricks, boards and logs, and decided to sell them. We found a new way to turn stones into money.
   You understand that our construction materials are too expensive because forests were destroyed to plant cotton and the only places not covered in cotton fields are cemeteries, and our compatriots are building huts from clay bricks and not square bricks, round bricks we also dont have wood as support, so we are more vunerable to earthquakes. After we pasted ads, buyers flooded on carts, on tractors with trailers and took away all the building materials, paying the amount of money that we have appointed. Qurumboycounted the money and carefully wrapped them in a footwrap, put it in the shaft of his boot. Then said:
   - My comrades, I offer to buy a transport for our party. All leaders drive official cars, and I, that is your leader, I go on foot. Not good.
   - Comrade Commander you think the money to buy the car? The money will not even buy parts from a tractor - said Mamadiar.
   -Yes, you are right, comrade, Mamamiadiar. But, we want to buy a vehicle that does not require any gasoline, no diesel, no kerosene. We will buy a donkey. Then we will make of boards a cool watermelon with wheels from that abandoned tractor - Qurumboyexplained.
   It is a different matter - said the Mamadiar.
   - You are simply sage Platon, comrade Commissioner! - admired Yuldashvoy.
   - Before going to the market, it would be nice to eat and drink a little Russian vodka - I said.
   - Good idea-said Qurumboyand, pulling the money out of the boot, gave me the necessary amount for vodka and a snack.
   I brought four bottles of vodka with a snack, and we began to drink and eat. Qurumboydrank more than he was supposed to as a result of hopping. In the bus Qurumboy started to kick up a row:
   - Hey, people! Do you recognize your future President?! I'm Qurumboy! The leader of the party that will lead me to power! Then I'll show you all! I will become your Sultan-Emperor! Because I have a lot of money now! I can buy all of you in a place with your pathetic sheds you built out of clay,made from oval guval bricks! When I become President, I will establish an iron order in the country! The first thing I catch those students who do not want to collect cotton, and hang them on the wooden beams of the field camp! We will demonstratively execute their teachers and teachers together with the principals and they also execute where we catch! - Qurumboyshouted.
   The passengers laughed, and we tried to calm Qurumboy.
   Finally we came to the market and went through the crowd, where people stood with their cattle for sale. Around the hustle and bustle, the Bazaar, swaying like the sea. Suddenly Qurumboysaw a cow and began to scold it:
   - Hey, cow, what are you doing to me watching, similar to scrambled eggs! I'll punch you in the face... - said Qurumboy, trying to kick the cow in the face. We barely took him away from the cow, but he immediately entered into a conversation with the goat, which was held by the rope by his master. I know jiu jitsu and are the bodyguard of QurumboyI willgrab you by the horns and sweep your leg and i will choke you to death -so firmly kept Qurumboy. He resisted me, trying to get out of my arms.
   - What are you, like Satan you have a pointy beard and your horns too, want to butt the future President of Qurumboy Qoramoygutalin Morikultezak Tappitutuniy?! I'll knock you out with one hand i will spin around and punch you and you will be heavily knocked out!- said Qurumboyand kicked the goat's udder, but missed.
   -Pull yourself together, Comrade Commander - I said. Qurumboy calmed down a bit. Then suddenly came to us one broker, the so - called "dallol" and asked:
   - What do we want to buy, gentlemen? Use my service, I am ready to help you - he said.
   "We want to buy a donkey," we said.
   - No problem, gentlemen. Let's go over there where they sell donkeys and horses. We followed dallol, the Eastern broker. There we saw many donkeys, horses, and even pigs. Look-one person holds a Zebra. A real Zebra. The broker approached the dark-skinned man, who sold Zebra and began to speak as a broker at auction:
   -Hello. What's up? How are you? How are your wife and children? The glory of God. So, here, my name is Shopirkardon, and I'm ready to help you. These blood brothers want to buy a Zebra. And how much do you ask for your Zebra, sir, if it's not a secret? And let's get acquainted. How do you call that?
   The swarthy man joined the broker in the conversation:
   My name is Mumba Takatumba. I live in Northern Tanzania, in Maasai Mara . I am originally from Kenya, but by the will of fate moved to Tanzania. Although I live there, I work in the Serengetti valley, which is hunting. The Serengetti valley is such a beautiful place that a person who has been there once will not be able to go back. Falls in love with these places. My friends and I hunt elephants, leopards, lions, hyenas and sometimes giraffes there. We run in the forty-degree heat for the victims, and they also run in this heat. Raising the dust to the sky, we chase the animals, screaming and rattling pans with gnawed bones in the dusty fog, until the fall from the powerlessness of the animal that we pursue. This is very interesting on the one hand. And, on the other hand, this is a real poaching it is dangerous and hard work. One time we chased a lion for three hours without giving it a rest, and it fell. We approached, holding a spear and all other weapons, tired faces and our clothes in the dust, like statues of clay. Dust slowly dissipates around. Choking with joy, we sit, laugh, looking at each other, damn. And the lion at this time woke up, that is, outwitted us and, kicked, jumped to his feet. Then he jumped on one of our friends. The dust rose again, a cry for our friend's help, the crunch of bones and the roar of a lion! As we fled then, my God! That's the kind of work we do. Risk our lives. What do you want me to do, let me ask you. Unemployment is everywhere! To go to Russia is dangerous, they say, the skinheads are out there killing people with iron rods. It is not safe to go to Kazakhstan, they will sell us in one account in slavery! You go work in the cotton fields, they don't pay wages for years. Every year we feed silk worms and hand over tons of silk cocoons to the state, of which we make priceless silk. But the state does not want to give us our hard-earned money, delaying the issuance of wages for four, sometimes five years. Feeding silky worms is the hardest work and we work from early morning until late at night. These worms eat only the leaves of the mulberry tree growing on the edge of distant cotton fields. We have to go there and cut branches of mulberry trees with an axe. Then, tying them in bundles, it will be on their humps in the fields. Bring the branches, sort them and put them on special racks, which are located in rooms where the appropriate temperature is maintained. Worms quickly begin to eat these leaves, requiring a new portion. Yielding worms their huts, people are forced to live in the yard. Millions of worms eat a huge amount of mulberry leaves. Then they start to build their cocoons. To collect, clean, sort and send cocoons to state coffers is slave labor. To grow cotton is also hard work, but the money for their work workers get either a year or do not get. Some are in debt. A friend of mine told me:
   - Put on your old boots, ragged coat without sleeves, get on to the head cap around and go said, let the saliva, moving sideways, in district social security, where you will pass the physical, and there you will get a sickness pencion.
   I foolishly believed him and went to the district social security as he taught me. Seeing me, the doctors ran away in panic. Then people screamed, pointing at me:
   - Zombies! Look, zombies! Beat him!.. with these words they began to throw stones at me. Barely escaped with my life. Since then, I have been engaged in poaching.
   -Excuse me, Mr. Mumba Takatumba, you said You came from Africa and were born there and speak the Uzbek language. You have a skullcap on your head. How to understand? I asked in surprise.
   - Interesting questions you ask. What to do if you live there among the Uzbeks? I had to learn their language, learn their culture, national customs and all that. What's wrong? said Mumba Takatumba.
   - Wow, and that, in Africa, too, live Uzbeks? -Mamadiyar was surprised.
   - What did you think? Sure they do. How else would they live! They are very rich. All have dozens of elephants, hundreds of other animals, they keep herds of antelopes, bison, Buffalo. They move around Serengetti on their giraffes. Sometimes participate at the races of giraffes, harnessed to a cart. They have free Internet access. How amicably they live there, how they respect each other! As a family! Help each other in difficult moments, protect both their brothers and sisters!They do not know what envy, treachery, meanness is.If a talented writer or poet appears among them, they will immediately support and help them both spiritually and financially.All rush to say or write about him and his work a couple of good words.Do not try to put him down. That is why I learned the language of this friendly and unique people! And as for this Zebra, I'm asking for a cheap one. These words Mumba Takatumba called the price.
   After hearing the story of Mumba Takatumba, we were just stunned, surprised we have jaw drooped.
   Sharply turning to Qurumboy, broker Shopirkardon said:
   - That's a decent price. Moreover, the master poacher arrived here from Africa. There's an exotic animal. You can ride it, harness it in a cart or plow. And skin? It's expensive. Only rich people lay the skin of a zebra on the floor or on the sofa, decorate their walls of their luxurious homes. The price is reasonable, in my opinion. Think about it, for the money, which he asks Mr. poacher Mumba Takatumba, you can not buy even a sack of flour on the market. Agree, before he changes his mind -said broker, and shook the hand of Qurumboy firmly.
   - Yes it was, it was not said by Qurumboy and pulled out the money. Counting them a few times, he gave the required amount to the broker and, he took his share, and handed the rest to Mumba Takatumba.
   So, we bought the transport for our party.
   The weather was overcast, drizzling rain. Qurumboy sat down on the zebra and that we, leading a zebra on a leash, left the Bazaar and headed towards the house. The street people looked at Qurumboy and the zebra with great curiosity. The children followed us in droves, keeping up with us. They laughed at us, shouted and teased us. We threw stones at them, but it did not help. The dogs roared nervously, attacking the Zebra from behind, but it kicked them with it's hooves. When we approached the center of the village, the rain increased. After a few moments, the rain turned into a downpour and started pouring like a bucket. We ran to get to our office-an abandoned pigsty. Here you see, - no zebra, that is, Qurumboy was riding a donkey. Then it turned out that the zebra merchant had deceived us. He sold us a donkey, dyed in water paint into a Zebra. Well, people, and, Mr. Sitmrat? Why live by deceiving each other? Without cheating it is impossible to live?
   Surprised, the guard of Qurumboy martial artist Mizhappar.
  
  
  
  
   September 26, 2008.
   2 hours 21 minute of the day.
   The Collective Farm "Chapaev".
  
  
  
  
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