Leaning on a walking stick, they walk to the bus stop. Stooped, but with a backpack slung over their shoulders. Sometimes half-blind, and over 70 years old, some have even crossed the 80-year mark. In everyday conversations, and even while waiting for transport, they discuss high blood pressure with their peers, advising each other on the best pills to take. But they have one thing in common: their dacha plot, their beloved hundred square meters. These hardworking retirees, it seems, will never leave their homes. As long as their legs can walk.
The cult of the dacha
Five or six hundred square meters for a vegetable garden or dacha—in Soviet times, this was considered a sign of a certain wealth. Land was allocated by factories, businesses, and government agencies. These plots weren't always easy to reach. There were no private cars, and buses were overcrowded. And then you had to walk along a dirt road to get there. But people grabbed hold of almost every scrap of land. On weekends, they flocked to tend the beds.
Vegetable gardens saved us from the total shortage of everything: we grew fruits, vegetables, potatoThere wasn't the same diversity in agronomy as in the 21st century, but people had plenty to fill their cellars for the winter and make pickles and compotes from. The particularly enterprising managed to circumvent restrictions by selling surplus harvests. There were also those, mostly in the southern regions of the country, who lived solely from their gardens. Official jobs, such as shift work as security guards, served as cover. During perestroika, many abandoned their plots. Dacha cooperatives fell apart, the electrical substations that supplied centralized water were looted, and theft was rampant, stealing what others had laboriously grown from April to October.
A new stage in life
But a generation of Soviet people didn't give up and returned to their suburban dachas or their ancestral villages. There was certainly room to grow—up to 40 acres of potatoes could be planted there. Just work hard. And so they got back to work. They retired due to age, but still full of energy: after all, they'd been accustomed to physical labor since childhood. And digging in the ground is no longer considered work. They lived by the principle: rest is a change of activity.
Retirement is undoubtedly stressful for city dwellers, often leading to panic: what to do next? Being confined to the four walls of a city apartment is an unwelcome prospect. The usual social interactions are gone, and chores are already over. And so, retirees return to their six hundred square meters. Nature and fresh air are a true escape. Fatigue comes not from high blood pressure, but from creative work. The difference is significant.
Despite persuasion
While the elderly rush to tend their garden beds, the children have calculated that it's unprofitable. Supermarkets offer an abundance of fruits and vegetables, offering a delightful variety at low prices. Getting to the suburbs is expensive, time-consuming, and stressful; you never know what might happen to an elderly person on the road. The older generation counters this by arguing that they have a pension card, which entitles them to free, discounted travel. Being in nature, they forget about their troubles and their ailments. "It's as if worries and anxieties disappear into the earth," says Zinaida Ilyinichna. She is 83 years old. This year, she had eye surgery for cataracts. But she only went to the hospital in November, after she had cleaned up the entire dacha and prepared it for the next season.
A compelling argument is that the harvest from your own plot is organic. It's not the "chemicals" you get in stores. It has a flavor and aroma you won't get from store-bought fruits and vegetables. Surprisingly, young people are starting to flock to these cultivated, well-tended plots. They come to have fun, relax, and barbecue. Parents are happy: their efforts weren't in vain; whoever comes to the overgrown land will be able to do so. And everyone is together, the family is close by. That's the psychological point: the dacha is a unifying force. Rosstat cites important statistics for 2018:
- Around 60% of the population in Russia cultivates summer cottages;
- up to 40% of all agricultural products in the country are grown on private farms and dachas;
- 61% of summer residents feed themselves from their gardens, 30% create landscape designs on their plots, and 23% consider their dachas as a place for relaxation.
Elderly people still view their own plots of land as a source of support for their families. But they work there not out of necessity, but with the full understanding that the land strengthens the spirit and body, gives longevity, and the desire to live life to the fullest.