November 2010
Hello, my name is Milos. Although I have lived in your wonderful country for many years I still sometimes let my thoughts wander back to my earlier years, in the old country.
I suppose life was hard then, but, in a strange way, also pleasant because of its simplicity and security. Our village was nothing special, just one of many in the soft green valleys near the mountain foothills. My father was, basically, a blacksmith, doing all the usual things with horse-shoes, though he seemed to be more involved with repairs to all manner of farm machinery.
Meanwhile my mother looked after our small-holding, with its couple of goats and the obligatory chickens. Of course she had also to care for the home and my sister Katya.
We were happy enough. I do not think it occurred to us to be otherwise. When not in school I helped out around the place, either fetching and carrying for my father or being more domestic in assisting my mother; Katya was less useful; she had ideas about a theatre career, and was not inclined to get her hands dirty on mundane tasks.
It was only many years later that I began to realise what we were privileged to have all around us in those days; the beautiful serenity of the flower meadows, the crystal clear streams (pollution had not yet been invented), the scent of the distant pine forests drifting across in gentle summer breezes; the sound of the song birds in the early morning, the owls cry at night.
What a true saying it is: ' . . . you don't know what have until you lose it . . . '
But time passes, and, in due course, my father was considering my further education, if any. Fortunately, he had enough imagination to realise that I needed to study something that would be useful in the real world. Following up a few old family connections he managed to get me enrolled in the Smolenska Institute in the regional capital Grzorny.
I was lucky to be accepted on to the prestigious Civil Engineering program.
Some years later, to my parents delight, but also potential sadness, I graduated with honours.
The sad aspect was that there was very little prospect of a meaningful career in our poor, struggling country. And so, after much soul searching, and lengthy preparations I made my tearful farewells and headed for that land of great opportunity, milk and honey, the United Kingdom.
But that was then and now is now. The timing of my arrival in England was not exactly perfect, coinciding as it did with the global financial crisis, the near collapse of the Banking system and consequent sharp rise in un-employment.
Try as I may, I could not even get a toe-hold in the construction industry. Later, in desperation, I approached Tesco and, God help me, McDonalds; but found myself at the back of the queue behind a lot of younger even more desperate applicants. I would have got on my bike, but I could not afford one.
Any-way, to get to the point, soon after I started selling the 'Big Issue', I found that my Favourite Place was outside Sainsbury's, especially on a Saturday morning.