Summertime at the dacha

It's summer, the schools have broken up, and the hot weather has at last descended on Russia.

Thousands of city dwellers, anxious to escape the claustrophobic heat, noise and bustle of Moscow, turn their attentions to that uniquely Russian phenomena -- the dacha.

The Zharkovs -- a middle-class, intellectual Moscow family -- are no exception. The senior members of the clan -- grandmothers Lyudmilla Victorovna and Tatyana Anatolyevna -- take the children to the small, remote village of Nepeno, two hours' drive from the Moscow city center and an hour from the historic town of Dimitrov.

There, 2km outside the village, they will remain, apart from the odd return trip to town to replenish supplies, until the end of August.

For Ksenia, 7 and Kirill, 12, it is an idyllic way to spend the summer holidays. The dacha is a two-story wooden house which was built ten years ago by Mr Zharkov's late father. It has a somewhat "Little House on the Prairie" look to it, and from the outside, its wooden, green-painted walls and sloping, gabled roof add to its tumbledown character.

Inside, the house is neat and tidy with adequate space to sleep six comfortably. A conservatory doubles up as a kitchen and there is a small gas stove in the corner. The only modern convenience is a color portable TV which occupies the children in the mornings.

The dachas's upper level is reached by a steep, wooden ladder leading to a trap door. Upstairs is a small lounge and several cozy bedrooms -- something straight out of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears."

Mrs Zharkov, a language teacher at Moscow's prestigious Institute For Foreign Languages, finds this traditional Russian experience somewhat gruelling for more than a weekend at a time.

"Of course the kids love it, they can meet up with other children and go swimming in the pond or exploring in the woods; they generally find plenty to do," said Mrs Zharkov.

And there's always plenty to do at the dacha. The vegetable garden needs constant attention and the outdoor shower is playing up again.

The big issue this summer is who will build a new outdoor toilet. Living at the dacha certainly brings you closer to nature: it's a case of a wooden shed, a bucket lined with grass and a vast compost heap round the back! Not surprisingly, neither Mr Zharkov, his wife nor the grandmothers fancy the task of building a new toilet. As luck would have it, a neighbor, it seems, is willing to complete this daunting task.

"Some people live in their dachas all the year round and live off what they grow and make from their plots. One of the old ladies told us how beautiful the countryside looks in winter when the landscape is covered by a blanket of snow and the trees glisten with hoarfrost," said Mrs Zharkov.

Suddenly, the peaceful, lazy atmosphere is shattered by a commotion. Ksenia has trapped her finger in a plastic ring and can't free it. Tears of anguish and hysterics bring the concerned family around her within minutes.

Even her strict grandmother Tatyana Anatolyevna can't calm the tearful child. It takes the patience and sympathetic bedside manner of Mr Zharkov, a Moscow doctor, to release the child from her misery. Within minutes all is sunshine, sweetness and light as if it never happened.

The afternoon is taken up with swimming, and the children gather their towels and lilos and head for the pond a few hundred yards from the house. Surprisingly, the sand is white, clean and fine and the water is clear enough that you can see tiny fish and tadpoles negotiating the few strands of weed.

Seven or eight children splash about, laughing all the while, seemingly unperturbed by the horseflies and mosquitoes which pester the adults standing around the pond chatting and brushing them off with their towels.

The evening approaches and the family decide on a barbecue in the garden. The children busily begin searching for sticks, twigs and dry grass and build up the mound while Oleg prepares to light the fire. Against the backdrop of a spectacular sunset which paints the evening sky in scarlet and purple hues, the family members begin telling jokes and singing songs around the fire while sausages sizzle on skewers in the flames. It is a picture of perfection.

As darkness descends, the family retires to the conservatory and pack the children off to bed. Now both grandmothers have ample chance to admonish their siblings' failures while they sit and pretend to listen attentively until darkness falls and only the sounds of the crickets disturb the silence.

If you fancy renting a dacha for a few days or a couple of weeks this summer, these two firms can help you:
A) Progal, tel 164-5769/421-3134.
B) Dom Plus, tel 117-2181.