A Man and a Cactus
Very silent, small flat on the outskirts of Almaty, Kazakhstan. It’s full of daylight pouring through the windows. This is where Viktor lives. The silence reminds him about his solitude, and the light he cannot appreciate due to poor eyesight.
Viktor’s father used to be a “people’s commissar” (minister) of finances of Kazakhstan in the young Soviet Union and in those years that would only mean that he had little chances to survive Stalin’s turmoil and rotations. Most of his colleagues were imprisoned or murdered in Gulag, and suicides were very common among the high-ranked officers who were literally scared to death of being arrested. Moisei, Viktor’s father, was waiting for his turn to hear a knock on his own door. Somehow, it didn’t happen, the family survived, but Moisei’s health was broken, he died young.
Viktor worked hard to excel at the profession of his passion: geology. Most of his life he was researching uranium reserves of USSR. He was discovering what later had to become uranium diggings, highly dangerous places to work at. Viktor was so dedicated to his job that he never paid attention to the danger: “It’s mostly safe to be around uranium if you work properly”. He has met people who didn’t behave well and paid with their lives: “I’ve met workers who would lick uranium just of curiosity, I guess. They died very quickly”.
Viktor contradicts a common belief that radioactive diggings were hiring prisoners: “The conditions at uranium diggings were too good, so the prisoners were not allowed to get jobs there. The workers were receiving decent nutrition and milk every day!”
It was easy to deny any dangers of radiation-related work until they began taking toll on Viktor’s own health.
In 1979 he had to undergo a lung surgery, and that marked the beginning of the most difficult period in his life. His son tragically dies in an accident. After the surgery Viktor’s wife refuses to keep living with him and applies for a divorce. The next 4 years Viktor spends mostly in the hospitals trying to recover his health on his own. In the past few years glaucoma evolved, Viktor has almost lost his eyesight.
Viktor lives alone for over 40 years now. His daughter rarely comes to see him, and there are no other family members to offer him attention and care. Luckily, there is homecare service provided by Hesed, a Jewish charity organization. It plays a huge role in Viktor’s life, especially after his eyesight deteriorated. He can’t be thankful enough for this help.
In a long-standing fight with loneliness Viktor was able to find a way of escaping: he went for cactus breeding. He became an expert in this field and an active member of a national cactus-breeding club. He can talk about cacti for hours. Taking care of them makes him busy day in and day out.
The balcony is full of with cacti of all shapes.
Despite a brilliant career, Viktor is leading an extremely modest life. There’s no furniture in his house younger than 30-40 years old. He spends a lot on medicines in order to support status quo of his health.
Viktor is a very quiet person who never complains. As much as he can, he tries to get everything done himself. For example, he refuses from help with laundry, making it with his own hands, including hanging it to dry. That’s just how he is used to live: “I was able to do and fix anything in the house. But now it became a catastrophe – I can’t even fit a screwdriver into a screw!”
After visits like this I always imagine how a door gets closed behind me and people like Viktor stay one on one with their solitude, blindness, illnesses. With silence and light that are not bringing joy.