The Dacha Is Russia's Summer Cure For Urban Life : NPR

In the Russian imagination, the dacha occupies a near-mythical place, and Russians of all generations fondly recall childhood summers at the family dacha. In the Russian imagination, the dacha occupies a near-mythical place, and Russians of all generations fondly recall childhood summers at the family dacha.YAROSLAVL REGION, Russia — My mother-in-law, Tatyana, surveys her half acre of paradise. The property consists of a three-room cottage with no running water, a vegetable garden and a trim lawn bordered by lilacs, firs and pines.Tatyana and her late husband built the dacha, or summer house, in 1992, the year after the Soviet Union collapsed. While many have been restored, village churches often remain in ruins.In the Russian imagination, the dacha occupies a near mythical place. One part of dacha life is going into the woods to hunt for berries, despite the swarms of bloodthirsty flies.The inconveniences of dacha life — the outhouse, the spotty cellphone coverage and the trips to the well — are far outweighed by its therapeutic effects."Here those city problems just disappear," says Tatyana. While dachas are usually rustic structures, the inconveniences of dacha life — the outhouse, spotty cellphone coverage and trips to the well — are far outweighed by its therapeutic effects.His partner, Natalya, a Moscow schoolteacher, agrees."This is a real vacation from the city, the noise, the people and the commotion. "I can't imagine my life without this place," she says.One of my mother-in-law's neighbors, Vladimir Beresnev, loves his dacha so much that he installed plumbing and central heating to make it comfortable in the winter as well. "The dacha isn't for everyone," he admits.Galina Boyarinova, who owns the adjoining property to Tatyana's, works during the week as an accountant in Moscow.She recalls her early years of dacha life with nostalgia and a laugh.As a young mother, she says, she slept with an ax next to her bed, even though the only dangers she ended up facing were an angry billy goat and some drunken shepherds looking for moonshine.Her daughter married a local man, and they held their wedding on the village's annual summer holiday, with Vladimir playing his accordion. There's always something to do, and it's that existential, physical activity that stressed-out city dwellers crave."We used to set up tables for the holiday right here under the trees," says Galina, standing at the gate to her dacha.