Александр Пахотин - «Высшая мера» и другие рассказы на английском языке

The next day, however, there was a heat wave and it was blistering hot. The temperature reached forty-seven degrees, and during the day it was almost impossible for me and the group to go anywhere without staying in the shade. We had to walk under covered walkways, or stay under the canvas awningsof shops and cafes, as it was absolutely unbearablein the sun.

I remember that Damascus was dead during the day-time, with nearly empty streets and no other signs of life. But when the sun went down at about nine o’clock in the evening, the city came alive. People would come out into the streets, the cafes and restaurants would open, and social life would start. They’d go to parties, visit each other, buy and sell things, go to the cinemas and so on. This carried onuntil about three or four in the morning.

It was like an upside-down world for my friend, as in Siberia everything closed at about eight, the day finished and everybody went home and stayed there watching TV or rather going to bed.

Another thing that surprised me was that, whereas in Russia it was very unusual for children to go out with their parents in the evening, in Damascus it was quite common. Children of three or four years old would be sitting next to their parents in restaurants or cafes or, more usually, playing between the tables. I found this especially unusual as Russia was still behind the Iron Curtain at that time and I’d never had an opportunity to travel abroad before.

The dancing tour was a dazzling success. The group performed in several cities, including Damascus, Aleppo and Latakia, and in each place the audiences went wild. They applaudedand called for encoresagain and again. The dancing tour was a great success. The dancers were accompanied by a small group of musicians playing Russian folk instruments, balalaikas, which was very unusual for the local people, who were mostly Arabs, as their music was completely different; they were altogether amused, amazedand thoroughlyentertained.

The group was especially successful in Aleppo, as thousands of Armenians live there. Armenia was a republic of the Soviet Union at that time, and when the locals learnt that a group from Russia were playing, and also that they played music by Khachaturian, the famous Armenian composer, they flockedto the performance. The group was very warmly received. The audience applauded and encored them many times, and was very enthusiastic, maybe because they liked the music so much and felt a deep nostalgic connection with it.

The group stayed in a beautiful five star hotel in Damascus, with luxuriousfacilities, swimming pools, tennis courts, huge four course meals and top class service, which was a real noveltyfor me. To this day, I still think the whole experiencewas one of the greatest of my life. It was my first trip abroad, and the first impressions are the strongest.

composeсоставлять

to see them danceсмотреть, как они танцуют

couldn’t help admiringне мог не восхищаться

magnificentвеликолепный

chillyпрохладный

blistering hot здесь очень жарко

awningнавес из плотной ткани над входом

unbearableневыносимый

carry onпродолжать(ся)

dazzling success здесь оглушительный успех

go wild здесь приходить в неистовство

applaudхлопать в ладоши

encoreеще раз (на “бис”)

amazedудивленный

thoroughly здесь полностью

flock здесь собираться

luxuriousроскошный

novelty здесь было в новинку

experience здесь впечатления от поездки

Who was Alexander and why did he go to Damascus?

Why did Alex like the dancing group?

What did the group feel when they arrived in Damascus?

Why was Syria like an upside-down world for Alex?

Was the tour a success? Prove your point of view.

Why was Alex so much impressed by his trip to Syria?

Read aloud and translate any paragraph you like.

(1052 words)

It happened when I lived in Budapest with my mother who worked at the American International School of Budapest. One August evening, as I was coming back from a fitness center, I saw an ad. Or rather, I saw the ad that advertised Michael Jackson’s concert. I felt dizzywith excitement. The King of Pop was coming to Budapest. This was more than I could possibly dream of.

I was a big fan of Michael at the time. The walls in my room were covered with his pin-upsand posters, and all my schoolbook covers had pictures of Michael in various poses plastered all over them.

The moment the ad caught my eyeI decided to get a picture of Michael in Budapest at all costs. I knew perfectly well that there would be hundreds of other fans with the same wish. I also knew that Michael would be very difficult to photograph. He had signed some kind of agreement with the Pepsi Company, giving them exclusive rights for coveringhis world tour. But nothing would make me give upmy idea.

My first task was to find out about the day and the exact time of Michael’s arrival. It took me some time and effort to learn that he was coming on the eve of his concert. I couldn’t get infoabout the time of his arrival, but I was told he would be staying at the Kempinski Hotel. This first-class hotel is right in the center of Budapest, just at the end of Vaci Street, which is a pedestrian zone. Actually, the street is very short but it’s the most popular place among the tourist attractions of Budapest. The street is full of most expensive shops, art galleries, cafes and restaurants.

Anyway, I prepared everything for the arrival of my idol. I took my camera with a couple of extra films, and filled my backpackwith some sandwiches, pop, and other stuff that could come in handy(like my umbrella, sunglasses, pictures of M.J., binoculars etc.).

My plan was clear and simple: I was going to catch M.J. at the Kempinski Hotel and take a photo of him there.

I got to the hotel at about 10 in the morning. There seemed to be no one there except the hotel porters who rushed to every limocoming to the main entrance.

I hung aroundthe hotel for some time, hoping to get more information about M.J. I was sure the porters knew something about the time of his arrival. So I approached one of them, talked with him, and he gave me some tips on how to take pictures of my hero.

It turned out that M.J. was only coming to the hotel at about 7 p.m. so I had more than eight hours to wait. As I couldn’t trust the information, I decided to stick around. Strangely enough, I was not tired. Just the opposite, in fact: I felt better and better with every passing hour. Around 4 p.m. people began to gather near the hotel. The crowd was growing very quickly. I was upset ‘cosall the people were gonna killmy chances of taking good pictures. My hope and enthusiasm were vanishing as the crowd of fans grew.

By 6:30 p.m. hundreds of people were crammedinto the space in front of the hotel. I climbed up a tree to get a better view. My gut feelingtold me that something was not right. I suddenly realized that M.J. would not even be able to reach the main entrance, not to mention getting inside. The thought gave me a real fright. Maybe the info about his staying at the Kempinski was bullshit. Maybe he was going to stay at some other place. Beads of sticky sweat streaked down my spine. I thought I was going to faint.

At that very moment a wave of movement rushed through the crowd. Everybody looked in the direction of the left wing of the hotel. Two black luxury limousines were coming through the crowd. I got out my camera, ready to take pictures of my idol, but the cars did not go to the main entrance. Instead, they drove towards the side doors of the hotel and stopped within several feet of the entrance there.

Two huge bodyguards got out of one of the limos and made a kind of passage for M.J. After a few seconds a third bodyguard opened the hotel doors. And then the famous face, with the sunglasses and the wide-brim hat stepped quickly out of the limo and walked to the open doors of the hotel. Thank God I was in the tree and able to see everything.

I was so fascinated by the sight of Michael that I forgot about my camera. When I remembered why I had come, the doors of the hotel had already shut.

For some reason, the crowd stayed. Now everybody was looking up at the windows on the third floor. Somehow, the crowd knew that Michael Jackson’s suitelooked out onto the square in front of the hotel. Those who had been unlucky like me were now waiting for M.J. to look out the windows of his suite.

I didn’t believe that Michael was going to show his face. But miracles do happen. After ten or fifteen minutes, Michael’s face appeared. Then he waved his hand and disappeared inside his suite. A few minutes later, a little kid looked out of the same window. Then Michael appeared again. This time he was holding a piece of paper in his hands. On the paper there were three words: ‘I LOVE YOU’. The crowd roaredwith excitement. Michael folded up the paper and threw it down into the crowd.

I didn’t expect Hungarians to be so crazy about M.J. The crowd convergedround the spot where the paper had landed. There were screams and shouts as people fought over the precious souvenir. This time I managed to take a few pictures of Michael looking out of the window. I still have those pictures in a special album.

Looking back on those crazy days I feel kind of nostalgic. Since that time I have seen a lot of different stars, but I’ve never felt such awe and excitement as when I saw Michael.

feel dizzyчувствовать головокружение

pinrupsплакаты

catch one’s eyeпривлечь чьё-то внимание

at all costsлюбой ценой

cover здесь освещать в СМИ

give upотказываться

infoинформация

pedesrian zoneпешеходная зона

backpackрюкзак

popгазированная вода

come in handyпригодиться

limoлимузин

hang aroundбродить