👉Communicative area: speaking about different types
of houses in Belarus
1. What type of house do you live in?
2. What other types of houses can you find in the
neighbouring area?
3. Do you think it is more comfortable to live in a block of
flats or a detached house?
Read the text and answer the questions:
1. What kind of house
does Thomas Warner, a British teacher, live in? What houses does
he like most and why?
2. What unexpected problems does Thomas have because he is not accustomed to living in a block of flats?
My worthless opinions about housing in Belarus
By Thomas Warner
I arrived in Belarus at the end of August, and have since learnt many things about the place and its people. I have discovered these truths by exploring the city and by interacting with its inhabitants. But like you, dear reader, I must sometimes return home to rest. So I get on the bus, travel a few stops and at the appropriate moment I get off and walk the short distance to my front door. Perhaps also like you, I live in what is referred to as a “block”. My particular block has nine floors and twelve separate entrances. It (probably) contains hundreds of individual flats, which are (probably) all very similar to the one that I live in. There are two bedrooms, a hall, a bathroom and a kitchen. It is a comfortable and cosy arrangement, and serves my purposes very well. As a result of the concentration of people and of the lessons learnt over centuries of Belarusian winters, the flat is always very warm – to the extent that I often choose to sleep with the window open, even when the outside temperature seems intimidating (to my English eyes, at least).
As I live on the 8th floor, it is necessary for me to use the lift when I leave or return to my flat. For me this is rather novel, as indeed is the experience of living in a flat more generally. Before coming to Minsk, I had lived almost exclusively in houses and used lifts very infrequently. For this reason, I sometimes worry that I am not following the proper lift etiquette on those occasions when I have to share the journey with a stranger. The questions; “Should I start a conversation?” “What should I be looking at?” and “Am I standing too close?” dance around my mind as me and my new companion stand awkwardly in our little box.
From my observations, it seems that most Minskers live in a similar style of accommodation to mine. All over the city there are blocks: tall ones, short ones, pink ones, green ones, ones instrange shapes, blocks that look like they were finished yesterday
and ones that look ancient. And so much construction! In every
direction, Minsk seems to be expanding. I’m told that certain
parts of the city, ones with higher concentrations of blocks, are
known as “sleeping areas”, though it seems to me like a curious
term for these places. I believe that the expression is something
similar to a commuter suburb in English, but referring to them
as “sleeping areas” seems to relegate the importance of some of
the pleasant things in life, like taking one’s children to school
or eating some delicious kasha for breakfast. Perhaps it is a
reflection of the planned nature of Minsk, that there are specific
working and sleeping areas.
There are areas of Minsk however, which are not “planned”
in that sense. I am referring to the charming, colourful little
houses which can be found clustered in small groups all around
the city. I have been told by friends that these houses are rather
more attractive from the outside, than they are from the inside.
They have antiquated heating systems, are difficult to maintain
and are even more difficult to sell at a profit. Nonetheless, I feel
a great sense of comfort on those occasions that I find myself
walking through a patch of these delightful old relics. Blocks
may be necessary to fulfil the city’s housing shortage, and
they’re certainly more economical – but the sight of smoking
chimneys on an old cottage surely does more to warm the heart
on a cold winter’s morning.
Well, reader, its time for me to stop telling you about
housing in your own country, but I do hope I haven’t bored or
annoyed you with anything I’ve written. If for some reason you
are annoyed, you already have some clues about where I live –
I shall expect a visit! It’s not a bad area of the city, there’s a big
Rublyovski and there are beautiful, icicled old houses sitting
harmoniously next to the apartment blocks. I sincerely hope that
even in the future, when the city is covered in these blocks, that
there are still some areas where people can see real houses and
can feel as jolly as I do when I’m strolling past a row of them on
a lazy Sunday afternoon.
