When I was growing up© , the original political and ideological reasons for organizing preschools in the USSR were long gone and kindergartens became what they are in the rest of the world – places to drop off children while adults work. Soviet kindergartens had various quality levels – some were owned by money-rich companies with new buildings, nice personnel and good food; others were for everyone else – with cramped quarters, frustrated overworked teachers and always-present smell of burnt milk (the milk was always boiled and if you smelled burnt milk once you’ll never forget it). I was lucky to spend a few years in the former kind of kindergarten, it was very nice and not easy to get into, especially since my parents didn’t work for the company which owned it. I don’t remember much from that time, so this set of photos was a nice reminder what the kindergartens of my childhood looked like, they are taken in 1960 but little has changed when I was attending one in 1975.
Performance dedicated to the International Women's Day
I am pretty sure the girl on the left did something to break my wrist, starting off my streak of bad relationships with women.
©Time Carl Mydans
©Time Carl Mydans
©Time Carl Mydans
Older kids hated mandatory nap-time.©Time Carl Mydans
©Time Carl Mydans
©Time Carl Mydans
©Time Carl Mydans
©Time Carl Mydans
©Time Carl Mydans
©Time Carl Mydans
Karl Marx is overlooking the room where the future of socialism is being molded.©Time Carl Mydans
Way to rock that flowered kerchief! If your shorts were pulled up any higher you would have lost all movement in your arms. Ho, you’re a brave man, posting these!!!
I still wear a babushka at home when nobody is looking
I love the way you sneak a picture of yourself amongst the Life photos. I’m pretty sure I would recognize any of your childhood photos now.
That’s why they caught my eye, they look exactly like mine, although I only have a few.
You were certainly a cute little fellow… what the hell happened?
hard life
Миша, ты ничуть не изменился
и ростом такой же
Hey, no fair!
Donna, after reading this for so long and meeting me in person I was pretty sure you are fluent in Russian.:-) He said that I haven’t changed a bit and I replied that even my height is the same.
Meeting you would certainly not help me learn Russian, since you don’t even have enough accent to notice. I’m relieved to know that you guys weren’t talking dirty in Russian.
I found the washroom photo interesting. Everyone has his or her own towel for hand-washing, eh? No paper towels back in 1960, I guess …
I didn’t catch your photo until I read the comments. You did pretty well in drag back in the day. Have you considered it now? I mean by your own admission you really can’t grow a mustache.
I keed, I keed. We grew up around the same time, but the pictures you post (your own and others) really paint a difference in our experiences tho. Thanks again for sharing with us.
You went to school at the same time as Igor, the little Russian who vomits on the Bill Tammeus Blog several times a day!
These pictures explain why he is so vehement a Militant Atheist.
Thanks!
They are PRICELESS!
First time I met Meesha he was wearing that exact same outfit, only with argyle socks.