A Rural Rapper

I approach a turn to Sloboda. At this point, even the frailest asphalt disappears completely, and ahead of us lie three kilometers of a dirt road. I pass a farm that is living out its last days, bare spring fields and hills until I run into a sign of a settlement. Right behind the sign, I can see a beautiful wicker fence and an old hut. However, the closer I get, the more life I notice around me. Outside the gate, I am greeted by Sergey, the owner of the hut. Although he knew about my visit, he did not waste time – when we met, he was tearing nails out of old floorboards.

– I dismantled the wooden floor in the house, just poured liquid concrete screeds. And as for these boards, I'm going to use them to lay the floor on the second floor – shares Sergey about the work done and his plans.

For the beginning of April, the weather is beautiful, almost summer-like, with the west breeze blowing. Onto the porch of the house comes Radim, the son of Sergey. He is two and a half years old and was born here, in Sloboda, right in this house. Radim does his best to repeat everything after dad. So while Dad is using an iron hammer and a nail hammer along with six-meter longboards, his son is carrying a small plastic saw in his hands and a similar plastic hammer which he uses to knock on a small wooden board.

Soon comes Yulia, Sergey's wife, and Radim's mom. She invites us inside and puts the kettle on the stove.

Half of the house is lived in, and the other one, apparently, is under renovation. I asked the host how his family managed to get here. It turns out that Sergey leaving his job contributed a lot to the decision to move here, as the family had to figure out where to live. The couple saved up a little money, but that wasn't nearly enough to buy an apartment in Minsk. So they had to look for cheaper housing. Besides, the man had always dreamed of living in a wooden house.

Previously, Sergey worked in the circus as an air gymnast and traveled around the world for four years.

– I've seen enough of these enormous cities. In 2015, I came home and went to live in the forest.

Now the house doesn't look anything like when the couple first saw it. The owner has changed everything. He ripped off the wallpaper and cleaned the walls. He poured liquid screeds in one room, and now he is doing the same thing in another. He set up a decent bathroom: a bath, a shower, and a toilet – all by himself. Completely remodeled the veranda, built a well. The hazelwood fence was also built by Sergey. The pit garage is still a work in progress.

– Как-то я познакомился с человеком, у которого есть косилка для кошения камыша, ею заготавливается камыш. И вот он ездил в Европу, работал с камышом там. И я у него увидел камышовый потолок. Мне понравилось. Посмотрел, что у нас тут недалеко растёт камыш. Вышел зимой на озеро с серпом, накосил его и довольно быстро сделал потолок. Потом сделал стены, отделал студию звукозаписи камышом. Оказалось, это очень хороший звукоизолирующий материал. Теперь вот в будущем планирую заниматься камышом в серьёзных масштабах, сделать из увлечения бизнес.

Говорят, Беларусь – край блакітных азёр. А озёра в Беларуси стоят невозделанные.

– I'm a musician and a rap artist, and at the same time, I am my own sound engineer. I started making music as a child. In 2005, when I was 13 years old, my brother and I released our first album with 25 songs on it. From that moment on, I never stop writing songs.

It is very peculiar to observe this combination of rap and country life. After all, most people associate rap with the city outskirts. However, Sergey is not very fond of the city.

– What's life like when living in a city apartment? –- ponders Serey. – You come home from work, have some food, watch TV, spend the night and go back to work.

– Are you going to send Radim to school?

– We don't plan to yet and will try to hold out on homeschooling until the fifth grade. Unless, of course, he says that he wants to go to school. The choice is his to make.

– Can you imagine? To be six years old and say something like this? We won't make him stay – they laugh. – Well, maybe not at six years old, but at eighteen, he can come up with something like that for sure.