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     Long ago during the stagnation period deputies were appointed according to different parameters. For example, by nationality. It occurred to someone in the Central Committee to have a yukagir deputy to the Supreme Soviet. This nation already at that time was so small that it was a challenge to find its representative who hadn’t ruined himself by drinking among the two hundred yukagirs in the north of Yakutia.

     He had just returned from the army and didn’t have enough time to get used to drinking. And now, in the middle of winter, at the height of the Artic night, I, being young & inexperienced, was sent there to make a report about the life of an exemplary deer-breeder. I provided myself with the “Practika" Super TL camera at the time. The elastic curtain of this wonder of engineering became frozen at 0°C. I could hardly bare -20°C while it turned out to be -49°C outside.
I was dressed into a deer-breeder’s attire over the sheepskin & trousers. Local deer-breeders were rather runty. The fur-lined trousers were too tight for me as well as the overcoat. My deer’s muzzle was tied up to other sledge & a long caravan set off. The locals had breaks every 30 minutes, gathered in circles, pulled up the flaps of the overcoat & extracted bottles of cognac warmed with their bodies. It was too expensive to deliver there any other drinks by plane. Having warmed up we continued our journey across the dark tundra. I didn’t drink to avoid tuberculosis. But on the other hand I felt colder & colder. Soon my fingers wouldn’t clutch at the sledge. On the fourth hour of our trip the locals got really drunk. Breaks became longer, conversations – more emotional. During one break it appeared that the delegate’s brother had been missing. His sledge were there but he had dropped out along the way & had been sleeping somewhere in the snow bare-headed. His cap got caught in his sledge’s crack. The guides started a long discussion about what was to be done.