Station Cemetery of dead ideas! The inhabitants of the Earth of the Dead are local "residents" of cemeteries.

Josef Winker.

Cemetery of bitter oranges

On the balcony, you showed me a Persian penalty, covered with lacquer painting the color of the blood of blood with gold. He was hurt empty. I wanted to smell his honorable chipped walls, which served as Sardarka justice and instant compilation of sentences to sparkle eyes.

Osip Mandelstam. "Journey to Armenia"

Looking at this small, dressed in a white body, no one will think; "This is my son. This is my brother". "If your thoughts had a body, they would have started to work, would cut firewood, raking the hay, cut the cattle, urinate, consider money, right at the coffin of this little dead, whom you were brought up for your life."

Pierre Paolo Pasolini. "Nightingale of the Catholic Church"

Fourteen-year-old Pino Lo Scrudato, a new father in June 1988 in Caltanisette, which in Sicily, when he, instead of looking after ten cows on their distant peasant farm, where there was no electricity, nor water supply, connected the TV to the tractor battery and watched Football Match Italy - Ireland. And also Pope John XXIII.

From the family album grandmother Josef Winkler

At the top of Monticello, one of the rome hills, where Piazza Della Navichella was spread out, to the left of the high ruins of the Aqueduka Emperor Claudia, the street of Santo Stefano Rotondo takes his beginning. She leads to Esplanade in front of the Church of Santo Stefano-Rotondo, one of the oldest Italian churches, which was constructed, probably in the fifth century and is consecrated by dad sylopcy. The walls of the church are decorated with thirty-four frescoes of the work of Poma Rancho, Tempes and other artists, which depict Christian martyrs. One of the unfortunate clamped between two stone blocks and crushed them. Molim you, Lord, hear us! Take the enemies of the Holy Communion! Another martyr chopped off the brush of the hands and, tied by their rope, hung on the neck. Holy Maria! The virgin lily of the chastity, Queen of the Angels of Heaven! Pray you, hear us! You, suffering from sacrifice my son! Blood souls merges with that blood that you were shed for us, and your suffering is the key to our future holiness. The third Christian is broken into pieces of mad psy. Pray you, Father, hear us! Rapid souls to true faith! I pray you, yours then bloody, spilled in Garden Hepsiman, save them from hellish bake, which they expect with trepidation. Another one was put in the coffin and flooded with molten lead. Pray you, hear us! Update us with love for the chastity. Blood spilled to you under cruel scams, will open them the way to the kingdom of heaven, so that they are either more stronger.

Withdrawn on the punch, the poor fellow cut off the skin with wide stripes. Sweet us! You, bloody then from the fear of Jesus. Another unfortunate on a wooden deck cut off his right hand. Sweet us! This two-minded forks of the spells ruthlessly chest. I pray you with precious blood speaking from the pore of your skin, in unheard of rage, pierced by spikes. Another keeps his head in the Episcopian Tiara in his hands. Molim you, Lord, hear us! Emerging damned heretics! Look at this poorness ~ with sharp iron pods used the skin on the whole body. Save them, about Jesus! With its nagging and disgrace, scam and rogging, their cross and nails. I pray you with the nagging of yours, disgraining yours, the blood, which is spilled from wounds. But others, dropped in burning pits, wheeled, torn by ferocious bears, buried alive. Stone scored and quartered. Lord, nice them! And this one is roasted alive in hot oil. Save him, about Jesus! The covenant of the painful flesh of your father with your father, your blood scarlet. Suffering, on the cross to you adopted, and beating beaches, let them, pray you, see your face. One more sliced \u200b\u200bchest. Holy Maria! You are a goddess from ivory, queen of martyrs, pray for us! And this torn bulls. Save him, Lord! And so stunned into the pit, filled with hissing snakes. Save him, Lord! I pray you, Sukrovitsa and the blood of your child, expired from wounds, spread the flame, devouring the soul of people, the blood of you for them is spilled.

Give the wax of the clock candle to drag on my navel so that it sealed my mindless body. The image, which hung over my mortal lie, - Madonna Sulla Seggiola - Madonna on the throne of Rafael - put on my outdoor coffin so that you come to say goodbye to me, praying and rushing around my coffin, as you would like the views on my dead face. The needles that will be sewing my savan, colitis are cold to the blue heel so that it is difficult for me to be confused, turning to the vampire, back to the house, to children and grandchildren in a long rustic street. If I really come back home, do not be afraid and compart from me a sharp shovel from the body and put her between the legs. Collect the blood flowing out of it in a glass and drink it without a balance, because this is my blood, which I shed for you, and who comes to my flesh and drinks my blood, will be in me, and I will be in him. Oh Jesus, humbly in Jerusalem invented, nice us! About the suffering about Jerusalem Jesus, nice us! Oh you who are soaped your pupils, Jesus, nice us! Bread, giving, supporting us, Jesus, have mercy! Do not forget to decorate fresh, sprinkled dewy by daisy, my mortal stretches, on which my Break remains will carry from the room, where I died, on the stairs to seventeen steps in the village community and there will be put in the coffin; And then, when my corpse is lying in a wooden box, an inhabit of black crepe, write on mortal stretches my name and date of birth and death and put them as a pavement through the stream, in the thickets of Moss and Kaluzhnitsa. When you are from time to time, you will pass through this pavement to narrow snowdrops, anemone or Kaluzhnitsy flowers, and your mother will fall or sit down on the grass, crossed legs be careful, so as not to step on cross-cuts cut on my mortal stretchers. Thus, you can cause the pain of my poor soul, and I, or ascended by the sky, either being in purgatory, folding his legs and hands, like a germ in the maternal womb, toastful cry of pain, which will be heard under the clouds and in airplanes and swell from the ocean to the ocean. Oh, Jesus, His Blood, Holy, Giving us a mustard, nice us! Oh you, for thirty Srebrenikov sold Jesus, nice us! Oh you, in a suicide prayer to your father who crushed his own, Jesus, nice us! Oh you, in the garden Hephsymane from fear, then bloody proceeding Jesus, humbly We / If even put on the face of my more than a meter of fatty cemetery land, I still will be afraid of the raffs, with small lights on the neck, a lot of nights in a row crawling in my hill to tell me: Goodbye! Oh you, angel engraved Jesus, nice us! Oh, you kiss Juda devotee Jesus, nice us! About you, chains and ropes Knitted Jesus, nice us! Oh you, students with their left Jesus, nice us! Ryget, which is usually the sem of rustic children, hit three times in my coffin, so that the leaves and flowers scatter in all directions to refuse my soul living in them. So that my dead body makes it easier to carry and so anywhere under those who will carry the coffin, the rural land is thickly mixed with pony petals. Maybe during the funeral who came to say goodbye to me sit on mourning benches and will take mourning clouds dressed in a black priest. Walking in a black student with a large burning candle will bow the knees to the left of my coffin, others will stand up on the right side and, of course, in their heads, and not in the legs of my mortal remains. Oh you, before, Anna and Kiafa, who appeared Jesus, nice us! Oh you, Jesus, whom they hit the right cheek, nice us! About you, false witnesses accused Jesus, nice us! Oh you, Jesus, from which Peter was abused three times, hunt us! If I die from a heart attack - so my grandmother once died - and my heart and eyes will burst at the same time, imagine that the average has fallen, one of three drops of blood, which is in my head. And if it becomes worse - see, Lord: here is my soul, here is my body. Your hand is imagining them, do with them, anything you. Then check if the feathers were shot in my pillow in wreaths. After all, you know, I often told you about it, such white wreaths of feathers, we called their death crowns, serve as a faithful sulfur sign. Spend a piece of bread in my forehead and throw his courtyard dog. If she eats him - I am still destined to live, and if not - in a few hours I die, because the death sweat is more caustic than the urine that after the death of the owner and the hostess add to the right psam in milk to, when they are descended from the chain , they could jump from the grave, to throw and finally die. Oh you, Pilate in the ulcers sharpened Jesus, nice us! Oh you, false accused Jesus, have mercy with us! Oh you, in the white clothes of your ridicated Jesus, nice us! Oh you, Jesus, who chose the killer Baraev, nice us! Imagine, only yesterday I saw the shadow of a person without a head. Lingerie - was this my savan? - floated up the river. Easy, for three hours in a row, while I, helpless, with an open mouth, breathing hard, lay on his back and heard a heartbeat jumped over the mirror frame and intently losing a bat. Imagine a hole in the church wall. Through her, the devil was inhairs inside, and therefore the village pop along with the parishings was embellished by my skull. The clouds lowered in the bowl with holy water and took them out from there with cord cord. Fireworks fireworks crosses scattered in the sky. Red boiled cancer caught in the river lying on my inverted mortal bed. The steps of the infinite spiral staircase were made of covers. I saw a gross and a thorns on the Episcopian Tiara, put on the baby's head of Jesus. Come to me, do from my heart of my Holy Child, it is clean and no one can enter it, except you, my beloved baby Jesus. My shadow shadow stunned the top of the crucifixion on a long handle in the grave of my early deceased child and threw it three times on a coffin. On the shovel of the gravestone slowly rotated the wrapped grave ground globe. My members sailed through the chimney and, by gathering together, began to dance. They are lying, lying around like stones on the streets. So I fell and me. ABOUT you, vigorous Jesus torque, have mercy! Oh you, in a mockery in royal clothes, closed Jesus, nice us! Oh you, in the ulcers sharpened Jesus, nice us! Oh, thorn crowned Jesus, nice us! Do not forget that the bony from time to time can contact the bloodstream bat. Keep my members fighting in agony, close the room window, otherwise the glasses will break. Residents of the village should not take a list of funerals who came to the funeral with bare hands, but only putting on the mittens. Then, reading it, let him throw it into the fire. I am transferring a sheet to fresh air, on which I slept alive, but on which I was not dead on the dead, and see whether a flock of owls falls over a cross. Only then, you can throw a sheet into a rustic well, and to wash off the nauseous body smell, wash it with a piece of turpentine soap, which shows the head of a deer. To get rid of the body odor, go around the entire house with a consecrated palm branch in your hands, but first go to the room where I died, as well as in the room where my body was exhibited. Oh you, unclean saliva Jesus, nice us! Oh you, a reed stick beaten Jesus, nice us! Oh you, innocently to death sentenced Jesus, nice us! Oh you, deliberately issued by Jews Jesus, have mercy with us! If you ever have to appear before the court as an accused, assign in a handkerchief that my body was washed. It will confuse the judge, and he will remove the accusation. From the floor of the joiner's workshop, collect a sawdust from the coffin of mine, or, as we called them, angel curls, put them in the coffin to my legs. Do not go to the store of ritual services, and order the coffin of the joiner. On Good Friday, in the cemetery launched from the sawdust of my coffin. And let them come from each yard and take out of that fire on the burning head, to keep the plate at home. Tell Peter Obermann, who will make my coffin, so that, if possible, it would not make a bee hives at the same time. Of course, you know that the bee honeycombs are like small coffins. Hardworking bees will fly to my barrage remains and will swallow right above my grave. But they should not be touched by nectar with white and red flowers growing on my gravestone hill, because I myself have to cling to your head for their roots, chew them and eat them. Oh you, the grievous burden of the Cross who carried Jesus, nice us! Oh you, the suffering Mother rest undersressed Jesus, nice us! Oh you, like a lamb to the camp of the given Jesus, have mercy! Oh, Jesus, from which on the mountain of Calvarian, rushed clothes, nice us! T. The pillow, which you put in the coffin, a few days before my death, have a wet from the dew of the earth from the place where the gaze is buried. It would be great if my head was lying on this pillow, which would have made a lot of grass bundles. Of course, I would like the pillow to put on me in the coffin, was filled with land from Jerusalem, but I do not dare to ask you in those few days that stayed to my care, sit on a plane and mourning ribbons on your arms and legs and Jute bag go to the holy land. Do not forget that the priest and servants in black clothes should sprinkle holy water and lay incense my coffin so that when it is put on my body, he was clean, like Virgin Mary. Let a pair of droplets of Ladan fall into my coffin and even if you read the "Virgin Devo, please, the Lord with you, blessed you between the wives, blessed and the flesh of your whven of your Jesus." To avoid rapid decomposition and so that hungry moles and rats do not abundance, my nose, I, devoured my eyelids, I put a handkerchief on my face, moistened in the water that my body was washed. Imagine me lying with open eyes and stared at the ceiling of the village community during the farewell ceremony, and then the coffin lid sliding back and forth, which is decorated with rotting forked angelic languages. Again and again, the whole of eternity is loudly listed by all my sins, about which I could not whom to whisper the confessor, as it was separated from it a tin leaf with holes in the form of crosses. Oh you, legs and hands to the cross nailed Jesus, nice us! Oh you, for your enemies on the cross praying Jesus, nice us! Oh you, Jews on the Cross, Smemonated Jesus, have mercy! Oh, the robber on the cross is displaced Jesus, nice us! During the three-day ridge over the dead, put on my chest a piece of turf from a cattle boring on a hill, and then again take it and put it, where he was taken. If you come about my death and appeal to the angels and hell with a high hand up with your hands, then do not talk to the bottomless sky with your fingers, but put on the mitten, otherwise you like your eyes the guardian angel, and he will not see how you, one-diet , with a basket, full of posthumous masks, stepping on the bridge without a mobile. Remember that the stream is boil under your bare feet. If you want not to be afraid of a drunken man, when he threatens you with a bloody sickle and the evaporator of the earth, then pulling a rusty nail out of my coffin and, having traced for his enemy, wrapped off from his legs when he started at his field. If, during his lifetime, he will hear the creaking in the bones, it will feel a crunch in the joints and soul. If you have a tooth tooth, smooth the nail from my coffin of a sick tooth until it becomes bleeded, and then the grandfather rule for the brainsticks a bloody nail into an apricot tree near the stable. When will my stainless remains - the word "corpse" I say reluctantly because it is not so beautiful as "My Broken Rests" or, the most appropriate, noble word "dead body", - So, when my brand remains accompanied by mourning Escort will be taken out, go to the stall and wake all animals. All the cattle must stand to adequately say goodbye to me. Onga and the glory - two of my favorite horses, to cross the ongo star - a white stain on her forehead. While four people will endure a coffin with my body from home, it is necessary that one of the services destroyed in purple clothing focusing incense all the home, Igel Gandl, Zepple, Peter, Mitz, Voeu, Muatu, maids and workers. Cold meat, smeared with honey, should be enough for everyone who came to commemorate, especially for the plasters, for all those who carry the coffin and mourning, lanterns, for the priest, as well as two treated in black service. The ceremony makester will have to make sure that in a mourning procession, the breeches are not formed, otherwise someone from the villagers will soon die, since this gap is a place for a coffin. Oh you, who repented on the cross of the robber paradise promising Jesus, nice us! Oh you, Jesus, on the cross the care of his mother who entrusted to John, hind us! Oh you, on the cross recognized by the left of his father Jesus, have mercy with us! Check, whether the horses were not tired, who dragged the cart with my coffin on the hill, and then, along the blooming cherry alley, in the cemetery. Mattle crosses put on the hooves of horses hot peasants in the hooves of horses. If white oxes will not be scored by that time and sold, you can hide instead of horses in my funeral drows of the oxen, only a selection so that the Kucher does not steal them if they stop somewhere on the road to the cemetery. Especially pay attention if they stop at the intersection! Camero with a black crepe on a hat can not be kept in his hands the usual whip, but only an accusation of a black rod, taken from a hasty bush, growing on the church yard. Drinking water from the rut from my funeral drog, thinking about your sufferings, and you will be healed. Oh you, Jesus, who was brought to the lips on the cross and bile, nice us! Oh, your death is not a cross, all the redeemed Jesus, nice us! Oh you, on the congestion belonging to Jesus, nice us! Oh you, until the death of the Cross, humble Jesus, have mercy on us! Instead of decorated with christmas candles, put the faded lantern on my coffin, but for the sake of God, see carefully so that he does not overturn and Kerosene did not bloom and my coffin would not catch up. Imagine how the hard crepe cracks, and white oxes are scared, rushing with burning trades until my burning coffin will lose; My burning body will ride in the ridges and stuck, stuck on the garden scarecrow, the languages \u200b\u200bof fire, like my burning dead tongue, will start licking the rags frightened, because they say that the fire - languages, aren't it? - And my body and scarecrow, we will become one bunch of ash in the middle of the field. The final funeral procession should loudly and clearly knock on bare heels on the goal of the cemetery to death - do not forget that death is a living dead man - remained at the gate. Quickly throw out the numerous thorns crowns in front of the cemetery gates to bony, and she walks barefoot, he could not return for someone from those who came to the funeral. Oh you, on the cross, His Spirit His Spirit His Jesus in the hands of his father, nice us! Oh, Jesus, the heart of which on the cross was open to the spear, nice us! A small child who grew up so much that it could look because of the calf's head, it will have to carry a candle with my height and, naturally, with a black wick head, during the funeral procession. At the same time, do not forget to put it next to the bouquet of flowers to me in the grave, so that I could from time to time dark nights when the heavy earth of my grave hill is already falling, to light up this candle and find the remains of the clouds in church basements. With crumbs of clouds on violet lips, I will return to myself and put my head on the pillow, which may be naked with land from Jerusalem. Oh you, from the cross filmed and kneel the mother to his laid Jesus, nice us! Oh you, until the last hour about your mother baked Jesus, nice us! Oh you, in a sovereign jesus, nice us! Oh you, fathers from hell saved Jesus, nice us! Do not forget to hang on the day of all saints to hang on the grave stones of the crucifixion and the memorial pretzel, because at night they will come beggars and they will take them. To my bloody, then an outgoing grave stone with chicken eggs filled with holy water, and let them hang there thirty days and thirty nights. Dripping from them the water should rejuvenate the hellish flame.

Real estate - solid architectural monuments, quiet streets - in granite tiles, neighbors - millionaires, star and sports stars, artists, sculptors and presidents. But this place is not for a measured and quiet life, but just the opposite - it's about the "city of the dead" in the capital of Argentina Buenos Aires. Recolet is one of the most beautiful and well-known cemeteries of the world and a monument of architecture protected by the state and UNESCO. This is a current necropolis, and a popular tourist route at the same time.

Maxim Lemos, Professional operator and director, classified, probably, all countries of Latin America and now working guide and travel organizer. On its site, he posted a detailed description of the recruit cemeteries and interesting stories related to this place.

Recolet does not look like a cemetery, in the usual understanding for us. Rather, it is a small town, with narrow and wide alleys, majestic smoke houses (their here more than 6400), incredible beauty by chapels and sculptures. This is one of the most aristocratic and old cemeteries, which can be put in one row with the famous "Monumental de Steel" in Genoa and "Per Lashhez" in Paris.

- Funeral traditions of South America wild and creepy, - Maxim starts "excursion". - Deadly bury in a good coffin in a normal beautiful crypt. But if it is a poor people, then they bury him there are not forever, because for the rental of a beautiful crypt you need to pay. Therefore, after 3-4 dead, they usually reboot. Why 3-4? In order for the corpse to have to decompose enough in order for it to be placed more compact, now on a really eternal refuge. It looks like this. 3 years after the first funeral on the cemetery, the cakes are gather, relatives of the deceased. Cemetery officers are pulled out from the coffin cryp. Then they open it and under the sobs of relatives "Mom-Mom ..." or "Grandma-grandmother", shift in pieces of a semi-pressed corpse from a beautiful coffin in a black plastic bag. The bag solemnly refers to another part of the cemetery, and stuffed into one of the small holes in a large wall. Further the hole is meditated, and the plate is glued. When I learned about it, the hair on his head moved.

The crypts are quite tight to each other, so the cemetery area is completely small.

Here is a console from the helicopter. It can be seen that it is in the middle of a large residential area. Moreover, the area in front of the cemetery is the center of life of this area, there are many restaurants, bars.

The cemetery is active, so right at the entrance at the ready cartridges for the transportation of coffins. Upstairs, above the main goal, the bell. They call him when they bury a person.

In 1910-1930, Argentina was one of the richest countries in the world. And during these times between the Argentine venue, there was a unlawful competition, who will build a luxurious crypt for his family. The Argentine capitalists did not regret the money, the best European architects were hired, the most expensive materials were taken from Europe. It was in those years that the cemetery acquired such a species.

He tried who could. For example, here is a crypt in the form of a Roman column.

And this one is in the form of a marine grotto.

Of course, the question comes itself, but what's the smell? After all, if you look at, in each smoke, the coffins are standing, the door of the crypts - forged lattices with a glass or without it ... there must be smell! In fact, of course, there is no corpse smell on the cemetery. The secret in the coffin device is made of metal and hermetically sealed. And the tree he will simply be covered outside.

Those coffins that are visible in the scleps are only the top of the iceberg. The main is in the basement. It is usually a small ladder. Let's look at one of the cellars under this crypt. Here only one basement floor is visible, there is another one under it, and sometimes there are three floors down. Thus, in these crypts lie entire generations. And there are still a lot there are there.

Each crypt belongs to a specific family. And usually, on the crypt, it is not customary to write the names of those who are buried there. They write only the name of the head of the family, for example: Julian Garcia and family. No dates are usually not written, you are not accepted.

That's how you can come with one feather, you can visit not only grandparents, but also right and even the grandeur ... But the Argentines are very rarely visited by cemeteries. The entire mission of the installation of flower, care, cleaning and maintaining the crypts is given to the ministers of the cemetery. The owners just pay them for this money.

There are crypts at all without any information. Ida, and that's it! What is Ida, what is Ida? For a couple of years I went under the go and did not know about its existence, until one tourist noticed her, accidentally raising his head.

Skull and crossed bones on the scleps are quite common. This does not mean that the pirate is resting here, and this is not someone's inappropriate joke. This is Catholicism. Religion dictates them to decorate the crypts.

By the way, here's another mystery of this cemetery: web and, accordingly, spiders here have a huge amount (look at least in the photo). But there is no flies! What are the spiders eat?

According to this cemetery, special excursions are carried out in Spanish. And the guides of the guides are told to become this cemetery: not boring and scientific, but exciting and fascinating - like Latin American series. For example: "... This rich senory quarreled with his wife and did not speak 30 years old. Therefore, the gravestone monument was set with humor. In the gorgeous sculptural composition, they sit together with their backs ... "

Maxim Lemos also has truthful stories about some guests of this cemetery.

For example, one 19-year-old girl was buried in a family crypt. But after a while, visitors seemed to be unbearable sounds from the bowel. It was not clear, there are sounds from the crypt or somewhere else. For any firefighters notified relatives, and it was decided to open the coffin with a girl.

Opened and found it dead, but in an unnatural position, and the coffin cover was broken, and under her nails there was a tree. It turned out that the girl was buried alive. And then the parents of the girl were commanded to set the girl a monument in the form of her leaving the crypt. And in the cemetery since then began to use the method for such cases in those days in Europe. To the hand of the corpse tied the rope that led the outside and fastened to the bell tile. To impose everyone that he is alive.

But this crypt is also noteworthy. It is buried here by young Argentica, the daughter of very rich parents of Italian origin. She died during her honeymoon. Hotel in Austria, where she stopped with her husband, covered avalanche. She was 26 years old, and it happened in 1970. And the parents of Liliana (so called the girl) ordered this luxury crypt in the Gothic style. In those days and buy land, and building new scleps was still possible. At the foot in Italian, the verse of the father dedicated to the death of his daughter. In it all the time repeats "Why?". A few years later, when the monument was already ready, the girl's favorite dog died. And she was also buried in this crypt, and the sculptor added a dog to the girl.

Guides, who need to take their public with something, began to tell that if a dog's nose is lost, luck will overtake you. People believe and clutch ...

The body of the husband was not found in the Austrian hotel. And since then, the same man appears in the cemetery, which regularly, for many years, brings flowers to Liliana's grave ...

And this is the highest crypt in the cemetery. And his owners managed to pay all not only in height, but also by the sense of humor, together on this crypt, two incompatible religious symbols: the Jewish seedswie and the Christian cross.

But this is the second largest and first at the cost of the crypt. It was made of the most expensive materials. Suffice it to say that the roof of the dome from the inside is lined with a real gold. The crypt is huge, and even more its underground rooms.

Federico Leluar, Argentinean Nobel laureate on biochemistry here is buried. He died in 1987. But such a luxurious crypt was built not on the Nobel Prize (her scientist I spent on research), and it was built a lot before. Yes, and in general he lived extremely modestly. Crypt This family, Federico had rich relatives engaged in the insurance business.

Several Argentine presidents are buried here. Here is the president of Kintana, depicted in a lying form.

And this is another president, Julio Argentino Rock. With just 50 years before Hitler, he announced without extra sublimation that it was necessary to free the southern lands and to attach them to Argentina. "Release" meant to destroy all local Indians. It was fulfilled. The Indians were destroyed, some of them were transported to Central Argentina as slaves, and their land, Patagonia, joined Argentina. Since then, rock has become a national hero and is considered to them to our times. There are streets of his name, portraits are printed on the most popular, 100-song bills. The times were such, and what is now called genocide, racism and nazism, another year ago there was a norm of life.

Some scleps in a very abandoned state. For example, if all relatives died. But pick up the crypt anyway Cannot: Private property. It is also impossible to destroy or touch. But when it becomes clear that the hosts of the crypt will not be announced (for example, if it stands in an overhexlike age of 15), the cemetery administration is in love with such screens as warehouses for building materials and other inventory.

In one of the places of the cemetery, the caretakers staged a small household economy.

Among the crypts, the toilet modestly was modestly.

The cemetery is famous for its cats.

In our culture, it is accepted at the funeral to bring plastic wreaths with inscriptions "from friends", "from colleagues." Then a few days later, these wreaths are brought to a landfill. It is impractical! Therefore, in Argentina, wreaths make iron and weld to the crypt forever. Everyone can celebrate a friend's grave. And if a person was important, then iron wreaths and memorable plates on his crypt a lot.

All scleps in the graveyard are private. And the hosts can dispose of how they are pleased. Can be buried there and friends. Can pass or even sell. Prices for crypts on this cemetery begins from 50 thousand dollars for the most modest and can reach 300-500 thousand for more respectable. That is, prices are comparable to apartments in Buenos Aires: there are 2-3-room costs from 50-200 thousand dollars and up to 500 thousand in the most prestigious area. For example, here - the crypt is sold.

Until 2003, on the recoller, it was still possible to purchase land and build a new crypt. Since 2003, the cemetery has become a monument of architecture not only Argentinean, but also of world importance. Here, not only any construction is prohibited, it is forbidden to also modify or rebuild ready-made scleps. One can only restore the old, and then after the mass of permissions and solely with the aim of giving the initial appearance.

Some scleps and tombstones are restored. For example, this one. True, this is done with the Argentine working rhythm, there is a suggestion, there are no restorers for 2 months.

The recruit area itself is very prestigious. And the inhabitants of these houses (across the road from the cemetery) do not really strain that their windows overlook the cemetery. On the contrary, people consider themselves chosen by fate - well, how, live in a console!

However, Maxim Lemox himself believes that the recruit is "a monument to wild, unusual for us to funeral traditions and a competition of inappropriate Ponte:" Who is cooler and richer "and" who has gone marble more, the tombstone is higher, and the monument is exclusive and more. "

This place is far away on the outskirts of the city, big, like the capital, but the same small at the same time, which sometimes seems even strange and becomes terribly.
Imagine a terrain full of gone to the psyche of inexplicable phenomena ...
The road to the dead cemetery runs through a narrow alley into a meter wide, the walls of which are a red brick fence, increasing two private areas with huge houses. The height of the fence exceeds two and a half meters. This corridor in the unknown world, full of fear and despair, seems so long that stepped on it no longer hoping to find a way out ...
And so, having passed on this tap, which can be called a corridor of time, about forty-fifty meters, an adhesive arch with a bizarre pattern, resembling a bias plant, framing the cross of medieval times. Here she is the door to a completely different world. In place where there is no dangers and trouble. There are only grief and sadness torrenting live souls. The cemetery, which has long been abandoned by residents of this beautiful city, lies around the arch. The sun rarely reflects on dilapidated grave stoves. It seems there was no soul for many decades.
The cemetery itself of the dead half challenged the rosehip. The vegetation in this place is extremely magnificent. As if Mother Earth, thus, hesitates the wandering souls of this cemetery. Residents have repeatedly rummed about mysterious ghosts, "appearing from nowhere and go away." These are rumors. And only a little is given the opportunity to see the spirits - the keepers of the dead cemetery. But those who have seen them begin to change their lives, surroundings, work ... apparently, they understand how important it is sometimes looking back. See your mistakes. Errors of other people. And they understand everything. They suddenly learn about those things that prevented living ... and all this merit in luck comes from this very cemetery.
So what, in fact, is the peculiarity of this place?
The cemetery of the dead in the literal sense of the word affects people, on their psyche. It leaves a deep mark in souls, like on a tree bark from a knife. Such who is unlikely to restore himself ...
Once visited here, a person becomes completely different. And only the winds decided to come to the dead cemetery for the second time to honor the souls resting in the graves with the most diverse tombstones, a bouquet of fresh fragrant flowers ... What was afraid of the rest? Change. They even frightened the idea that their lives could change large again. They were afraid to lose what they purchased. Therefore, grateful to defenders of the cemetery, people simply continued to live.
The description of the cemetery itself is difficult, as nothing else. Large, just a huge number of graves, overgrown with lush emerald leaves so much that it is not possible to read a single letter on the tombstones. Marble plates of various shades, crosses of the most unusual forms and species ... All this admired, blinded and ... healed. The atmosphere of mystery, reigning around, laid a strange sense of hope in the heart. The simplest exits come to mind from situations, before being considered hopeless ...
And the shadows falling from trees and mysteriously playing on the graves, created a mystical mood. Perhaps these shadows were the same ghosts. Who knows?
The graves ... Apparently, more than once someone decided to try happiness in search of "treasure hidden in coffins." Dugged graves, inspiring fear, reminded the horror films about the revived dead. Someone even visible human bones, naked on black crude ground. Terribly? Yes. Of course. But this mysticism, the feeling of the past time in the present, involuntarily makes thinking about the future ...
If you focus on the presidency of the cemetery ... Well, the dates on the graves are quite early ... There are dates of the XII century, which indicates the opening of the cemetery somewhere in 1100.
The last grave plate looks pretty neat. It seems that they care for her. The inscription, informs about the short-term life of the child, the end of which occurred in 1995. The grave is decorated with fresh flowers. With the tombstone in the form of an incorrect trapezion, sometimes someone erases dust and fallen from trees leaves. The faded, once golden, the cross of the right form corresponding to the Christian traditions, still continues to brightly sparkle on the dim light of the sun, giving it warm and caressing his author. It is immediately clear that the creator of this beauty is a relative of the child, apparently, the most deeply confused person about him ...
And so, the end of the cemetery of the dead ... It is exactly the opposite to the entrance to this forgotten world appears a delightful look. The endless field, gluing, and barely visible mountain ranges stretched along the horizon line and dissolving in a gloomy, cloud and strangely attractive sky ...
Here he is a real middle world. Between the past and the future. Between fear and freedom. Between death and a new life ...

If in a dream you ended up in a cemetery and sit on a bench - this is a favorable sign, you will trust the responsible business. Walking around the cemetery - it became, in reality you get this thing. If events in a dream occur in winter - the situation will be aggravated by the departure of her husband, a friend or beloved, which could help a delivered advice or a specific business. Summer cemetery foreshadows full success and celebration on this occasion.

The old cemetery means that your chagrin will be premature and everything will turn to the better. A modern cemetery means the ungratefulness of children who will not help you in old age, throwing care of you on your shoulders of completely strangers.

For the young in love with a dream in which she sees himself in a cemetery along with his friend, means sincere love on his part, but your delined indifference will lead to what the possible and close happiness melts as smoke. To see himself in the cemetery alone foreshadows the opportunity to marry and burning regret about the deed.

If a young woman is preparing to marry, and in a dream it sees that her wedding procession goes among the graves - such a dream predicts the death of her future husband as a result of an accident. If at the same time it places on the graves of flowers - this means for many years of prosperous healthy and spouses.

If someone gained the status of the widow recently, and in a dream he visited the grave of her husband - it means that the revenge on this particular will marry the secondary.

Talk in a dream with her husband lying in the grave - health, success in affairs and long life is waiting ahead of her and her new chosen one. If the husband in his conversation expresses discontent or condemnation - new concerns are waiting for it.

For the elderly, see a dream associated with the cemetery, foreshadows a quiet and peaceful care to the world of others, but not earlier than a period necessary to complete all the intended important cases.

To see fresh graves in the cemetery means that the dishonorous act will cause you heavy flour. To see the woven graves in the cemetery foreshadows troubles and illness. Looking into an empty grave - to the loss of loved ones.

If, walking in a dream in a cemetery, you find the grave with your last name, the name and patronymic - this is a sign of danger you, bad news, loss of friends and loss of your loved one.

The dream in which you see in the cemetery of funny children, foreshadows favorable changes and a long happy life. To see tremendous monuments leaving in the cemetery - to bad changes and unhappy love.

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Funeral rituity has always attracted the attention of researchers. It is enough to refer to the publications of field materials of the last decade to make sure that the excellent safety of funeral rituals in most regions of Russia, as well as in Russian enclaves abroad. The study of funeral rituals is significantly not only "for the reconstruction of some fundamental representations of Slavic paganism,<...> But also for the general theoretical, typological determination of the religious system of Slavs<...>”

Attitude towards the world of death is manifested in Russian tradition through metaphors and phraseological turnover, recorded in ritual practices, can manifest itself in various aspects of gaming culture or children's folklore. It can be implemented through cultural codes. All these aspects are quite thoroughly investigated.

The funeral-memorial complex of rituals can be viewed as a certain ritual dialogue between alive and dead, the zone of active penetration of the two worlds. Like any ritual interaction in traditional culture, contacts between the world of living and the world of the dead are strictly regulated by a number of prohibitions and prescriptions designed to protect themselves from the dead. In traditional culture, the cemetery is not only the burial place of the dead. This is the place of stay of the souls of the dead, their house3. Indeed, in the beliefs the cemetery is most often considered as a settlement of the dead: "We live in the village, we are alive in the village, and as a spine - will be demolished in a cemetery, there will be our inhabitant to the vessel. There, it means that the village of the dead. Living in the village live, and the dead in the cemetery. " Accordingly, the grave is perceived as a deceased house: "They have the house of the house there is a grave is their hut, they are there<живут>", Or:" The coffin is a house, we say, because - the houses. Coffin - house for the dead "

The cemetery is opposed to the village as part of mythicized space, that is, as the world of the dead world of living. It is usually considered not far from the village, in the forest or behind the river: "Cemetery in the Listkey was done, always in the Listka, so as not next, and so gone from the village, but to reach." Live to avoid dangerous impacts from the dead must be equipped with a cemetery. He was always applied to the fence, at least nominal, the gate was installed and the gate: "The cemetery is always acquainted, the land is consecrated for the fence, but not. Gate do and now Bero.

The duties of living also include the arrangement of the grave. Mandatory within the framework of the tradition was considered to install the cross and maintaining the shape of the grave hill. Attitude to the installation of the tombstone was different. So, for example, in the Vladimir region, where white limestone is developed, already in the middle of the XIX century it was considered correct to establish a white-named gravestone on the grave with a cross and an inscription, which most often containing the name, dates of life and death of the deceased. Sometimes the inscription was more extensive, with quotes from the Holy Scriptures or poetic inserts, for example:

The dust of the soul is invaluable
Under the village of the abode of the saint.
Hit an hour of the end of the universe
And we will see you with you.

It was considered right to have an inscription from all sides of the stone. It was associated with the ideas that in this case the unclean will not bother the soul of the deceased: "the wound was writing everywhere, here Looking - the whole stone was written. The unclean was afraid - from him the beaks and defended, and the seitant for people write, so that they knew - who lies here. Previously, the servant of God lies, so that no one bothered the soul - they will watch from all sides, and now from the face only - for people. " However, in other regions, it is believed that the monument "Soul attaches", and its installation until the very last time was considered as dangerous for the deceased: "Monuments yes, put. Previously, only a cross, but now a monument. Now - now where they want to put, and the wound is only the head, so as not to the grave, but she stood. Nearby. It seems like the grave noted. "

Previously, the grave did not make it, did not sit on it any plants, believing that "everything is growing on the grave, then the dead of anyone, and how to find out what will delight him." Currently, it is considered the right grave to cut down and decorate the burial place. Garden plants can act as jewelry, most often low, but sometimes it can be plants that have been loved by the dead at life. Especially interesting in this regard is the grave of amateur flowers, where varietal roses or peonies, extraordinary colors of Aquilius, etc. can be planted, etc. Note that the landing of the beloved plant on the grave is the only way to keep the flower: "How many catchments in Peter Maximach had. He selected them specially in colors, and how died, so only those that children were planted on the grave, they just survived, and the rest were crushed. "

It is believed that the dead man takes care of his colors, so you need to leave a watering can, garden tools, etc.: "On the grave if the flowers are planted, then the watering can be put on, and what kind of flowers are I managed. " This rule does not contradict the ban, not to carry out anything from the cemetery to avoid unwanted attires of the dead man: "We had the case, somehow we took the cemetery. Usually she stands there, and here we grabbed her. So, dad pounded so much, so walked all night, I searched for this. We picked up in the morning and attributed to the cemetery, he needs to take care of the flowers. And the summer was roast, and we were drunk. He came for her. " However, artificial flowers are considered the most correct decoration of the grave: "I need to give alive alive, and the dead man is artificial. If such in the house hold, the dead, they say, go to their colors. " The grave is also decorated with multi-colored glasses, sand, brilliant tinsel, etc.

Inside the fence from about 30s. The twentieth century put a table and a shop. The table is needed for a device for a memorial meal when visiting the grave, and the shopkeeper acts as a dialogue with the deceased: "I will come to the grave, I'll sit on a shop, and that's all telling my father, like at home as children. Standing like and you will not speak. It is necessary to sit down. He listens and helps me. "
As can be seen from the above examples, the cemetery is aware of a certain place of contact of the living and the dead.

The contacts provided for by the tradition are strictly regulated. The researchers record a number of rules for the interaction of alive with the dead. As can be seen from the above examples, the rules of the device and the care of the grave, its decoration, etc. are specified, and the main thing is definitely the prescripts associated with the contact between the alive and dead.

First of all, the time of visiting is governed. Many of our informants note that currently this rule is violated: "Everyone shovels in the cemetery, like on the rulk kaku." Meanwhile, in traditional culture, a visit to the cemetery is always associated with a certain time.

The cemetery must be attended by memorial days and holidays related to the ideas about the possibility of entering into contact with the dead. These holidays for Central Russia are the meat sundement, Maslenitsa (primarily forgiveness Sunday), the Verbal Week, within which Lazarevskaya Saturday and Palm Sunday, Fomina Week (and Separately Radunitsa), Ascension, Days of the Trinity Cycle (Semis, Trinity and Spirits Day) and some other days. Our informants believe that at this time the dead are waiting for the arrival of living to note with them a holiday, therefore the dishes are usually brought to the cemetery: "Fomin with the Egg come - Christ with the dead man, and on the butlennaya - Blindom. The rest, he is waiting for who will come to him. "

Coming on the anniversary of death and memorial days, for example, in the parent Saturday, the living brings food related to the memorial meal. So, if the in the memorial table is the main dish is Casta, bring it if Kisel, pancakes, nephess woman, covered cakes, then them: "Here you come on the parent and here's a piece of jelly. Here is a kissel, and here they put him on the grave, it is his pomin, his treat. "

At the same time, there is a strictest ban to come to the cemetery on the birthday of the deceased. It is believed that in the event of a violation of this prescription, the deadman will start coming to alive: "Do not remember the dead on his birthday, they do not go to the cemetery and do not remember at the table - he will begin." It is considered right to go to the cemetery on Sunday, after the church service: "You need to strike the dead, you go from churches, and here you come to anticipate, what they will put it, for me, what a poekethnushka, which is something else. So that it means it was. "

The only Sunday, in which it is impossible to go to the cemetery is Easter, as it is believed that this day the dead is not spent on the cemetery, and in God's throne: "In God's throne, they are Christ, and there is no one in the cemetery." However, during the years of Soviet power, most people went to the cemetery precisely for Easter, as visiting the graves was the only way (often completely unconscious) to express their belonging to faith. A large number of memories were recorded about how many people were gathered at Easter on the cemeteries, that they brought painted eggs on the graves, pieces of kulchi and Easter. Such visits were largely aware of the holiday, but mainly for living: "Earlier, it was not allowed to celebrate Easter. And here people walked on the cemetery, right with a procession, like May Day demonstration, all elegant, all with reclocked, with eggs are red. All so funny, peasants are sacrificed a little bit, just that the songs do not sang. Easter like this was noted. "

With the resumption of church life, priests led an active struggle with a visit to the cemetery for Easter. Now almost everyone knows that the cemetery must be attended to the Radunitsa, and most of our informants go to the cemetery on this day "with the dead and finish," but at the same time they continue to walk on Easter: "Easter holiday is big and the dead and the dead, too, to congratulate them need to".

Most rural priests have ceased to fight against this custom and call upon their parishioners. Do not forget to visit the graves of relatives and Radunitsa: "We have a father, he says that it is not necessary to go for Easter on the cemetery, it is not accepted. But we are so accustomed, we go. He first swore, and now he says that you go, they say, just forget it too. We go to rainbow. This is what Easter says for the dead, and we are not a holiday. So, in the cemetery it is necessary to come - the deceased to admire, they still have eggs with a herrum, we eat to the trinity. " Another mandatory for visiting the cemetery is currently becoming new year. This is especially noticeable by the graves of children and young people, in which the New Year Christmas trees, tinsel, toys appear on the eve of the new year: "There was no way before, and now I look, the Christmas trees began to put on the grave, with toy, children put gifts."

A person must come to the cemetery in the morning, but not at dawn, "and then the dead are still sleeping." It is imperative to go to the gate, since "through the gate only the dead man is brought, if in the gate (you will go) - it means you will soon be lucky."

It is believed that the dead relatives await their relatives, standing at the gate of the cemetery: "That's who died, those of their relatives are waiting for the gate when they will enter the gate. With them to the grave, they go. " It is believed that with the dead can be broken, if you come later and overcome the cemetery fence in the wrong place: "I say to him:" Well, Petka, through the fence, we climb. You will be waiting for you a mammaker, all the eyes looked around, Becotama Petka, Aonerchezogradulusette. It came to the coggery, there is no one there, the gate stands, waiting. " I look, got back, entered through the gate, my mother is waiting for him. "

It should be noted that the main intermediaries between the lives and deceased were children and beggars, that is, those who were allowed to take the messengers left on the graves. It is believed that if a child takes any treat from the grave, then it is "his deadman treated, and the child treat is the Mother of God to please. And where does the dead man take, that's with your rim and treat. No one can take - only kids. He, though died, and the gods act should do. " The second "gods of the act", which the living workers helped to make the dead man, is a gracious thing to be a refinement: "Subscribe to a bog. Here on the grave Pomin leave and here are the beggars. Deadly championship collect. No one will take it to the poor they serve. " Leaving rims, alive in this way provide the dead man with the opportunity to commit greatness. The pool, in turn, to get ahead of living, pray for health, and taking a pomin from the grave - for the rest.
It should be noted that in the traditional culture the cemetery was not only the place of the necessary contacts between the dead and alive, but also a place for community communication of living people. The cemetery was collected if there were to solve problems related to the improvement of the graveyard (repair or construction of the cemetery church or chapel, repair of the fence, care for old graves). All these issues were usually solved next to the church or with a common cross. Currently, the place of such a discussion is located next to the cemetery gates or office of ritual services.

Immediately agreed about digging graves (since until the very last time on the village cemeteries, someone from the deceased grave was forbidden, since it was forbidden that it was forbidden): "If the death of what to say, there is what you need to do is - this is all solved on the cemetery" .

Since living in this situation invaded the territory of the dead, they needed to receive from the dead permit in the form of any sign. Most often, there were wandering lights on a cemetery or a flock of Ravens, sharply wrinkling into the sky: "We have gathered when the fence is gathered, here they came here, but they did not rise, waited that they were allowed to come to the cemetery - we were gathered. And so suddenly, how to wash the crows something, and they sit on themselves, no versa, nor noise - and then trembled. And we realized that you could decide what they went. We were allowed. "

At the same time, the cemetery was also a place of contact of the dead among themselves. The souls of the dead live in the cemetery and retain the habits of living people. They come out of the graves, walk around the cemetery, cause each other visits. In order for the dead could carry out their desires, alive should not create obstacles. So, if the graves are fenced, then the wickets in the fences should not be closed tightly, and in some calendar cycles and should be open at all. In case of violation of this rule, the dead begins to come to alive: to be in dreams, it seems to be worn, and so on: "So I used to do not know that I don't need to cover the rendering, it is necessary to have something. That closed on the wand. I came home and faced, and the dad came to me, I see it clearly and says it: "Well, docha, I locked me. I am not going to smoke with men with men. From me, docha. " And I do not mind. The whole day was joined, and in the evening again. I was frightened to the grandmother ran. She says to me: "Open the Berkar. Locked the Father. " I have already not replayed from then - he did not come more. "

In order for the communication of the dead among themselves to be full, alive should provide the dead things you need. So, the smokers need to be left on the grave tobacco or cigarettes, children - toys or candy, babies - diapers: "Here we had one, and here she began to come. She died pregnant, maybe the month is on the third. And so much time has passed, and she began to come. So I was given, and the child wrap is nothing. And here he put a rattle of her diaper on the grave, and now she stopped walking. "

Sometimes the deceased in the coffin forget to put things you need, and then he is alive and asks to return to him forgotten: "We have an old woman who went with a wand. And now she was poked, and they forgot her to put her key. And here someone came to the cemetery, and she stands like so at the grave and puzzles asking: "Let the keyboard, I can't walk," and so they ran, and she buried this club in the grave, and she didn't seem more " .

Sometimes a person does not recognize that he broke any ban, and then the dead man can become dangerous: come to the house, knock, scare, to send diseases, etc.: "I really don't know what he needs to dig there and now he damaged the grave. And how he was tormented. The deadman went, and pounded, and so he was all outdated. But I did not know that there was a grave, he did something there. And so damaged. Then he said to him. And he corrected everything there. And stopped walking. But he could and die. "

The special group consists of rules of behavior in the cemetery. So, it is impossible to talk loudly on the cemetery, shout, swear, "And then the dead of the ears will hurt and your prayers will not reach God."

It is believed that human prayers, especially related to some requests, it is better to reach God, if they are told on the graves. Then the dead asking God for their relatives. Accordingly, if the dead "hurt the ears," they do not hear the requests of living and cannot pass them out.

It is necessary to follow the purity of the grave, "and then the dead eyes will fall asleep." The memory of I. M. Snegiva about the report of Pushkin, which he did while reading the second chapter of Evgeny Onegin, that "there is a custom of the Troitsky colors in some places to spend the coffins of parents to clean their eyes." Actually, the eyes of the parents were cleaned not only for the Trinity, but also with ordinary, most independent visits to the cemetery. The purpose of this action is to ensure deadly vision in the next world. It is believed that if the deadman does not see in the world, he returns to this world and frightens unrelated relatives with various sounds and his unexpected appearance: "And they launched a grave to him, and so he became not visible. And so he knocks them and scares. They were afraid. And they ran - the grave was caught and he stopped coming. They cleaned her eyes. Do not forget then. "

In a cemetery, you can never talk to the dead man goodbye, and only forgive - in order to avoid early death: "I will soon be the dead person, if you say" goodbye ". The dead is prescribed to call all family holidays. To do this, you need to come to the grave, bow and call the deceased celebration. It is with this that a visit to the graveyard of the bride-orply cemetery, when she calls the parents to her wedding, Kuma with Kuma, if their parents died, and there is some family celebration, etc.

The special situation of communication of the living and the dead is funeral exemptions. Analysis of the texts of funeral exemption shows that living never put a goal to return the dead to their world, and it is constantly emphasized by the "formulas of the impossible". However, the dialogue of living with the dead on the grave is potentially possible. In many kingdoms, immediately, the appearance should be reversed. In the exemptions, not only informs the deceased about his hard life, but also asks the deceased to tell how he lives on that light, asks him to help him and the Council, as she lives next. It should be noted that many informants said that after due to the cemetery and requests to the late to give the Council in a difficult situation, the latter was in the dreams and reported, as necessary in a particular case. So in a certain extent we can talk about bilateral communication.

As can be seen from the above examples, the behavior in the cemetery demanded from living compliance with a number of rules designed to restore the border between the worlds destroyed by the very fact of death, and to protect people from representatives of "other", dangerous peace of death. The behavioral standards that needed to be observed in the cemetery implied certain communicative links between the living and the world of the dead. The violation of the rules did the border between the worlds permeable, and their strict observance was intended to protect against the possible penetration of the dead man into the space belonging to living people - both his relatives and all members of the village society. At the same time, when complying with certain rules, the border between the world of living and the world of the dead could be less durable, and a living person could come into contact with the dead and get the necessary help from them.

From the article of the Volunteer Varvara Evgenievna "Cemetery as a place of meeting of living and dead: the rules governing the relationship between the two worlds in the traditional culture of Central Russia"