| U R B A N L E G E N D S |
When Jurii turned four years old, his family moved to a new residence. Address: Budapest, Hungária krt. 78, 1143. It was there that his first true socialisation with the outside world began. Until then, while living upon the hill, all his social experience had revolved solely around the family. To a certain extent, despite residing in the very heart of the city, the family lived as complete recluses… speaking to no one, existing only within their own small, self-contained world, where their mother wrote poetry and painted canvases in oil, and no one disturbed the children. It was a little paradise on earth. But with the move, everything changed.
It must be said at once what this new house represented. It was a large multi-storey complex consisting of two residential buildings — a ten-storey block and a five-storey one — connected by a common courtyard and corridor. And it was precisely from the moment the Kirnev family moved into this building that rumours began to spread that the place was also haunted… as though they had brought their ghost with them. However, this time it was an entirely different spirit: the ghost of a child who left bloody-red imprints of small hands upon the walls of the empty corridors. These marks appeared suddenly, at night, in empty hallways where no one had passed. Many even witnessed these spots appear right before their eyes. They weren't there an hour ago, but now they're suddenly appearing one by one. It sounded truly terrifying.
In reality, it was soon discovered that this “ghost” was none other than Jurii himself. The walls of the corridors were painted with a special pale-yellow paint that, when touched by a sweaty hand, would leave transparent marks which, as the sweat dried, turned into dark crimson stains the following day. Few people touched the walls, but Jurii, being a child with mobility difficulties, constantly steadied himself against them while walking. Because the marks developed gradually, the eerie blood-red handprints only became visible the next day.
Besides this spectral curse, the building carried another, far more serious one. The building had belonged to the trade representation of the Soviet Union, while the land belonged to Hungary. Even long after the collapse of the USSR, more than a quarter of a century later, no one lives there. The bureaucratic nightmare concerning the ownership of the building remains unresolved to this day, a curse hanging over both Russia and Hungary. All these years the building has stood empty, slowly decaying, overgrown with trees and moss from within.
Yet in the 1990s, when the Kirnev family moved there, the complex already carried a peculiar and heavy atmosphere. After the fall of the Soviet regime, a lingering socialist mentality still haunted its corridors. Every entrance was opened with a key under the strict supervision of a commandant who meticulously recorded in a logbook every person who came and went. At the same time, hidden listening devices were regularly discovered in the electrical wiring of nearly every apartment. However, everyone already knew that the Soviet Union no longer existed, and there was no one left to listen. Thus, in some flats lived people who were still convinced that the Soviet Empire might return at any moment, and who feared to speak a single unnecessary word. While right behind the wall, their fellow citizens threw the wildest group orgies to the sound of the dirtiest rave music and drugs.
In the courtyard of that complex, upon the old children’s sandpit, Jurii made his very first friends. It was around this same time that he began to realise he was an outsider.
Firstly, because the entire territory was enclosed by a high fence. Beyond it lay another country — Hungary — where people spoke a completely different language and celebrated different holidays. Inside the fence remained a small, isolated fragment of Russia, where everyone spoke Russian. And young Jurii, standing by the fence, understood with quiet clarity that it was he who was the stranger, that he was the one who was different… not the people living on the other side.
Secondly, even within this enclosed territory, the Kirnev family remained outsiders. For this place belonged to the Russian embassy, consulate, and trade representation, the vast majority of families living there were part of that strict hierarchical system. The Kirnevs, however, belonged to none of it. They were autonomous and self-sufficient. Any attempts by those within the system to draw the Kirnevs into their orbit ended with Zahar Kirnev sending them away in the crudest possible manner. Because of this, within that small community the Kirnev family was regarded as the black sheep… best avoided, lest one tarnish one’s own politically correct reputation.
And thirdly, Jurii was an outsider even within his own family, precisely because of his health problems, as has already been mentioned. Thus, from the earliest years of his life, Jurii knew that he was not merely an outsider, but an outsider three times over.
Speaking of how unlike others he was, it is worth noting that the Kirnev family always stood out visually and aesthetically from all the other families in the area. On one hand, the building housed only families similar in structure to their own — husband, wife, and between one and three children roughly between the ages of three and ten… which made most families appear almost identical. However, even here the Kirnevs differed radically. While the building belonged to no one in particular and people moved in with the clear understanding that their stay was temporary, few saw any point in making improvements. Nadezhda thought differently. Even though their residence was temporary, she immediately began transforming the space, creating maximum aesthetic comfort and beauty. Thus, while in most apartments a single lonely lightbulb hung pathetically from a wire, in the Kirnev home there were majestic chandeliers. And when, walking along the street in the evening, one saw ordinary yellow light glowing behind dirty, smoke-stained curtains in every window, the Kirnev apartment shone with a deep, rich crimson… as if heavy velvet drapes from some aristocratic bordello adorned their windows.
The same was true of their clothing. Nadezhda never dressed herself or her children in ordinary shop-bought garments. She sewed everything herself. And while other families kept ordinary cats, dogs, fish, or occasionally hamsters, the Kirnev family possessed two enormous, exotic parrots — veritable killers — brought back from a trip to Barcelona. They were a male and a female, named Bars and Lona. Both were impressively large, with powerful claws and beaks, and possessed a striking luminescent green plumage. Bars had a vivid scarlet head, while Lona’s was a brilliant electric blue.
These parrots roamed the apartment freely, perched on shoulders, and ate raw meat from hands. The moment one of them let out a cry, their wild, exotic screech could be heard for nearly a kilometre. Lona was an extraordinarily intelligent bird, capable of opening any cage and go for walks as she pleased. It was especially entertaining in warm weather when the family placed the cage on the balcony — Lona would then soar around the building like a living emerald phantom. Local residents watched in astonishment as this strange, massive, predatory green bird circled through the concrete jungle of central Europe. All of this further enriched the already peculiar reputation of both the building and its inhabitants. Yet the Kirnevs never feared that Lona would fly away forever, for Bars, her mate, refused to leave the cage even when the door stood wide open. No matter how far Lona flew, it was enough for Bars to let out a single cry, and she would immediately return to him.
Because of all these eccentricities, many people in the neighbourhood sarcastically referred to the Kirnev family as “the Addams Family.” The Kirnevs, however, accepted this title as a compliment.
Jurii remembers those years as the very peak of his childhood… the time when his character and preferences truly began to take shape. Every day was filled with adventure. In the children’s imagination, the playground and every corridor of the building were transformed into pirate ships, fantastical cities, and medieval dungeons inhabited by dragons. Each floor and every lift possessed its own story and mythology. At the same time, all the doors in the multi-storey apartment building were left open. Children could freely enter the flats of complete strangers. As long as they remained inside the fence surrounding the territory, they all felt perfectly safe. Venturing beyond the gate, however, was considered something dangerously exciting… and therefore irresistibly attractive. Naturally, every child considered it their solemn duty to run as far from home as possible, and to stay away for as long as they could. The destination was always the same: nearby lay the main central stadium of Budapest, as well as the most beautiful city park Városliget, where the kids climbed ancient trees and scrambled across the roofs of gothic buildings, telling each other ever more elaborate stories about ghosts and monsters.
To tell the truth, the adults showed little concern for the children’s safety, for from the age of five onwards, all the children were already remarkably sensible and independent. All those modern tales claiming that children cannot be left at home alone because they might start a fire or cause any other damage is a complete nonsense. Kids in that neighbourhood were routinely left at home by themselves for entire days, and no serious incidents ever occurred. Although, believe me, Jurii tried very hard… both to start fires and to stick his fingers into sockets. Curiously, he was never electrocuted… or at least he no longer remembers it.
In Jurii’s memory, that period remains an endless, unbroken celebration. It is forever associated with the most vivid New Year’s festivities and an infinitely prolonged Halloween… a holiday that no one in that building celebrated except the Kirnev family. He also often recalls the spring sky, painted in delicate shades of pink after the rain at sunset, where white lightning flickered softly among the rose-coloured clouds. And speaking of the sky, on one occasion he witnessed a UFO gliding silently above the roofs of the residential complex in the night. It appeared as a classic flying saucer, notable only for its square lights that glowed and rotated counterclockwise along its rim. The rest of the structure seemed metallic. As the saucer passed over the building, many children were playing in the courtyard below. When Jurii pointed his finger at the sky and cried, “Look, what is that?”, not a single one of them raised their head. Objectively, he understood even then that it was most likely an ordinary aeroplane following its usual route and altitude, for such passenger flights passed every twenty minutes. Everything else was completed by his imagination. Yet Jurii had never been fond of alien stories or cosmic themes, so his young mind had no particular reason to conjure such a vision. He simply saw what he saw.
All of this added yet another layer to the growing treasury of urban legends surrounding the complex. As if it were not enough that ghosts dwelt there and the very ground was cursed... now, it seemed, aliens flew above it as well.
In those years, Jurii’s favourite game was chess. From the moment his father taught him to play at the age of four, he seized every opportunity to play and displayed a remarkable talent for it. Unfortunately, very few children in his surroundings knew how to play, and even most adults could not think more than two moves ahead. As a result, there was no one in the entire residential complex whom Jurii could not defeat. Knowing this, his father would take him to Városliget Park, where local residents occasionally organised amateur chess tournaments on park benches. Only there could Jurii find worthy opponents capable of beating him. And as Jurii would later remark, those who managed to defeat him were never the ones who outwardly appeared intelligent or formidable. Appearances, he learned early, are often deeply deceptive.
It was around this same time, at the age of five or six, that in this very park he had the joy of playing a game against the greatest chess player in history Bobby Fischer. Remarkably, Jurii did not know at the time who he was facing. He understood only that this was some famous chess player, but he neither knew his name nor the extent of his fame. It was only years later that his father revealed it had been Bobby Fischer himself. Unfortunately, the game ended in a draw... not by stalemate, but because a crowd of admirers gathered around the celebrity, forcing the match to be interrupted before its conclusion. Nevertheless, the two players shook hands with quiet dignity.
Jurii was the second child in the family, and his elder brother was always an authority for him. Yet no matter how hard Jurii tried to be like him at that young age, they were completely different children. His brother Evgeny was "the golden boy." He possessed such a bright, natural magnetism that everyone loved and respected him. All the boys in the courtyard wanted him on their team. All the girls said they were in love with Evgeny. All the mothers held him up as an example to their own children. And all the teachers forgave Evgeny any mischief. At the same time, Evgeny never abused this power. On the contrary, he constantly strove to justify it. He was indeed a diligent, neat, and well-mannered young boy. Jurii, by contrast, was his complete opposite. No one ever wanted to play or befriend him.
Evgeny would enter a room and say “Hello,” and everyone would immediately warm to him. Then Jurii would follow, saying exactly the same “Hello,” and everyone would scatter at once. Only later, with age, did he come to understand the obvious truth: of course no one wanted to play with a disabled kid. And even if some children did, their parents would not allow them near him. Parents, being foolish and overly protective, feared for their own child at the mere sight of an invalid nearby. Naturally, in those years Jurii did not understand this, but like all children, he possessed a very clear and acute sense of justice. Kids may not be able to explain it, but they feel always it deeply.
When Evgeny applied 100% of his effort, he received a 100% result and recognition. Yet when Jurii gave 100% of his effort, the outcome was often no more than 1%. Thus, in order to achieve the same result as his brother, he had to work a thousand times harder. From the earliest years, he knew that this world was fundamentally unjust. No matter how hard he tried, the result was always negative.
It was then, in his earliest years, that he realised the only way to restore balance and let justice prevail was to behave according to the judgement placed upon him. Since they told him he was a bad boy, he decided he must act like one. At which point everyone around him would immediately exclaim: “You see? You see? We told you he was bad. And now here is the proof. It turns out he is even worse than we thought.” Thus, to make the equation balance, Jurii had to behave even worse. And so it continued in an endless, vicious circle.
At one point, his hooligan behaviour reached such a low that he himself began to believe he was the worst person on the planet. And yet, strangely enough, this very realisation completely liberated him from the opinions of others. When a person accepts that he is the worst and that any action he takes will inevitably provoke a negative reaction, he becomes utterly free from any external judgement.
Nevertheless, being a child, like all children, he still wanted to play with the others. And it was precisely here that his creative thinking first began to manifest itself in full force. He was forced to invent entire concepts and games in which he too could participate. Thus, at the age of only four or five, he created whole systems — primitive yet remarkably intricate versions of table role-playing games — without ever knowing that such things already existed in the world. But we are speaking of small kids, who cannot sit still even for five minutes. Jurii would craft a captivating story and elaborate system, the game would begin… and then one of the children would suddenly shout something, and the whole group would dash off after him. Once again, Jurii would be left standing alone. And it was almost impossible to lure the same children back into the same story a second time. Therefore, every new day demanded a completely new invention.
It was during this period that Jurii quickly learned the crucial difference between interesting stories and boring ones. He discovered that a good story always required a worthy villain. Yet none of the children ever wanted to play the role of the antagonist. Every single one desired to be the noble prince upon a white horse. And when you have ten princes in one game and no villain, the story simply cannot unfold. And since Jurii wanted the game to take place, the role of the dark sorcerer inevitably fell to him every time.
The more he embodied such roles, the more they began to fascinate him. The very idea of being different gradually acquired for him not only an aesthetic, but a profound inner meaning. He liked the idea of being the game master… the one who knows how everything works behind the scenes, who holds all the keys and knows every secret exit from the labyrinth. Perhaps it was from that time onward that Jurii developed a deep aversion to playing by other people’s rules. He always preferred to create his own and to remain the one in control of the situation.
Each time, in order to create a new game or story, the small child drew inspiration — as all children do — from the cartoons of his time. He watched Disney animations, yet always found himself drawn to the motivations of the villains. Very quickly he came to understand that the concepts of good and evil, right and wrong, were merely a matter of perspective. Thus, in his own stories, plots, and games, Jurii always tried to look at the world through the most unusual and distorted points of view… those that seemed strange and twisted to the absolute majority around him. From the earliest age, he discovered the joy of exploring new worldviews, perspectives, and philosophical concepts, often without even realising what he was doing. On his childish level, he simply sought to learn something new, to broaden the horizons of his mind.
The television screen was his main window into the world. Although his family spoke Russian at home, there were no Russian TV channels available. Only Hungarian and German programmes played. By watching them, Jurii absorbed new languages.
It was precisely because of his initial lack of understanding of the languages that he developed a very clear sense of what made a good story and what made a bad one. He reasoned that if a plot could be understood without words, then it was a strong and compelling story. If, however, everything depended on dialogue, it quickly became boring to watch… even later, when he had learned the languages.
Cinema remained his favourite form of entertainment. He adored films and would rewatch his favourite pictures countless times. It was also thanks to the language barrier that the absolute majority of the residents in that building developed a rather peculiar mentality. The men worked every day and were occupied with their affairs, while the women, for the most part, simply suffered from idleness. There was no internet, of course, and television was in an incomprehensible tongue. To entertain themselves in their free time, people would travel to Russia and return with suitcases full of cheap pirated VHS cassettes featuring nasal simultaneous translation. These cassettes filled entire shelves like books in a library. And Jurii would always wait eagerly for the neighbours’ return so he could visit their homes and choose new films to watch.
All the videocassettes were strictly divided into three categories: children’s, for men, and for women. The children’s section consisted of various cartoons and fairy tales, but truthfully, the children did not particularly love them. They watched them, yet each boy considered himself too grown-up to openly admit it. Therefore, all the lads immediately reached for the men’s section, which contained cool action films featuring brutal heroes such as Jean-Claude Van Damme, Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Steven Seagal, and Jackie Chan. Any film filled with fights, explosions, chases, and shootouts was watched dozens of times and instantly declared a masterpiece. Afterwards, the boys would rush into the courtyard to recreate those same chases, fights, and daring leaps. They would return home covered in bloody scrapes and bruises… and utterly happy.
As for the women’s section, almost no one ever watched those tapes. Perhaps not even the women themselves. These were mostly dramas of a highly erotic nature, sometimes bordering on outright pornography, though more often primitive and plotless softcore films such as Emmanuelle. The covers always featured women in lingerie. Every time a bra appeared on screen, all the boys would immediately lose interest. They were drawn only to sweaty, muscular men.
However, even here Jurii proved to be an exception. He clearly remembers one episode from his childhood: he and a large group of boys went to someone’s flat to watch the film Under Siege with Steven Seagal — their absolute favourite, which they had seen a hundred times. In the middle of the movie, a scene suddenly appeared featuring a naked actress Erika Eleniak with a breathtaking figure. At the sight of her bare form, all the boys, aged between four and ten, immediately began whistling awkwardly, covering each other’s eyes, blushing, and behaving as though they had stumbled upon something truly forbidden. For Jurii, this reaction always seemed strange. Only moments earlier they had all been playing Mortal Kombat, gleefully ripping out each other’s hearts and spines in the most savage manner… and that was considered perfectly normal. Yet being caught watching a woman’s naked breast was treated as something dangerous and shameful. Jurii did not share this view. He remembers being not embarrassed, but rather deeply intrigued, filled with a desire to know more.
When all the children’s films and action movies had been watched countless times, Jurii began visiting neighbours to borrow cassettes from the women’s shelves. Films such as Two Moon Junction, 9½ Weeks, The Story of O, Boxing Helena, and other masterpieces of erotic cinema were watched by him from a very early age. He honestly admits that he often failed to understand many of the plot lines, yet his admiration for feminine beauty became his greatest delight. And he distinctly remembers how, by the age of six, he had already set himself a clear and unwavering goal: when he married, his wife would be the most beautiful woman on the planet… objectively so. This later made him extremely demanding and strict regarding feminine beauty and appearance. Even in early adolescence, he could not be deceived by feminine tricks. He always clearly distinguished between a truly beautiful woman and one who was merely well-painted.
It is difficult to fully express the depth of my feelings… this overwhelming mixture of flattery and pride of being Jurii Kirnev’s wife.
Returning to those early years, before school age, Jurii also recalls his relationship with religion and moral questions. The Kirnev family was never a religious family, even though their heritage carried very ancient traditions with deep religious roots. They respectfully observed their own family holidays and customs. However, one must not forget that after the collapse of the Soviet Union — which had positioned itself as an atheistic state (utter nonsense) — a period of wild obscurantism and fabricated Orthodox Christian values began in the new Russia.
Visiting neighbours’ apartments, Jurii would see Christian icons depicting Slavic saints in every room. At the time, he did not understand that these were sacred objects… he simply thought they were part of Russian culture. He believed the bearded men in women’s robes were somehow connected to old Russian fairy tales like Father Frost. He genuinely thought the halos around their heads were merely traditional kokoshnik headdresses.
All these people tried to impose upon him their moral values and religious rituals, which in no way aligned with the traditions of his own family. Thus, Jurii found himself caught between two alien religious worldviews. On one side of the fence lay Hungarian Catholicism, while on the other stood the fanatical Orthodox zeal of the new Russian school.
Notably, Jurii was never truly baptised in the canonical sense. Nadezhda says she wanted to have him baptised, but only according to their family traditions. The priest opposed this and refused, but Jurii’s mother insisted. In the end, the priest performed a non-canonical rite. Thus, Jurii was sort of baptised… yet no church recognises such a baptism.
Jurii himself remembers first crossing the threshold of a church at the age of six. This happened after the death of his noble grandmother, Leana Zaharia. In a Bulgarian church in Budapest, the Kirnev family made a small memorial portrait for her. He recalls a rather amusing episode from that time. In those years, he loved drawing a decorative five-pointed star with one swift movement of the hand, without lifting the pencil from the paper. To draw it quickly and without losing direction, it was easier for him to draw the figure upside down… that is, an inverted pentagram. Finding himself in church for the first time and seeing people praying and making the sign of the cross, Jurii, not understanding what was happening, assumed they were drawing the very same pentagram. He began earnestly tracing the same symbol in the air. Years later he would understand the paradox, considering the pagan… and now satanic… meaning of that inverted symbol.
A religious worldview could never truly take root in the Kirnev family, for the main books of Jurii’s and his brother’s childhood were encyclopaedias on the most diverse subjects: science, biology and geography. In particular, Jurii always loved lavishly illustrated encyclopaedias devoted to world history and the cultures of different peoples. Turning the pages, he would see the beauty of the Arab world, then the sacred rituals of African tribes, followed by Asian temples, the decorative ornaments of South America, and so on. Jurii always knew that the world was vast and infinitely diverse. Any tradition, even those of his own family, was merely a small fragment in a much greater global mosaic. Every culture and every religion was beautiful and unique in its own way.
A global worldview was instilled in his perception of reality from the very beginning… through his multi-ethnic family heritage and rich ancestral culture and through the books he devoured. Jurii was always drawn to Asian cultures, while Evgeny preferred African-American culture, being a great lover of rap and basketball, particularly the NBA. As a result, their shared children’s room was strikingly divided: one side adorned with posters of African-American idols, while Jurii’s side featured Asian hieroglyphs, medical charts of Eastern medicine, majestic dragons, and intricate diagrams of Chinese acupuncture points.
Speaking of medical interests, I must mention the neighbours who lived on the same floor, directly opposite the Kirnevs. It was the Ordin family… almost identical in structure to their own, except that they had two daughters of roughly the same ages as Jurii and Evgeny. The elder girl was fascinated by medicine, and her room was entirely covered with anatomical posters of the nervous system, X-rays, and botanical illustrations. She and Jurii would spend hours peering into a microscope together and reading books on biology and medicine. Already at the age of five, Jurii could describe with remarkable precision the entire process of childbirth and could draw, with anatomical accuracy, almost any gynaecological process. Given that he had spent much of his childhood in hospitals and inside MRI machines, daily contemplating images of his own organs, his knowledge of anatomy and medicine was truly exceptional.
Continuing with the Ordin family, I cannot overlook their father, Igor, a passionate collector of rock music. He constantly shared with Jurii the best and often forbidden audio cassettes. Yet even more significant was his wife, Elena. To some extent, Jurii considers her his first true teacher in life. Elena Ordin was an extraordinarily educated, sarcastic woman possessed of the darkest and sharpest black humour one could imagine. She was the kind of person who could say something seemingly ordinary with a perfectly straight face, yet the precise arrangement of her words created multiple layers of meaning and irony. One might not grasp the full depth, paradox, or humour of what she had said until months later.
Because of her wit and biting sarcasm, almost no one in that community liked her. Even her husband and children could not fully appreciate the depth of her jokes. It was precisely for this reason that she and Jurii understood each other so well… two black sheep who could openly exchange the darkest tales. Elena regularly gave Jurii the most obscene, twisted, and brilliantly cruel books filled with savage stories. These were works he could not show to anyone… not even his own parents, let alone his peers. He privately called them his personal Necronomicons. All of this greatly contributed to the expansion of his unusual perspectives and the formation of his unique worldview. However, as one can easily imagine, it was enough for Jurii to utter even one of those jokes in public for him to be regarded as an even greater hooligan and “bad boy.”
It is rather amusing that years later Elena Ordin would become a highly respected and well-known tour guide in Budapest. Under her authorship appeared a vast number of popular lectures and guidebooks about the city. In reality, however, half of these guides were secretly written by Jurii, and this remained their private joke. Together they invented the most incredible, insane, and absurd stories, layered with deep double meanings, solely to troll the tourists. Of course, no one understood that it was a mockery. The vast majority of visitors to Hungary studied the history of the city according to the sheer madness that Jurii and Elena had concocted. One needed only to think for two seconds to realise how ridiculous the whole thing was, yet people believed it without question. To this day, whenever I walk through the centre of the city and see a group of tourists following a guide, every third guide recounts the very nonsense that Jurii once invented.
What is truly remarkable is that Jurii always possessed a rare gift: the ability to create stories that would later take on a life of their own, existing independently of their author and transforming into small urban legends. And most importantly, from the earliest age he understood a profound truth — the stupider and more insane the story, the more readily people would believe it.
