Kommersant’s report from the Orsk school, where a temporary accommodation center for flood victims was organized

The dam break forced residents of Orsk to urgently return to schools, where temporary accommodation centers (TACs) were opened. For several days now, people from flooded areas have been living in gyms, waiting for the weather to change. Kommersant correspondent Polina Yachmennikova I visited one of the city schools and saw how teachers and students help flooded neighbors.

“We are not distributing drinking water!” – such a strange announcement catches your eye at the entrance to the temporary detention center. Next to it is another piece of paper: “Private wells where you can fill your container with water for free” – and several addresses. These advertisements are a symbol of the flooded city and the self-organization of its residents. After the dam broke in Orsk, there was a shortage of drinking water – bottled water was sold out, and tap water can cause poisoning even after boiling. But owners of artesian wells in the private sector offer water to everyone in need. And those in need sooner or later come to a temporary accommodation center to find out where and how they can live next.

One of the first temporary temporary accommodation centers was opened at school No. 11 on Tagilskaya Street in the New City. Despite the emergency situation, decency is observed: smoking is prohibited on the school grounds, so the guests smoke behind the fence. Two policemen are on duty at the entrance; people pass by, laden with purchases from hypermarkets. Several large bags – the handles are about to come off – are being carried by a girl of about fifteen. The policeman takes the bags from her with a sigh: “Why are you going out? Let them send the boys.”

The PVR begins at the registration point: evacuees are asked to fill out forms. Most of the questions are quite specific: who are you, where did you evacuate from, with whom, do you need medical assistance. The questionnaire also contains a large section about immediate plans: is there a place to live, is the house badly damaged, is it possible to return there after the situation improves.

The staff at the point are teachers from the same school. Most recently, they worked in the presidential elections, and now they are helping neighbors who are victims of floods. “We have mostly those who delayed evacuating for a long time,” the teacher says disapprovingly, as if giving a bad mark in life safety. “That’s why there are a lot of elderly people here, people with limited mobility, and those whose everything was flooded.”

According to the Orsk administration, on Tuesday there were 16 temporary accommodation centers operating in the city, capable of accommodating up to 12 thousand people. Now almost 1.5 thousand people live in them, including 240 children. When Kommersant correspondents came to school No. 11, there were about 200 people there, but this number is constantly changing, teachers say.

Kommersant correspondents ask for a tour of the temporary detention center, and psychologist Natalya responds. Right now she is free: although psychologists at the temporary temporary detention center are on duty around the clock, few people come to them with a specific request. “People are in shock and have not yet realized the problem,” explains the specialist.

First of all, Natalya shows the school gym. There are rows of beds almost close to each other. People who have difficulty moving were accommodated here. “We bring food here because it’s difficult for them to get to the canteen,” says the psychologist. A man whose bed is located directly under a basketball basket jokes that all he needs to be happy is a ball: “I would throw it without getting up.”

The assembly hall is a living room “only for women.” “But most of our premises are of a mixed type,” says Natalya. “Many come with families and want to live nearby.” There is a room in the TAP for mothers with children – it is located in the building for preschoolers. Loud music is coming from there; Looking behind the door, Kommersant correspondents saw life-size dolls jumping ropes with children. “Today is one boy’s birthday, so the volunteers organized a party for him,” Natalya smiles. Then the situation gradually changes: the beds end, and rows of folding beds begin, and behind them are just mattresses. “Almost everything was brought by volunteers,” explains the psychologist. “People themselves collected money, provided the points with everything that was missing.”

The emergency of the situation is demonstrated by the school locker rooms. Just a week ago there were jackets and a change of clothes hanging there. Now here is a storage area for the most important things: hygiene products, water bottles, wet wipes, soap. At the distribution point there is a flock of teenagers. They proudly say that this is their “home school.” “We all live nearby. But our area wasn’t flooded, so our help isn’t needed at home,” says the high school student. “But here it is, and we came right away on Saturday.” The guys unload cars with humanitarian aid, disassemble the boxes and distribute them to those in need. “And we can orient those who are stationed here where everything is. This is our school, we know everything here,” the younger girl adds, embarrassed. Forced absenteeism does not bother schoolchildren: “Who will teach them? All our teachers now work in the temporary temporary detention center; they have no time.” The guys don’t feel sad about this. “Maybe our OGE exam will be canceled because of this?” — the ninth-grader adds hopefully.

Natalya escorts Kommersant correspondents to the second floor. In the hall near the stairs there are neat rows of shoes. It was brought by Orchan residents for their flooded neighbors. “We are trying to at least organize shoes by size,” says the psychologist. “At first we also tried with clothes, but then we abandoned this idea – there is too much of it.” Indeed, several halls and offices are filled with clothes: mountains of things approach the ceiling. Volunteer schoolgirls are still trying to fold them more compactly: the girls are barely visible among the bags. “Many people didn’t even take a change of underwear; some came wet,” says Natalya. “They asked to bring clothes, and they are still bringing them.” It’s not just TAP residents who take things; those staying with relatives and friends also come here.

School director Nadezhda Sudorgina barely finds a few minutes to talk with Kommersant correspondents: she is constantly on the phone. “I’m now coordinating a time when MFC employees will come to talk about payments to the victims,” she says. “We have to constantly communicate with the ambulance, as the guests periodically become ill.” Teachers constantly run up to the director asking not only about humanitarian aid, but also about the educational process. “You know, we all went to work on Friday and it seems like we didn’t sleep even once,” sighs Mrs. Sudorgina. “But everything will definitely be fine. And we can handle it.” She says goodbye and hurriedly goes to the school hall to meet her flooded neighbors.

The Kommersant correspondent follows her, but on the way looks into the medical office. There are two paramedics on duty there at once. “Most often people turn to us for help because of problems with blood pressure,” says the doctor. “And not only residents, but also employees.” “Well, just imagine what it’s like to work under such stress,” says the second doctor. “It’s even more difficult than teaching teenagers.”