The Soviets had them. Will we, too?
A cloth mesh bag was a prep for 'just in case'. But it was also much more.
Our article earlier this week about the dangers of being naive was actually supposed to be a wake up call — a sounding of the bell to suggest, as many of our podcast guests have already warned, it’s time to build your ark. Many readers have made similar comments on previous articles encouraging the same.
Our belief here at Collapse Life is that there’s no harm in truthfully acknowledging that we’re on a train headed off a cliff… Not only that, but what’s the harm in preparing in advance?
In short: there is no harm. There is only upside — for you, for your family, for your extended circle of friends.
So what does all that have to do with what’s pictured in this photo?
Behold, the avos’ka bag — a mesh string bag that was ubiquitous in the Soviet Union. Avos’ is the root word meaning perhaps, so the bag was referred to as the ‘perhaps’ bag or ‘maybe’ bag as in: ‘Perhaps we’ll be able to buy something today. Or maybe not.’
Everyone in the Soviet Union carried a ‘maybe’ bag in their pocket or purse. It was a ‘prep,’ just in case something was actually available as you went about your day. Since store shelves were so often empty, you never know if you’d find something to buy and if you did, you’d want to be sure to have an avos’ka to carry it home.
Here’s a little more history, from Russia Today’s Russiapedia:
Mass production of avoskas began in the USSR in the 1930s: the net bag always had 14 rows, each consisting of 24 cells. At first, the avoska had string handles, like the rest of the bag. Later they were replaced with flexible tubes, which were easier to hold. The avoska had its own accessories that were sold separately, the coolest of which was a special hook for hanging your bag, for example, on a rail on public transport - very convenient!
The avos’ka was light but strong, and could expand to hold a large number of items — should you ever be fortunate enough to have the problem of too much to carry. Its one drawback was the fact that everyone could see what you were hauling. But Soviet people didn’t take privacy for granted the way we do, and so they accepted the transparent nature of the avos’ka bag.
The parallels to today are apparent: be prepared for whatever might come up, be flexible enough to take as much or as little made available to you, and be cognizant that others will be acutely aware of what you have (and what you don’t have).
Your credit card or shopper loyalty card is today’s digital avos’ka. Don’t be naive enough to think every purchase isn’t being tracked and recorded. Plus, in the near future you may not qualify to buy whatever it is you want. Your social credit score may not allow it — since you drank too many beers last month, or traveled outside of your allowable zone, or turned the thermostat up too high.
The pandemic, and the subsequent closing of thousands of independent retailers, producers, restaurants, and small business owners, may have pushed us down the slippery slope to ‘perhaps’.
As we stare down the barrel of a brave new world, it is starting to look hauntingly familiar. So if you’re not building your own ark, you could be helping to build your own prison cell.
