"Why can't you shut Lupin's mouth?"
The story of the head of a Khabarovsk village who regularly wants to give up, but has been solving the problems of his home village for 13 years.
Yevgeny Lupin, the head of the Khabarovsk village of Sita, has been writing petitions to Putin for years. He demands housing for public sector workers, a fire department, a replacement bulldozer, and even a water supply for a single resident in the village within the village. He's been successful in achieving some things. Despite all his efforts and some victories, the village's population continues to decline year after year, and the streets are littered with abandoned houses overgrown with weeds and trees.
The ghost of BAM in the remote taiga
It's about 70 kilometers from Sita to Khabarovsk. It's a long way, along the old, or "Baikal-Amur Mainline" (BAM) highway, as they call it here. Back in the tsarist era, there were plans to build a railway all the way to the coast of the Sea of Japan, but it never came to fruition. Later, in the 30s, a separate railway line was built from the village of Sukpai, through Sita and Obor (28 kilometers away, and at one point considered the same village as Sita), to the BAM—hence the name "BAM." It was used to transport timber and receive military supplies. However, now only paths remain of the railway: the tracks have been dismantled, and the entire road infrastructure has been destroyed.
Vladimir, a native of Sita, agreed to take us to his native village. He and his family have long since settled in Khabarovsk, but he's visiting his sister in Sita, who lives in the house his father built. He sadly recounts what the village was like in his childhood, listing: a four-track railway station, a hospital with a laboratory and inpatient department, a bus station, an auto repair shop, a road construction company…
"There was a house here, we used to pick strawberries from the garden—they were the tastiest. And here was what people called the 'mausoleum'—the local wine and vodka shop; there was a line on Saturdays," our companion points around.
Vladimir's help came in handy: buses to Sita, it turns out, no longer run. Drivers say the route is unprofitable, and the roads are a real pain. Taxi drivers charge upwards of two thousand rubles for an hour's journey.
We reached the village along a gravel road between two seemingly uninhabited banks of the taiga. But at the entrance to the village, life was in full swing.
"Come on, I'm pulling!" a man of about 50 shouts over the rumbling machinery.
He looks no different from the workers—a simple, slightly dusty T-shirt, sweatpants, and a cap. But this is the village mayor, Yevgeny Lupin.
“I’ll pull another rope now, it’s open at my administration office, go there,” he says to Vladimir.
Ropes are stretched to mark the formwork for the future sidewalk. Workers are then paving it.
"I'll be right there," Lupin adds to me. "You don't need me in the front door, do you? You won't be filming?"
He pulls up to the one-story administration building, finished in white siding, on a moped—the kind of mobile transport found in a village "city hall." He parks it right there, near the porch.
"Comrade Lupin! We believe you!"
The rural settlement began with the village of Vesyoliy Kut, founded in 1909 by Ukrainians from the Kyiv province. The settlement of the Amur region in those years occurred via several routes, including by water, from Odessa to Vladivostok. Settlers were offered privileges, including land ownership, and later, livestock distribution. According to According to the Far Eastern Scientific Library, almost 22% of the settlers of those years were from the Kyiv province, with only a higher proportion coming from the Chernigov province (30,5%). Thus, entire villages emerged in the pristine taiga. Later, in the 1930s, it was in Sita that the central estate of the Oborsky timber industry enterprise began to be built. Fyodor Petrovich Lupin, grandfather of the current head, was one of the first residents.
Evgeny Lupin had no ambitions to become village head. He worked part-time since school; his family ran their own farm. In Khabarovsk, he studied mechanic at the Highway Technical School. Then he served in the army and the border guards.
"Then they told me at the military registration and enlistment office: 'So, are you going to Anapa?' But I'd only seen that name in a wine and vodka shop. After a month of service, I passed all the exams and began teaching everything about naval artillery installations. Then I transferred to Kazakevichevo"They tried to keep me on for extended service, but I didn't want to: I had to ask a friend to have his family send a telegram saying I had a baby," Lupin recalls.
Unable to be reinstated in technical school immediately, he joined the police, serving there for three years. As he himself puts it, he was "caught up in the 90s." As a result, in 1998, after serving in the police, he was convicted of carrying and storing explosives (Part 1, Article 222 of the Russian Criminal Code). He was given a suspended sentence, without the right to reside in Khabarovsk. He served his sentence at his parents' home in Sita.
"That's it, I came here, tucked my tail between my legs, and went back to doing housework, helping my mom and dad with the farm: they kept cows and pigs back then. That probably played a key role in how I ended up back on my native land. I was born here, in our old Sitinsky hospital. Then I started my own family." — says Lupin.
His home now lies near the village center. Like his parents, Lupin runs his own farm.
"When I got married, we kept rabbits, pigs, and chickens. We used to have up to 17 piglets! Then I became the head of the farm, we downsized the farm, and we kept five to seven pigs. This year, we had fewer; we recently slaughtered a 150-kilogram boar. Now I'll only have two piglets left until fall, but maybe we'll buy more."
It was already the 2000s when Lupin had to fight for the village for the first time. By then, he had already graduated from the Highway Technical School and was working at a logging company. His daughters were encouraged to engage in community service: in 2011, he decided to enroll them in kindergarten. He attended a meeting, and the principal told him that the kindergarten should be closed and liquidated due to the dilapidated condition.
"I was generally apolitical before this. But because of the kindergarten, I had to hold my first meeting and invite journalists. Incidentally, I was also fined a thousand rubles for an 'unauthorized rally.' So the kindergarten became my first brainchild."
In fact, he himself later worked in the new kindergarten, from 2013 until his first election as head of the village in 2017.
After his initial success with restoring the kindergarten, Lupin became a village council member. In 2017, he ran for the mayor of Sita for the first time. He ran for the United Russia party, saying it was necessary to do so in order to be elected. He received 69,95% of the vote, with 305 people casting their ballots for him.
The next elections were in 2022, but United Russia didn't want to re-nominate Lupin, planning to replace him. Our interviewee says his now-former party comrades disliked his "activities." For example, he advocated for maintaining direct elections for village heads. These have been effectively abolished almost everywhere in the region, and now heads are elected by local deputies, but in the City, direct elections have been preserved to this day.
"A deputy I know once came to see me, and we were discussing the latest amendments from the regional Duma. And he said to me, 'Well, when the people elected me, they knew how knowledgeable I was, so now I have the right to make my own decisions the way I see fit.' And I said, 'Well, if you were elected, that means you represent the people's interests! Or maybe they made a mistake, and today you represent their interests, but tomorrow you don't give a damn about their opinions?'" Lupin complains about his fellow deputies' attitude toward his work.
He left United Russia in 2022. To participate in the elections, he joined A Just Russia. That year, he says, the election was highly competitive, with three candidates running. But Lupin's opponents failed to garner even a hundred votes. 439 people voted for Lupin, or 80,55%. A commemorative frame from voters now hangs in his office closet. The letterhead on the election commission reads: "Comrade Lupin! We trusted you! There are 439 of us! Congratulations on your victory!"
Zero emotions
According to Evgeny Lupin, the number of problems in the village is not decreasing year after year, and every task is important.
After the kindergarten incident, there was an attempt to close the outpatient clinic in 2013-2014 as part of a budget optimization program. Lupin wasn't even a member of parliament yet, but he re-entered the fray. It took several years for the villagers to secure the construction of a new medical facility. The new building was completed in 2017, by which time Lupin had already become mayor.
"We wrote to the regional government back then, but they told us it was impossible to develop a project for every village! We had to write to the presidential administration. They're just letting us get away with it. Then, on our fifth attempt, we probably finally got our way. Incidentally, that was the last ribbon cut by former regional governor Vyacheslav Shport before his last election in 2018. And after us, a [standard] design for modular outpatient clinics emerged: similar ones, practically identical, have begun to be built in other villages," the village head explains.
Also, "via Moscow," in 2014, the village secured the construction of a fire station. Lupin decided it was necessary after a tragic incident: his first teacher, an elderly woman, died in a fire. She initially escaped, escaped, and then returned to the house to retrieve her documents, only to be unable to leave.
It took about two years of battling with higher authorities, using the same approach: first the district authorities, then the regional authorities, and finally Moscow. According to the village head, this is the only way to get through.
"The regional government kept saying a lot to our district authorities back then—like, why can't you shut Lupin up? Here's a couple of firefighting backpacks, organize volunteers, and that's all you need! And I'd just scribble above—and immediately a delegation would fly in and start choosing a site for the unit's construction. Yes, these problems aren't solved on the first try; sometimes they take ten, sometimes they even stall for years, all of it takes time and effort. Sometimes I'll give up, give up, then after a while you sit down and think: well, you're not a weakling, you still have to keep up this fight somehow. Again you write, you shot somewhere and it hit the mark, — explains Lupin his tactics.
They also had to deal with the water supply in Shapovalovka, part of the Sitinskoye rural settlement. A single woman lives there. And it was only for her that Lupin sought a well in 2022.
"She had a horse and cows there. And they drank water from an ordinary swamp, not even a spring. And they wrote to Putin on her behalf, too. Of course, representatives of the district administration came first, and they started shouting again, 'Damn it, nothing will happen to you here, you'll have to buy imported water.' But the water there is golden—500 rubles a barrel! And they had to wait for the president's order just to start doing something. But now the elderly woman is alive and happy. The water is delicious, wonderful; I've tried it."
— Doesn’t it irritate you that you have to do everything through Moscow?
"It's annoying! You know, when Sergei Furgal became governor, everything was somehow simpler for a while. I wrote to him on WhatsApp about all our problems, and I even went to see him. Then he was in the village himself, and he just saw that there were no locker rooms on the football field, so he gave us some unused ones from somewhere. He'd give us balls, or donate ping-pong tables... And if you talked to him, he'd give you specific instructions. As for the road—the repairs that are currently underway—he started it, the project was developed under his watch. Furgal also planned to hand over the maintenance of this road to the foresters, who mostly drive on it, finishing it off, but that didn't work out. Now you write to, say, Degtyarev—the issue needs to be resolved. Zero emotion. And then you still have to write there, to the president.
Those who are richer leave
Despite some victories, the problems in Sita remain roughly the same as in other rural communities.
“Those who are rich are leaving, but I don’t have any money, I haven’t earned enough for an apartment,” says the woman we’re talking to near the clinic.
She talks to the journalist reluctantly - first of all, she sends him to Evgeny Lupin, saying that he will say it better.
— There are no buses! I went there recently. by taxi with a private driver, but it's inconvenient! I got there early in the morning, and what am I supposed to do there? And on the way back, I'm constantly on the phone. It says it's leaving now, then again in an hour—right now. And so on, endlessly. It's terribly inconvenient. A bus with a schedule would be great. But here we are: no road, no bus.
— And the tigers don’t bother you?
— Someone recently had their dog stolen. Well, no matter how much they bothered you, look. (points across the road) - Here is the taiga. Of course, he shouldn't come.
There is also nowhere to work in the village, except for shops, a school, a kindergarten and a post office.
Postman Evgeniya, whom I meet at the store, says that many people survive on mushrooms and berries during the season, selling them on the highway. Not everyone is willing to go to the post office: they're afraid of dogs in the yards and wild animals.
"I saw a tiger's track myself in the winter. Uncovered, fresh. It was a bit scary. And my daughter and I go empty the buckets from the house together."
"There was a tiger or something near my house once. I started heating up the sauna, but I heard this crackling sound coming from the forest. It's dark in our village, there are no streetlights, you can't see a thing. So, I decided not to go to the sauna that day!" the saleswoman adds.
Lupin admits the problems are long-standing. The bus issue was partially resolved—at one point, there was even a service, and they even managed to secure subsidies from the region, as a socially important route. But while the roads are okay in winter, in summer, logging trucks destroy the route: "With a road like this, the transport will fall apart faster than you can earn anything." For now, the village is once again left without bus service to the district center of Pereyaslavka and the regional capital of Khabarovsk.
Residents of Sitin are currently awaiting a response from the presidential administration to their request for road repairs. Lupin wants to change everything step by step: first, repair the road, then restore the bus service, and only then, as Furgal wanted, either transfer the road to foresters for maintenance or install weigh-in stations to force logging trucks to take detours on dirt roads.
The situation with tigers and bears in Sita has worsened in recent years. According to the village head, there was perhaps only one instance in the 80s of a tiger being seen on a farm. It was shot, and a stuffed specimen is now being built in the local history museum. No one was harmed, except for the pigs on the farm. But recently, tigers have been coming closer.
"Our village is like a forest; the trees burn quickly. One minute there was civilization, and then a couple of years later, it's a forest," Lupin laments.
Lupin has several more requests in the works. To create firebreaks, the village needs a new bulldozer—the one the fire department has can't handle the dense, swampy taiga, and the cost of hiring one is exorbitant: six million rubles per firebreak. These prices were sent "from the outskirts," and Lupin calls them "a mockery."
He's also pushing for the construction of housing for public sector employees—to attract teachers and medical professionals to the village—and for the construction of an indoor gym for the school (currently, the children study on the third floor in a small, low-ceilinged room). Lupin would also like to see businesses come to the area: he says Sita has deposits of refractory clays that could become the basis for a ceramics and brick factory.
The mayor believes it's necessary to return the functions of the Civil Registry Office to the village administration, which were abolished by a regional law under Degtyarev. The mayor even held a picket outside the government building, supported by regional deputy Maxim Kukushkin, but so far there's been no progress.
The story with the civil registry offices also began with a specific situation: a local resident was married, but she hadn't lived with her husband for 15 years, living with another man. He died, leaving her with two small children, ages three and six, and without any means of support. By law, the district administration was supposed to accept her divorce petition, conduct a review within 30 days, and only then formalize the divorce. But the village mayor arranged everything in a single day—he called her husband, he sent scans of the documents, and the divorce was granted that same day, along with the child benefit application.
"The district administration told me back then that the divorce decree had to be overturned. Everything had to be done properly, within 30 days. But then the woman would have to return the allegedly illegally obtained benefits. And how would that be beneficial? Later, the district administration offered me another 'solution'—temporarily removing the children from the family, since the situation was dire... And to be honest... I think we always make decisions that are a little bit stupid. Sure, we might have violated some regulations, by not conducting a 30-day investigation, but at least the person gets help right away," Lupin explains.
Things are not going smoothly at the outpatient clinic either: another round of optimization is looming. Lupin explains that they're demanding layoffs, claiming video surveillance is more cost-effective.
"I understand they've calculated everything—salaries, taxes—but no one takes the well-being of citizens into account! Our security guards are people who are about to retire, and there's a woman with a child. Vladimir Putin always says to prioritize improving the standard of living, well-being, and welfare of citizens! So such decisions contradict both the Constitution and presidential decrees!" Lupin fumes.
Lupin supports Putin. Because many issues in the village are resolved through appeals to the presidential office. He also has a generally positive attitude toward United Russia. He only criticizes certain of its members, saying they "sit around, earn a salary and run a business, and pass laws that don't help the people."
"They'll also slap a fine on me."
Lupin claims that some are now returning from the city and becoming residents of Sita. But the number of abandoned houses and the statistics don't speak in favor of the village. According to the latest census, Sita has 1249 residents. Not everyone lives there; some are only registered.
When Evgeny Lupin took office as head, the population was 2100, then about 1700.
And although Yevgeny Lupin has found a way to get his way through the presidential administration, he knows the prosecutor's office will fine him faster than inactive officials higher up the chain. This recently happened to a pharmacist at the only pharmacy in the region—she, and not the regional enterprise responsible for purchasing medications for the local communities, was targeted for a fine due to the lack of a certain medication (they ultimately escaped punishment).
Now, the local security forces have even turned their attention to the village head himself. He made a harsh remark in one of the village head chats (he asked not to disclose the specifics), and that's apparently why he's now being investigated. He doesn't yet know what charge he's being investigated under, but he doesn't appreciate the attention.
Lupin believes this is all just pre-election fuss: he has announced his candidacy for the regional Legislative Assembly. He is number one on the A Just Russia list for his electoral district, the Laz district, and the neighboring Vyazemsky and Bikinsky districts.
It is still unknown how all this will end, but it seems that if anything happens, the village will stand up for Lupin.
"Residents have even told me they won't let anything be done to him, no matter what obstacles they throw at him, no matter how much they complain," says Natalya Zhiryakova, a member of the Khabarovsk City Duma who has visited the SITA many times. "Residents say he's the best mayor. Because he truly cares about his village. If we had more people like him, maybe we'd live differently. But you'd have to look hard to find people like him. And they put obstacles in his way because he's trying to restore order not only in his own village, but in the district and the entire region as well. He's a fighter like that. They take buses off the route, he complains, and they bring them back. That's just the way it always is. Not everyone likes it."
After the interview, Lupin heads back to the construction site of the new sidewalk to check on the progress.
"Right now, it's impossible to find anyone to work. They mobilized 30 people, then they set targets for 10, 14 people. Some signed contracts, but we didn't fulfill [the target]. So, here I am, doing the same," Lupin mounts his moped. "And if you take a picture of me riding without a helmet, they'll slap a fine on me."
