Yak Hair String & Brown Paper Wrapping

Its no great surprize that the majority of Soviet Era rangefinder cameras that are purchased these days come from the FSU, those former Soviet Union countries including the Ukraine, Belarus, mother Russia herself, and a host of other now independent lands. Even those that might derive from sellers in the U.S. or Western Europe originated, after all, in those Communist countries, from the trudkommuna and zavods in Kharkov, Berdsk, Kiev, Krasnagorsk and elsewhere. (Here, if one is interested in the historical context of the production of these cameras, I'd suggest re-reading Comrade Stoisha's article elsewhere in this web site, or any of the other sources where this information can be found.) But none of us receive our goods from those points of production these days --those days are either altogether past or the surviving producer companies have modernized beyond the Zorki 3a and the NKVK-YCCP inscribed Fed 1--; we receive them from sellers who coax these cameras out of the possession of whomever had originally bought or been given them.

In some ways I envy those who live in or visit with regularity the cities of Eastern Europe. There, no doubt, it's still possible to find and acquire these pre- and post- War rangefinder cameras in camera shops or curio shops or whatever passes for the local yard or garage sales. For myself, however, I'd be surprized indeed to hear of, much less actually find, a single Kiev or Zorki within hundreds of miles of my home in Utah. Good grief! Even when I lived in the highly urbanized East Coast, and regularly attended the camera shows in Boston or New York or New Jersey and elsewhere, these things were hardly common. So what options do I have for indulging this peculiar passion I've been aflicted with than through eBay or some kind of on-line trading? "Wah, wah, wah," you may say, but them's the facts Jack, and the facts is all we gots to go with.

So I look back on my first overseas purchase --it was a FED 1, and a nice one at that-- and it came from the Ukraine. Yeah, I had a few other SovCams at that time, but they'd all come from more prosaic sources, and only the contents of the package were of interest. By this, I mean they'd been shipped in ubiquitious UPS or U.S. Mail or similar kinds of boxes, and were taped up per the custom in this country. But the packaging of that FED-1! Ah! Curious! Almost otherworldly! The box -- sort of a hand made affair of cardboard, covered with snippets of mysterious Cyrillic writing, and lined with cut fibreboard and 'strong bulbs'-- and it was overlain with brown paper --neatly folded like a Christmas present, no less!-- and bound by a coarse brownish cordage. It amazes me still, each time something of this kind reaches my local Post Office as a registered package, that the thing actually found its way to me. The address labeling and associated customs papers it has acquired along its way are cryptic at best, and at worst are not at all readable. Thankfully, the package's arrival attests to the fact that my name and POB are apparently half-way decipherable, but the rest sure isn't. I can only imagine the average Joe Six-Pack postal worker looking at the Europeanized swirling and curling that serves as written communication in those strange and foreign lands and believes he/she may be holding a bomb or, instead, thinks maybe they'd better contact the FBI (since clearly state secrets are being passed or industrial espionage is being perpetrated). But who in America would possibly believe that someone in Utah would be receiving secret or sensitive materials from Eastern Europe??? Hah! Fooled ya with the obvious, didn't I! That perhaps is why, in my more laissez-fare moments, I occasionally admit to, and go by, the nom de plume "dzerJIMski".... But still, we each have our weaker and more paranoid moments, and more often than I care to admit, I wonder how thick a file exists on me and/or my dealings --and what all might there be documented-- in the Top Secret archives at Langley? And all because of a bunch of innocent 30's, 40's, 50's or 60's era cameras. To use an Utahism: 'Oh my heck!')

But THIS is what is important: DO NOT let anyone tell you that the Ukranian Post Office packages these parcels! Similarly, DO NOT fall for the bizarre explanation sometimes cited that the twine is some hemp based stuff! The Truth is this: these parcels are wrapped at a (or perhaps at several) moveable, and thus secret, zavod(s) in the Ukraine. These cottage industries are staffed by little 'ol babooshkas, and they work their fingers to the bone late into the night and away from prying eyes. As well, yaks are bred in nearby bunkers and ex-gulag areas for the specific purpose of producing this inimitable and highly specialized yak hair twine. Its a sad (but true) fact that a new and ultra secret trudkommunski -- named, I'm told, in honor of "Iron" Felix E. D..Dz...Dzer-something-- has been set up for the express purpose of producing this twine. In that place, starving street urchins trade their labor for bowls of thin borsht, and nimble-fingeredly they twine the yak hair for the sole purpose of securing the packages sent by sellers in the used camera industry.

I confess: this contains a Zenit 3M, not a rangefinder camera at all!

Its HERE! Its finally HERE!!!

My Zorkensteined sorta-kinda Zorki 2 on a sumptuous backdrop.

The thrifty (and recyclably aware) among us take great pains to preserve the packaging in which the photoapparat arrives. Some, it is said, treat these materials with the greatest care, and hoard and collect and trade (and even sell) the finer examples of it on eBay and elsewhere. I happen to fall into the 'hoarder' classification, and will deny to within an inch of my life that I've got tons of the stuff stashed in secret compartments I've hollowed out in the walls of my home. Sometimes, I pull out a particularly fine example and gaze at it lovingly for hours on end. Once I even tried my hand at doing one of those 'Cat's Cradle' things with some of the yak hair twine, but though the twine was sumptuous, the cradle quickly became rather dangerous and ugly. In more rational moments, as seen in the instance alongside, I used it to better advantage as a photographic backdrop. Pretty... oh, so very, very pretty!

No, its no great surprize this Yak Hair Twine & Brown Paper has become as compelling a subject of interest and speculation (not to mention being a highly prized and sought after commodity, too!) as it has, with annual conventions held and weekly swap meets on each of the continents and collector's books and web lists devoted to its study and sale. The only surprize that's left --not surprizingly-- has to do with whatever it is that might be contained within the wrapping. Those contents --as opposed to the visual feast afforded by the outer packaging-- might be thought of as being a crap shoot, or can be looked upon as playing Russian Roulette with a single-shot gun. But this much is immutable fact: the packaging itself may always be trusted to be of the very highest calibre, and thus is deserved its penultimate praise. Without a doubt, the tactile and visual (not to mention cultural) feast inherent in the Brown Paper and/or the Yak Hair Twine is indeed the stuff of joy! [Owners and collectors take note: I offer top dollar for your most pristine paper. And the yak hair twine? It is especially good as flavoring in a variety of your favorite foods. If you have any you could conceivably be willing to part with, let's talk turkey. Especially high sums may be offered for lengths in excess of one meter!]