My small homeland is Tashtagol. The presentation was made by a 5th grade student at school 10 in Tashtagol, Kemerovo region. Olesya Shavrova Project manager Osintseva. - presentation

Tashtagol is a small city and barely visible on the map of our large and vast Motherland. But it was he who became the beginning for me. I was born and raised in this city. All the most important stages in my life are connected with him. All these years, my hometown gave me everything that I and my loved ones needed.

A small, calm town, surrounded by greenery, suitable for everyone who does not strive for a life full of bustle and endless stops in traffic jams.

Tashtagol. Photo by veshurpet (https://fotki.yandex.ru/users/veshurpet/)

Our city is relatively young - 50 years old, for a city the age of a teenager. The closest of the large industrial cities is Novokuznetsk, it is 200 kilometers away from Tashtagol. If previously it was possible to get to Novokuznetsk only by train or commuter train, now every hour from 6:00 to 23:00 buses depart from the central bus station every hour to Novokuznetsk, Mezhdurechensk, Belov or Kemerovo. Those who like to travel by rail can still use its services. But personally, I’m happy with the bus - faster and cheaper.

Recently, in 2008, the road to Turochak was opened; it connects the Kemerovo region and the Altai Territory. And although this road is not paved and is far from ideal, it is constantly backfilled and maintained in satisfactory condition.

Districts and real estate

There are several microdistricts in the city. The area, which 40 years ago was considered the center of the city and Tashtagol itself, is now called Old Tashtagol, and new buildings with the central and longest street of Pospelov are called New Tashtagol.

Tashtagol from above. Photo https://fotki.yandex.ru/users/ch25121976/

Another microdistrict is Shalym, it is somewhat remote from the main part of the city. The large extent of the city, whose population barely exceeds 23 thousand people, is due to the fact that the city is located in the mountains. They surround Tashtagol on all sides, and the mountain rivers are not full of water, but capricious. But, as you know, nothing living can live without water, much less a person.

Apparently, this is why, since 1963, the city of Tashtagol has been located on both banks of the largest river in our region, the Kondoma.

Housing in the city has risen in price over the past few years. And although compared to other cities in the region, our prices for apartments are significantly lower, but the salaries of Tashtagol residents are also relatively low. Even lower than in other cities of Kuzbass. This can be explained by the fact that iron ore mined in the Tashtagol region is not as in demand as coal, and there are no processing enterprises in our city either. That is why all hopes have recently been placed on the development of tourism, skiing and the extraction of manganese ore, deposits of which were found in the area.

Prices are steep, and therefore buying a home, even with a mortgage, is not so easy. But perhaps the situation will soon change for the better. The city continues to be built and there is a corresponding plan; in addition, those who want to build housing themselves can take out a loan at low interest rates and build their dream home.

Links

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There are prospects!

Until recently, only a few knew about Tashtagol. Those who visited their relatives or came to the city on a forced business trip. But those who came to us, even for a short time, were always amazed by the purity of our rivers, virgin forests and air, which could be inhaled deeply, without fear of swallowing fumes and soot.

But apart from the ore mine, which was the city-forming enterprise in Tashtagol, its residents had nowhere to work. After rumors spread throughout the city that the mine would soon be closed for a variety of reasons, many were ready to leave their homes and go wherever they looked in search of luck.

But it didn’t come to that.

The nature of our region is amazing and very diverse. Mountains, forest, clean air. These components provide an excellent opportunity for the development of tourism, which has been observed recently. The press service of the administration of the Kemerovo region claims that the number of tourists visiting Mountain Shoria is growing. In 2011 there were about 300 thousand of them, and during the winter of 2012-2013, the resorts of the Tashtagol region were visited by over half a million tourists.

Ski sports complex. Photo by Swan (https://fotki.yandex.ru/users/e310501/)

This trend gives us hope that our city will soon become one of the prosperous tourist cities. And these are new jobs and a great opportunity for self-realization even for people with great ambitions.

In our city, any resident can open their own business - no matter in what area, the main condition is that it is useful for the residents and profitable for the entrepreneurs themselves. Many people make a wide variety of souvenirs, open souvenir shops, and even organize master classes on making simple but interesting little things.

Climate

Tashtagol has a moderate continental climate with warm summers and cold winters.

Medicine and healthcare

To be honest, one of the disadvantages of our city is the lack of professional doctors in our medical institutions. Although for those who are looking for work and have a medical education, this is a good chance not only to find a job, but also to receive support from the city administration. These lucky people have real hope of getting housing. But ordinary citizens of the city sometimes have to take a bus and go to the nearest city of Novokuznetsk for professional advice or to undergo a comprehensive examination. Everything is relative though. Some go abroad to give birth, some to Moscow, some to Novokuznetsk, but most give birth at home: the children are healthy and the money is intact.

Paying more attention to healthcare, the city administration allocates a lot of budget money for medical equipment, and graduates who wish to study to become doctors and successfully pass the exams at the medical academy receive education at the expense of the city. So to speak, the city is preparing personnel and taking care of its citizens.

Much attention is paid to children's leisure in the city. In addition to the general passion for alpine skiing and snowboarding, a huge number of different clubs and sections are constantly working. If you suddenly decide to come and settle in Tashtagol, you will be pleasantly surprised - you will not have any problems with where to place your child.

An excerpt characterizing Tashtagol

- Ah, Timokhin! - said the commander-in-chief, recognizing the captain with the red nose, who suffered for his blue overcoat. It seemed that it was impossible to stretch out more than Timokhin stretched out, while the regimental commander reprimanded him. But at that moment the commander-in-chief addressed him, the captain stood up straight so that it seemed that if the commander-in-chief had looked at him for a little longer, the captain would not have been able to stand it; and therefore Kutuzov, apparently understanding his position and wishing, on the contrary, all the best for the captain, hastily turned away. A barely noticeable smile ran across Kutuzov’s plump, wound-disfigured face. “Another Izmailovo comrade,” he said. - Brave officer! Are you happy with it? – Kutuzov asked the regimental commander. And the regimental commander, reflected as in a mirror, invisibly to himself, in a hussar officer, shuddered, came forward and answered: “Very pleased, Your Excellency.” “We are all not without weaknesses,” said Kutuzov, smiling and moving away from him. “He had a devotion to Bacchus. The regimental commander was afraid that he was to blame for this, and did not answer anything. The officer at that moment noticed the captain’s face with a red nose and a tucked belly and imitated his face and pose so closely that Nesvitsky could not stop laughing. Kutuzov turned around. It was clear that the officer could control his face as he wanted: the minute Kutuzov turned around, the officer managed to make a grimace, and after that take on the most serious, respectful and innocent expression. The third company was the last, and Kutuzov became thoughtful, apparently remembering something. Prince Andrei stepped out from his retinue and said quietly in French: “You ordered a reminder of the demoted Dolokhov in this regiment.” -Where is Dolokhov? – asked Kutuzov. Dolokhov, already dressed in a soldier’s gray overcoat, did not wait to be called. The slender figure of a blond soldier with clear blue eyes stepped out from the front. He approached the commander-in-chief and put him on guard. - Claim? – Kutuzov asked, frowning slightly. “This is Dolokhov,” said Prince Andrei. - A! - said Kutuzov. “I hope this lesson will correct you, serve well.” The Lord is merciful. And I will not forget you if you deserve it. Blue, clear eyes looked at the commander-in-chief as defiantly as at the regimental commander, as if with their expression they were tearing apart the veil of convention that so far separated the commander-in-chief from the soldier. “I ask one thing, Your Excellency,” he said in his sonorous, firm, unhurried voice. “Please give me a chance to make amends for my guilt and prove my devotion to the Emperor and Russia.” Kutuzov turned away. The same smile in his eyes flashed across his face as when he turned away from Captain Timokhin. He turned away and winced, as if he wanted to express that everything that Dolokhov told him, and everything that he could tell him, he had known for a long, long time, that all this had already bored him and that all this was not at all what he needed . He turned away and headed towards the stroller. The regiment disbanded in companies and headed to assigned quarters not far from Braunau, where they hoped to put on shoes, dress and rest after difficult marches. -You don’t lay claim to me, Prokhor Ignatyich? - said the regimental commander, driving around the 3rd company moving towards the place and approaching Captain Timokhin, who was walking in front of it. The regimental commander’s face expressed uncontrollable joy after a happily completed review. - The royal service... it’s impossible... another time you’ll end it at the front... I’ll apologize first, you know me... I thanked you very much! - And he extended his hand to the company commander. - For mercy's sake, general, do I dare! - answered the captain, turning red with his nose, smiling and revealing with a smile the lack of two front teeth, knocked out by the butt under Ishmael. - Yes, tell Mr. Dolokhov that I will not forget him, so that he can be calm. Yes, please tell me, I kept wanting to ask how he is, how he is behaving? And that’s all... - Very serviceable in his service, Your Excellency... but the charterer... - said Timokhin. - What, what character? – asked the regimental commander. “Your Excellency finds, for days,” said the captain, “that he is smart, learned, and kind.” It's a beast. He killed a Jew in Poland, if you please... “Well, yes, well,” said the regimental commander, “we must still feel sorry for the young man in misfortune.” After all, great connections... So you’re the one... “I’m listening, Your Excellency,” Timokhin said, smiling, making it feel like he understood the boss’s wishes. - Yes Yes. The regimental commander found Dolokhov in the ranks and reined in his horse. “Before the first task, epaulets,” he told him. Dolokhov looked around, said nothing and did not change the expression of his mockingly smiling mouth. “Well, that’s good,” continued the regimental commander. “The people each have a glass of vodka from me,” he added so that the soldiers could hear. – Thank you everyone! God bless! - And he, overtaking the company, drove up to another. “Well, he’s really a good man; “You can serve with him,” said subaltern Timokhin to the officer walking next to him. “One word, the king of hearts!... (the regimental commander was nicknamed the king of hearts),” the subaltern officer said, laughing. The happy mood of the authorities after the review spread to the soldiers. The company walked cheerfully. Soldiers' voices were talking from all sides. - What did they say, crooked Kutuzov, about one eye? - Otherwise, no! Totally crooked. - No... brother, he has bigger eyes than you. Boots and tucks - I looked at everything... - How he, my brother, looks at my feet... well! I think... - And the other Austrian, with him, was as if smeared with chalk. Like flour, white. I tea, how they clean ammunition! - What, Fedeshow!... did he say that when the fighting began, you stood closer? They all said that Bunaparte himself stands in Brunovo. - Bunaparte is worth it! he's lying, you fool! What he doesn’t know! Now the Prussian is rebelling. The Austrian, therefore, pacifies him. As soon as he makes peace, then war will open with Bunaparte. Otherwise, he says, Bunaparte is standing in Brunovo! That's what shows that he's a fool. Listen more. - Look, damn the lodgers! The fifth company, look, is already turning into the village, they will cook porridge, and we still won’t reach the place. - Give me a cracker, damn it. - Did you give me tobacco yesterday? That's it, brother. Well, here we go, God be with you. “At least they stopped, otherwise we won’t eat for another five miles.” “It was nice how the Germans gave us strollers.” When you go, know: it’s important! “And here, brother, the people have gone completely rabid.” Everything there looked as if it were a Pole, everything belonged to the Russian crown; and now, brother, he’s gone completely German. – Songwriters forward! – the captain’s cry was heard. And twenty people ran out from different rows in front of the company. The drummer began to sing and turned his face to the songwriters, and, waving his hand, began a drawn-out soldier’s song, which began: “Isn’t it dawn, the sun has broken...” and ended with the words: “Then, brothers, there will be glory for us and Kamensky’s father...” This song was composed in Turkey and was now sung in Austria, only with the change that in place of “Kamensky’s father” the words were inserted: “Kutuzov’s father.” Having torn off these last words like a soldier and waving his hands, as if he was throwing something to the ground, the drummer, a dry and handsome soldier of about forty, looked sternly at the soldier songwriters and closed his eyes. Then, making sure that all eyes were fixed on him, he seemed to carefully lift with both hands some invisible, precious thing above his head, held it like that for several seconds and suddenly desperately threw it: Oh, you, my canopy, my canopy! “My new canopy...”, twenty voices echoed, and the spoon holder, despite the weight of his ammunition, quickly jumped forward and walked backwards in front of the company, moving his shoulders and threatening someone with his spoons. The soldiers, waving their arms to the beat of the song, walked with long strides, involuntarily hitting their feet. From behind the company the sounds of wheels, the crunching of springs and the trampling of horses were heard.