"Did I make friends, Mom?" she asks, looking up at her mom with big eyes.
When it's time to go home, Anastasia says goodbye to Maria and Natalya Petrovna, promising to tell her mom about their adventures. As she walks home with her mom, she can't stop talking about her first day of kindergarten.
The year is 1989. Outside the frosted windows of Kindergarten No. 5, the Soviet world is changing. Maps on the walls still show a vast red country, and the morning routine is the same: "Spasibo" for the porridge, quiet hour on small cots, and the smell of wet wool from drying mittens.
This creates a claustrophobic, almost rotting atmosphere. The dampness feels like it is seeping into the characters' souls. It serves as a brilliant metaphor for the state of the Soviet Union in 1989—the ideological "ice" was melting, the foundations were leaking, and everything felt untethered and transitional. The gray, dripping palette makes the film visually distinct from the polished cinema of the West, grounding it in a gritty, uncomfortable realism.
The teacher, Natalya Petrovna, starts the day with a lesson on the alphabet. Anastasia listens intently, trying to repeat the letters after her. She's a bit confused, but Natalya Petrovna is patient and encouraging.
As the day goes on, Anastasia participates in various activities, from singing and dancing to playing with playdough. She's amazed by the variety of things they do in kindergarten and can't wait to tell her mom all about it.
Watching this on OK.ru (Odnoklassniki) adds a layer of authenticity to the experience. The copies available are often untouched by high-definition remastering, preserving the film grain, the hiss of the soundtrack, and the imperfections of the original print. It feels like watching a relic. The comments sections on these videos often reveal a deep nostalgia from viewers who remember the atmosphere of that time, validating the film's accurate capture of the Soviet "byt" (everyday life).