His home is like a zoological museum, and his collection of taxidermied animals is the second-largest in Belarus. We visited a taxidermist, a traveler, and a romantic.

Gennady Puzankevich News Topics: Over 20 countries, two mountain climbs, a 10,000 km bike marathon, and three car rallies, the longest at 27,000 km. The hero of our project, 66, is not only a daring traveler who has lived with cannibals for weeks and climbed mountains in shale, but also one of the country's best taxidermists. Upon meeting him, you realize you're dealing with a man with a subtle sense of humor, philosophical depth, a tireless explorer, and a romantic.
Collection #2
 
: Gennady Konstantinovich lives in his own house in Zhodino, the design of which he conceived while serving in the army and, upon his return, brought to life almost single-handedly. He was born here, but back then, the area was the village of Sudobovka, and is now part of the city. Four children grew up in this house, two of whom he and his wife adopted.

The beautiful wooden two-story house immediately attracts attention. Young residents of Zhodino know it better as a zoological museum. Schoolchildren are brought to Gennady Puzankevich's home so they can learn about the amazing world of animals, birds, and insects, not only in Belarus but across the planet. The main difference: the birds, animals, and insects are presented as taxidermy. This is a special delight for visitors: they can examine them closely and even "look into their eyes."
His fascination with taxidermy began in childhood, when Gena, a boy, wanted to "breathe life" into a dead bird. 

"I had no idea how it was done. I had no access to literature," recalls our hero. "Later, I learned that my grandmother had been doing this before the war, but she died early. My mother only told me how she taught me to skin and stuff it." In 1974, the first taxidermy was completed, and it is still in the collection.
Gennady Konstantinovich is a forester by profession. He graduated from the Borisov Forestry College, then completed courses in ecology and game management at the Belarusian State Agrarian and Technical University. While working in the forestry department, the first cooperatives were being established in the country. He was offered the opportunity to organize a taxidermy cooperative—the only one of its kind in the republic. The products were sold to hunting stores and used as visual aids in schools and other educational institutions. Today, the works of master craftsman Puzankevich and his assistants can be seen in the exhibitions of the Pripyat and Berezinsky Nature Reserves, as well as in Belovezhskaya Pushcha.

"Then the cooperatives closed, I took other jobs, and this remained as a part-time job," our hero comments.

Currently, Gennady Puzankevich's personal collection, not counting insects, numbers 705 specimens and is registered with the Ministry of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection. And what's remarkable is that it's number two, the first being held by BSU.
"It's all official," our hero emphasizes, explaining how lifeless animalsAnd birds end up in his care: electricians find birds under high-voltage lines, emergency workers bring in injured animals, hunters share trophies, zoos donate rare pets that have died, and ordinary citizens bring in animals. He doesn't stuff pets—he warns everyone about this upfront. His collection has been amassed for decades. Among the exhibits are many endangered species: a white-tailed eagle, a peregrine falcon, a brown bear… He has a special permit for their storage. Among the largest stuffed animals are a bear, a crocodile, and even two: a Nile crocodile and an alligator.
"With today's technology and internet access, making a simple stuffed animal isn't particularly difficult," notes Gennady Konstantinovich. "The hardest part is getting the animal to pose so it looks lifelike. Of course, you need to know biology, anatomy, and habits to properly highlight the muscles, and you need to be patient enough to arrange the feathers with tweezers."
"How long can stuffed animals be stored?" we ask.

"There are exhibits in St. Petersburg that Peter the Great brought from abroad. And they are still in good condition!" he replies. "Of course, all these exhibits require proper care.

The most harmful insects to stuffed animals are skin beetles, moths, and direct sunlight, which fades their feathers and fur."

​​A childhood dream came true and he returned alive.

Next to the stuffed animals, vibrant photographs from around the world hang in Gennady Puzankevich's house—our hero also took them. 

"I hung them for schoolchildren so they could see other animals and the lives of different peoples," explains Gennady Konstantinovich.
After each long trip, he held photo exhibitions in Zhodino, which were visited by hundreds of his fellow countrymen. It's always more interesting to hear firsthand stories about the lives of cannibals, mountain climbs, or bike trips of over 10,000 km. It's unlikely that there are any daredevils capable of repeating such a thing.
"I've probably had a passion for travel since childhood. As far back as I can remember, even as a little kid, I'd crawl away from the garden and observe every little bug," says Gennady Konstantinovich.

When he started studying geography at school, distant lands began to beckon: the tropics, the rich world of plants and animals. But for a Soviet citizen, this was almost unattainable.
His first trip abroad didn't take place until 2000, when Gennady Puzankevich turned 40.

"For New Year's, January 1st—my birthday, and the century was changing—my wife and I flew to Sri Lanka. It was an organized tour; traveling on our own was unthinkable," says our hero. "What were your impressions? Simply wow! We had freezing temperatures, and there it was hot, green, birds singing. It was like being in paradise."

Five years later, he began planning his own trips. My daughter Elena searched online for cheap tickets and accommodation. He doesn't speak any foreign languages, so sign language, a pencil andPaper .

"I know in advance what I want to see in a country. And I decide on the way to achieve this on the spot," admits our hero.

Each country offers him unique experiences. He was greatly impressed by the fauna of Madagascar. 
"There are 110 species of lemurs there. They don't hide because hunting them is prohibited, and there are almost no natural predators. You enter the forest, and you don't know who's watching whom: you watching the lemurs or they watching you. They come down from the trees and study you. For a wildlife photographer, it's a real Klondike," emphasizes Gennady Puzankevich.

He was also impressed by the richness of the flora and fauna of the island of Kalimantan, where our hero spent two months each. Unique animals live there, such as proboscis monkeys and orangutans. There, he also climbed Mount Kinabalu, the highest point in Southeast Asia at 4,095 meters.

But it's not only nature that captures the heart of Gennady Konstantinovich. 

"The people in Malaysia are very kind. You meet people on the street and they greet you with a smile. I've never seen anyone drunk. I lived in a tent on the shore of the Indian Ocean. The local guides said, 'You can sleep on a park bench, no one will bother you.' In the Philippines and Madagascar, when I ate at locals' houses, they gave me a lot for free," says our hero.

Belarusians are especially interested in visiting a cannibal tribe. It was a dream born in school geography lessons. And it was very difficult to realize; no one takes tourists there.
"A friend from a travel agency called one day and said, 'There are some crazy people like you flying. I'll give you their number.' We called and discussed everything. We only met at the airport; we traveled on six planes," recalls Gennady Puzankevich.

Curiously, when they were traveling there, they didn't know that several months before their arrival, Papuans had killed and eaten an Australian tourist and two agitators.

"But these are extremely rare cases. You have to try really hard to provoke something like that," says our hero, explaining the rules of communication with these Papuans. "You can't speak loudly, gesticulate sharply, or argue. It's strictly forbidden to offer them alcohol—they don't have the gene to break it down, so they become insane. The slightest sudden movement and they grab spears. We bought a pig and gave it to the tribe. Everything went well, we returned alive. My curiosity was satisfied. "

Gennady Konstantinovich considers the bike marathon from Zhodino to Vladivostok to be his most difficult trip, not the jungle expedition.

"The danger lies in the narrow roads and dense traffic." Trucks, driven by oncoming air, throw you to the side of the road. Or, conversely, pull you in. At first, I thought: why did I get involved in this? Then I decided: come what may. I made it in a little over three months on a simple bicycle without gears, with a tent and some luggage.

The main results of the trip?

"I achieved my goal, fulfilled a childhood dream, and came back alive," our hero laughs. He adds that cycling allows you to experience nature: the changing habitats from steppe to taiga, mountain rivers, and the wind. "Wherever I liked, I stopped and chatted with the locals. They generally greeted me warmly, helped me, and treated me to food."
To date, Gennady Puzankevich has visited more than 20 countries, 15 of which are tropical.
"That's only about 10% of all the countries in the world. I don't strive for quantity. If I like a country, like Malaysia, I've been there three times, and Borneo twice. Otherwise, wherever cheap tickets turn up, I can fly," our hero admits.

"My feet aren't afraid of the cold."

Flip-flops are Gennady Puzankevich's favorite footwear. He wears them while building houses, shoveling snow in the yard in freezing winter temperatures, and has climbed mountain peaks. They asked him to recall his ascent of Africa's highest peak, Kilimanjaro.

"They won't let you climb Kilimanjaro without special equipment. I had my boots and all the necessary gear. But we left the last base camp, above 5,000 meters, at night. The guides checked my shoes, and I changed into my boots. And when everyone turned their backs, I put my flip-flops back on and threw the boots in my backpack. My feet aren't afraid of the cold; I felt great in my flip-flops. Halfway up, they didn't notice anything—it was night, after all. Then they started making a fuss. The interpreter explained that I was an adult and that if anything happened, I could change my shoes. That's how I made it to the summit. To be honest, in the last 500 meters, I didn't have the strength to change my shoes. Altitude sickness was taking its toll. The ascent was accelerated, not in 5 days, but in 3. My body didn't have time to adapt to the thin air. By hook or by crook, I was the only one in the group who made it to the top. Incidentally, it was -15 degrees at the top. I reached it, descended, and didn't deviate from the path," our hero shared his memories.

Gennady is confident: he practically doesn't need other footwear. And his son walks around barefoot in flip-flops in the cold. Is this a trend, a fashion, or a peculiarity of the Puzankevich family? 
"When people ask, I sometimes joke: if your head is frostbitten, your feet are no longer afraid," our hero laughs. "But in reality, our family came to this consciously. The children were small and often caught colds. We began to toughen them up; they even asked to run naked in the snow. And to set an example, my wife and I began swimming in the ice hole ourselves. And the children stopped getting sick. I still continue my morning exercises in the mornings, walking barefoot in flip-flops at any time of year. But the bath is only after the banya. So, at 66, Gennady Puzankevich feels great and ready for new adventures.

"They know you can't keep me at home."

Living and enjoying life—those are Gennady Puzankevich's plans for his remaining years on this earth. He dreams of visiting the Galapagos Islands, Brazil, and the Amazon. And of sailing around the world.

"After my bicycle trip to Vladivostok, I received a text message from someone who, it turns out, had been following my trip online: 'Let's sail around the world on a yacht, we'll discuss the details.' It was unexpected," our hero admits.

His family has already come to terms with the fact that their father and husband often travels alone. 
"They know I can't be kept at home," admits Gennady Konstantinovich. "And not everyone can travel with me. My son, however, was the last time I went with him in the car. Now I'm freelance, a pensioner. But before, I'd plan a trip, write my resignation, travel for two or three months, come back, and get another job."

He's already preparing his bike for a new marathon, but for now, his car has become his faithful transportation. He's ridden 27,000 km alone, including Vladivostok, Kazakhstan , Arkhangelsk, and the Kola Peninsula. His 2025 route with his son, Viktor, was: Tyumen, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan , and then home.

Unfortunately, Gennady Konstantinovich doesn't have any social media where we could virtually follow him on his travels.

"That takes a lot of time, and I don't have it. I don't consider myself a public figure," says our hero, although his photography exhibitions are always sold out.

However, he's been keeping a diary since 1974—over 50 years now. Laughing, he calls it "the diary of a madman," and remarks: "I thought when I got old, I'd write my memoirs." So, Gennady Konstantinovich is still young at heart, accumulating memories for a series of captivating novels.

"What do you get from traveling?" we ask at the end of our conversation. "It changes your worldview." When you're cut off from civilization, under intense physical and psychological stress, you begin to perceive life differently. You realize how little time we find to spend with family, loved ones, and friends. And we often realize it too late. Other trips offer pure enjoyment, a spiritual uplift, a renewed interest in life, a desire to live and discover new things. "If there's no purpose, then it's not life, it's just existence. This becomes especially apparent with age," our hero observes philosophically. 

Svetlana KIRSANOVA, 

photo by Vitaly PIVOVARCHIK.

The project was funded by a targeted collection for national content production.