We have a snowy winter here in Russia...
Once, many years ago, we had a street cleaner whose name was Ignatich. He was one of those people whose age is difficult to determine. He can be recognized from afar by a shaggy beard and mustache. He wore the same clothes in the winter and summer: cap with ear-flaps, striped vest, valenki and quilted jacket that never was buttoned up even in the dead of winter. Lacking education, he could argue long about world politics or tell you about the dialectic of Hegel and Kant, sitting in his back room and eating immutable "bullheads in a tomato sauce."
He was building ice-hills and often gave us candies when we were kids.
The MOC representing the moment while Ignatich has a break for a smoking. (not propaganda)
Now completely different people in a different uniform with neat labels "housing employee" on the back operate as street cleaners, but it's another story.
I hope that everything is clear with my English