I called my last post, "From Beijing to Moscow." It should have been called, "From Beijing to Irkutsk" since Irktusk, Russia was as far as I got in the blog post. This post will cover the trip from Irkutsk to Moscow, a journey of over 3300 miles that took 82 hours at an average speed (if it can be called "speed") of 39 mph. The train stopped at every town, burg, and crossroad.
Forest Gump's mother was so right. "Life is like a box of chocolates," especially when you are on a train for four days in a four berth coupe (compartment) with people frequently getting on and off.
THE MAN IN 5-19
I boarded train # 069 on June 11, at 17:30 and found "vagon" (car) 5 and "mect" (seat) 19. I had feared my perch for the four nights would be an upper berth which, getting onto, required more dexterity that I possessed. Lucky for me, berth 19 was one of the lower ones.
To say that Russia is a vast land mass would be a huge understatement.. Let me quote from a travel book (Bryn Thomas, "Trans-Siberian Handbook" 8th edition, 2011):
Russia...remains the largest country in the world, incorporating 17,175 sq km (over 6.5 million square miles) and stretching from well into the Arctic Circle right down to the northern Caucasus in the south, and from the Black Sea in the west to the Bering Strait in the east, only a few kilometres from Alaska. Russia is twice as big as the USA; the UK could fit into this vast country 69 times.
Keeping up with the time was a challenge. Since I am traveling East to West I am gaining an hour almost every day (like going from Knoxville to Nashville). Russia has eight time zones, but the train schedules are all on Moscow time, MT (four hours ahead of Greenwich Mean Time (GMT)). The time in Irkutsk, for example, is MT+5. Somewhat confusing, but hey, I had time to figure it out. In Stockholm today I am only one hour ahead of GMT.
The view of the vast Siberian wilderness is limited when seen through a train window. Two words and one photo will capture this landscape: BIRCH TREES
VIEW FROM TRAIN WINDOW
Life on the train was infinitely more interesting than the landscape. People getting on and off the train, getting settled in their compartments, eating, talking, sleeping, and passing time as creatively as possible. During my four days on the train I had ten compartment companions. Not only did we share close quarters (read cramped), we shared stories about ourselves (home, family, work, travel), information about the journey, and we shared food. Whatever anyone had brought along to eat was shared. People were very generous, open, and often very funny. We laughed a lot. There seemed to be what might be called a "ritual of discovery." Hello, my name is Clinton, what is your name? Where are you from? Where are you going? Are you traveling alone? Do you work? What do you do? etc.
I discovered that using my first name, Clinton, got a much better response than just Mack. Ahhh, President Clinton. And Nashville always was recognized: Ahhh, country music. Johnny Cash.
Here are four people who enriched my four days on the train:
LENA
Lena boarded the train in Zima and got off in Omsk. She spoke very little English, but made efforts to understand and communicate. She was married and had a daughter eight years old. Of interest to me, she raised chickens and brought hard boiled eggs along. She generously shared the eggs. I hated to see her go (as with most of my companions).
VLADIMIR
Vladimir was a large, muscular, jovial man from Moscow. He spoke English very haltingly, but kept trying. I, of course, spoke perfect Russian...NOT! The phrase I did learn and use a lot was "spasibo" which means "thank you." Every time I said spasibo to Vladimir for a kindness he would respond in his deep-voiced Russian accent, "Don't mention it!" It soon became a joke.
Vladimir was a very devout member of the Russian Orthodox Church and carried laminated cards of saints, patriarchs, and a photograph of the last Tsar, Nicholas II, and his family which he gave me as a souvenir. At one point he asked me, "DO YOU BELIEVE IN GOD?" Hoping not to offend this Russian bear, I said meekly, "I'm not sure, Vladimir." Again, in that deep accented voice, he said, "You should believe in God!" Ok Vladimir, I'll try. We were the only two in our coupe the last day and a half.
He hugged me goodbye when we got to Moscow.
ANDREW
Andrew was a fifteen year old boy from Irkutsk who was traveling with his mother to Moscow. They were in the next compartment but Andrew started hanging our with Vladimir and me. He told me he made 5's (the highest grade) in his English class. His English was pretty good and he became Vladimir's interpreter. When he couldn't think of an English he would rub his head and say,"How do you say...?" until it came to him. I asked him what he wanted to be when he finished school. He said a policeman. I said No Andrew. You are too smart to be a policeman. You should be a scientist. You could be a cosmonaught and go to the space station. He seemed to like me and just before we got to Moscow he came in and said, "I brought you a present." He handed me three small squares of chocolate.. I gave him a ball point pen.
SERGEI V.
Sergei came into our compartment late one night after Lena and I had gone to sleep. He made hardly a sound, unlike two boorish men a few nights earlier. I took a peek at him and noticed he had placed a small animal carrier in the corner of his berth and placed a sheet over it. I thought to myself that he must be a good man to care that much for his pet. Soon he was asleep with the carrier tucked behind his legs. I was up early next morning eager to discover who our new companion was and what he was carrying. But my two mates, Lena and the stranger, slept on. Finally I saw Lena's feet and legs appear from the upper berth and watched her swing down with the agility of a gymnist. Soon our new companion was also up. We said, "Good morning," and began the "ritual of discovery." I said, "This is Lena and I am Clinton. What is your name?" In perfect English he said, "My name is Sergei." Curiosity got the best of me and I asked what he had in his animal carrier. Sergei said,"Its my cat." That pleased me. He pulled back the sheet, opened the carrier and a small white face with a black mustache appeared. As she emerged further, very warily, I saw, to my amazement, that she was a Calico cat, very much like Miss Priss. "What is her name?" I asked. "Sonja," Sergei said. "Her name is Sonja."
Lena left the train at Omsk. Sergei said he was going to Ishim. That would be about six more hours. His English was very good. He told me he had been a sea captain and had traveled the world. He was from a town near Vladivostoc originally called "America." A little ironic. He was taking Sonja to stay with his parents while he and his wife traveled some more. Over the next few hours we talked of longitude, the Suez Canal, religion, literature, Russian history, and more. He said when you travel to other parts of the world and see how other people live, it makes you question your own culture...whether "Our way" is the only way. It makes you think, "Maybe I need to change." He told me about getting a health check-up in Singapore when he was visiting his older son. Why not in Russia I asked. He said, "We have a good health system, but I don't trust the Russian system." I laughed and said I wouldn't tell anyone he said that. He also laughed and said, "Thats ok." He liked Obama and said the new president had greatly improved the American image abroad. Bush was not good for America, or the world, he said.
As he was leaving the train we parted with a warm handshake. I said, "I am discovering a downside of travel. It is the sadness of parting with a new friend you know you will probably never see again. Maybe I'll write about that and call it, "The Joy and Sadness of Brief Encounters."
I was reviewing some photographs and noticed the series of replacing the train's engine. I made a collage of five images and think of it as a theme of this trip I'm on. Metaphorically, I call it MAKING CONNECTIONS. That is, after all, what travel...and life...is all about.
BAYAR-TAI
A METAPHOR
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.JPG)
.jpg)
.jpg)
