World Adventurer (September 5, 2003 Chautauqua)
My favorite comedy group is "Monty
Python's Flying Circus." One of their sketches takes us to a university in
Australia,
where all of the professors are named "Bruce." When a new instructor
from England
arrives, the main question they have for him is:
"Here, is your name not Bruce?"
"No, it's Michael." he replies.
"That's going to cause a little
confusion. Mind if we call you 'Bruce' to keep it clear?"
"G-day, Bruce!"
I felt a little like that English professor
as I contemplated my travelling companions on the "Russia" train on the
Trans-Siberian railway.
I had met Alek I in the dining car. He spoke
English. It turned out that he was a businessman who had just closed up shop in
Vladivostok, and was going home to Moscow along with his
mother.
We enjoyed some Russian beer, and then some
vodka. There were quite a few other
people in the car, enjoying the local spirits, as well. There were quite a few
Japanese, as the Russian Far East is quite a business and recreation area for
them. They got off the train the next day, lined up and led away by their tour
guides like POWs.
Alek II joined the train a few hours after
we left Vladivostok. He was an older gentleman, long
retired. I was fascinated to hear (through Alek I) that he had joined the Red
Army in 1944 (17 years old!), fought the Germans, and then travelled east
(along this same route) to fight the Japanese.
Alek III came into the compartment in the
middle of that first night. He was a major in the Russian army, commanding a
unit of tanks. All through this trip, soldiers were coming and going, on the
way to their various assignments.
Next door to my compartment, a young family
was travelling. The parents stuck close to their compartment, but their twin
girls were in and out of almost all the others in their search for something to
do. Their names were "Katya" and "Nastia." I had left all
of my teaching toys in Korea,
but I tried to entertain them as best I could. They were more comfortable
hanging out with Alek III, and were constantly imploring him for something or
other, using him as a jungle gym, and so on.
Just down the way, a young Japanese girl
shared a compartment with three soldiers. Her name was Masako, and she was
going to Moscow, St.
Petersburg, and the Baltic countries before heading into Poland.
The soldier that lasted longest in her
compartment was named Sergei (What? Not "Alek?" That's going to
cause...)
Anyway, we were all travelling in the 2nd
class, or kupeyny, carriage, which has nine enclosed compartments. Each has
four berths, a fold-down table, and just enough room to turn around. First
class compartments differ only in the number of berths - two. The lowest class
of accommodation is platskartny, which is a carriage with no compartments, just
bunks ranged along the walls. Privacy is out of the question, and as many as 60
people get used to sharing the space like one big, BIG family.
In my own car, there were two washrooms (one
at each end), with a light in the corridor to show if they were occupied. I
usually rose at about 8:00,
and had no trouble finding an unoccupied lavatory. There is no hot water in the
washroom. It's found in a samovar next
to the providnitsa's compartment. It was
basically a medium-sized water heater. (The providnitsa was the attendant.) I
would fill a thermos, and that would do for my morning wash. There is no plug
for the basin, so I improvised one from a paperweight I had. My last month or
so in Korea
was spent haunting hardware stores, looking for a universal plug. No luck,
though.
The other indispensable necessity that you
must not forget to bring is toilet paper. I had heard that the washroom smell
could be a problem, but the providnitsa's kept it pretty clean.
The train had begun its journey at 5:30 PM on Monday, April 28th.
Time is a relative concept, and no more so
than on this trip. There is a schedule posted in each car, but all of the times
are Moscow time, which is seven hours ahead of Vladivostok. As we
travelled west, we have to adjust to the different times almost every day
(sometimes twice in one day). It makes it a little confusing, and if you are
not careful, you can become disoriented.
There is an amusing story in the
"Lonely Planet" guide about how the writer tried to find out when a
train would depart, Moscow
or local time. The clerk was an example of a typical bureaucrat, who gave
answers that solved nothing.
Vladivostok
is 9,289 km from Moscow,
and we would be passing through 7 time zones. I would have to adjust my watch
almost every day (sometimes twice) besides keeping track of the mileage.
Knowing where you were comes in handy when you are looking forward to a station
stop that would allow for some time off the train.
112 km out of Vladivostok,
we passed through Ussuriysk (9,177 km from Moscow). This town had formerly been named
Nikolskoe, in honour of the Tsar's 1891 visit. At that time it was quite a bit
bigger and more important than Vladivostok.
There is a twice-weekly train to Pyongyang, the
capital of North Korea,
from here.
The first major stop was going to be at 7:30 AM on the second day of our
journey, when we passed through Khabarovsk
(8,531 km from Moscow).
The "Lonely Planet" describes the crossing of the Amur
River as something not to be missed. The train passes over on a
2.5 km bridge, the longest such on the trip. I was up at approximately the
right time, but I missed out on the bridge completely. Maybe we were early, or
maybe the Russians changed the crossing. We did go through an inordinately long
tunnel.
Up until this time, we had been traveling
north. We now turned west, skirting the Chinese border, sometimes coming within
50 km. In earlier, more suspicious times, western travellers would have their
blinds drawn and secured so as to prevent any view into China.
The countryside we passed through now
reminded me quite a bit of Alberta,
or maybe I was just homesick. There were a lot of birch and fir trees, and
would be all the way across Russia.
The land was still emerging from winter. There was a chill in the air, the
grass was brown, and there was still a lot of ice on the rivers. There were
also a lot of tussocks along the way. These grassy clumps were all over the
land like a rash.
44 km from Khabarovsk,
we passed through Volochaevka (8,487 km from Moscow). This was the site of the final
battle of the civil war, when the Soviets established control over the Far East.
129 km further along, we made a short stop
in Birobidzhan (8358 km from Moscow),
the capital of the Jewish Autonomous Region. Stalin had tried to get the Jews
to concentrate in this area, promising them a "homeland" of sorts.
The place is a swamp, and many of the "settlers" refused to stay.
Today they only comprise 7% of the population.
173 km further along we passed from the
Russian Far East into Eastern Siberia, and came one time zone closer to Moscow (still 8,185 km
away).
About 12:30,
we made our first extended stop at Obouchbe, for about 20 minutes. It was my
first opportunity to "raid" the locals for food and drink. There were
quite a few set up along the side of the track, selling various packaged
products, as well as local produce. I bought some grilled chicken and some
dumplings. This was pretty much what I was going to live on. There was also
ramen (Cup o' Noodles) and pozy, which are like meat-filled pastry. Besides
bottled water, I also stocked up on beer, which came in plastic litre bottles.
Very cheap, and very good.
The Belogorsk terminal, with locals selling their wares
There was another long stop at Belogorsk
(7,873 km from Moscow),
at about 5:30 PM, and
another at 11:30, at
Mogocha. At this stop, I nearly froze my heinie off. It was COLD! but I did not
hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity to get off the train. There was
not going to be much of that on this trip.
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