A Dream of the Rodina

World Adventurer (October 3, 2003 Chautauqua)

   Regular readers of this column are enjoying (I hope) my tale of a rail trip across Russia. As I write these words, I am once again living and working in Korea, in the city of Pohang. I arrived here on August 26th (my birthday) to once again bring the wonder and excitement of the English language to the children of "Wonderland" school.

   Pohang is a relatively small city, by Korean standards, a little over half a million people. It's main industry is steel-making. The plant is a small city itself, stretching many kilometres southwards. As it is on the coast, there is access to some fine sandy beaches.

   In my last column about life in Korea, I was describing the match-making that goes on before a typical wedding. I had promised to follow up with a story about how a traditional Korean wedding takes place, but I was forced to forgo that, as I had not completed my research. I now have that research in hand, and I am ready to tell that story. We will get to it, just as soon as I complete my "saga" of my trip across Russia, and my adventures in Poland.

   I had reached the half-way point in my journey, and the Aleks and I thought it would be a good idea to start mixing our drinks. We started with beer (pronounced "pee-va" in Russian), and continued with vodka, the ubiquitous part of any Russian's lifestyle.

   Alek (no, the other one) had a bottle of cognac to add some more fuel to the fire, and on top of all this went something that I believe they called "balsam." By the end of the evening, we were all reeling off to bed, and if their heads were as big as mine the next day, it was a wonder we were all able to fit in one compartment. The sun was waaaay too bright as we rolled into Krasnoyarsk (4,104 km from Moscow).

   During the night, we had passed over the Yenisey River, the dividing line between eastern and western Siberia. We were only four hours ahead of Moscow time. During our stop in Krasnoyarsk, not too many of us were stocking up on alcohol. I went for some water and juice, plus the usual homemade food sold by the locals.

   On our way again, we passed the 3,932 km marker, the halfway point between Moscow and Beijing.

   My compartment was now no longer the main gathering place. Alek (no, the other one) had left us the day before, and the two remaining shifted down the car to a compartment with a couple of soldiers and the Japanese girl, Masako.

   There was the usual conversation, card playing, and drinking. I took the opportunity for some quiet time in my own compartment.

A line of con-apts next to the tracks.

Kind of reminded me of Korea.

   I reflected on the scenery we were offered during our trip through towns along the way. It seemed like we were travelling through the worst sections, with trash, run down buildings, and even some encampments of what must have been homeless. These could be seen on all the train platforms, begging from the travellers. There were some pathetic little children involved in this activity as well, trying to look as needy as possible to the wealthiest-looking people they could find.

   Our own train car began to reflect a certain run-down quality, as well. There began to creep in the aroma of unwashed bodies. Everyone was a little rough around the edges as the days on the move began to mount up, laundry became dirtier, and trips to the bathroom became less frequent. Our compartment was not too bad, but just walking past some of the others could make you eyes water.

   There was some music on the train. There were intercoms in the passageway, and in each room, which brought in radio stations from each town we passed. It was an eclectic selection, to say the least. From the latest Madonna tune to up tempo "disco" to what sounded like Russian folk songs.

   We just kept rolling through the "Rodina" (motherland). Past Mariinsk (3,719 km from Moscow) and on into Tayga (3,571 km from Moscow), which has a branch line northwards to the closed (to foreigners) defence-industry city of Tomsk.

   Through these parts, the land is much more settled, with less of the endless forest, and more of the farmsteads set in what the Lonely Planet guide calls a "Cinemascope landscape."

   The great Russian writer, Anton Chekov, wrote in his essay "About Siberia," "You'll be bored from the Urals to the Yenisey. A cold valley, crooked birches, fields, once in a while a lake, snow in May on the barren cheerless banks of the Ob tributaries..." He was writing about the old post road, and some may say the description still holds true. I was still interested in watching it go past, though.

The terminal at Novosibirsk

   At the 3,488 km marker, we passed into another time zone. At the 3,332 km marker, we crossed the Ob River, one of the world's longest. Here we stopped at Novosibirsk (3,343 km from Moscow), Siberia's biggest city. Founded in 1893 because of the railway, it has grown into a large industrial city, and a crucial link between Moscow and the far east. It was 10:00 PM, soon time to turn in for the night.

   While I slept, we passed through Omsk (2,716 km from Moscow), which was the city of another great Russian writer's ( Fyodor Dostoevsky) exile during the 1850's. He had gotten involved with some revolutionaries, and been imprisoned for a time before being sent to the east. After his experiences, he wrote Crime and Punishment. His writing focussed on individual freedom and responsibility, and the infinite worth of the human soul.

   We also passed into a new time zone, and were only two hours ahead of Moscow.

   Just after 8:00 in the morning, we stopped at Yshyn. Our next stop was at 11:15, in Tyumen (2,144 km from Moscow), the oldest city in Siberia. Founded in 1586 near the site of one of the Mongol hordes old cities, it was the hiding place for Lenin's body during World War II.

   The weather had turned grey and rainy. The land was very wet and marshy. Sometimes it seemed like the railbed was the only dry ground in the country. There were still great stretches of forest in between the sometimes isolated farms. I thought I saw some snow mixed in with the rainfall.

   The trip, now into its sixth day, was nearing its end, and the time came to prepare for arrival in Moscow, but not before seeing some of the most interesting places yet.