A long ride

Krasnoyarsk train station

A quick note: this post was written “on the fly” so the entire entry will be presented in the present tense. It is easier to write for long stretches of train rides with my laptop on the dining table next to the window in my compartment, freely writing about experiences as they are happening. [But how exciting! You can take the ride with me!]

I’m back on No. 349, the Chita to Moscow train, bound for Yekaterinburg. And by some stroke of luck, all the drunks from the night ride from Irkutsk and beyond got off the train in Krasnoyarsk as I and a few others got on. The train is quiet so far. I thought even that I might have the compartment to myself but the train stopped in Krasnoyarsk for about thirty minutes, and at the last minute two guys entered my compartment. The first, a man in his thirties in a business suit, removed his coat, put a small duffel bag under the seat, and sat down. A moment later, a young man with a big fur hat did the same. They were both locals, taking the train a short distance to the outlying villages while I was the sole overnighter. The providnista, for the first time in my Russian train experience, thought it amusing I was a foreigner and this time I was not characteristically met with a scowl and considered thereon a nuisance, but instead met by a helpful woman who helped me find my compartment after I helped her figure out my passport. The men across from me figured out quickly I was a foreigner and pretty much ignored me for their short journeys. They made small talk for a few hours with each other in Russian and after some eavesdropping I was able to discern via my improving language skills (but don’t be fooled into thinking I can speak any - I still can’t) that one was a man doing business in the city for a few days and the other was a young electrician working on the railroad.
But they are both gone now and I am starting to write this entry from my empty compartment on a quiet train. This is leaving me plenty of time to window gaze and read. I feel like Paul Theroux and his literary train ride through the world. I’m currently reading Ian Frazier’s “Travels in Siberia”, published a few years ago, which is appropriate (and a very interesting, well written account of the region). The train, after pulling out of Krasnoyarsk station, has entered into deep forest. The sun is slowly setting here and soon, I’ve read, streaks of the setting sun will push through the dense rows of endless trees in shreds, beacons of light through the forest. And I think the vast majority of my trip, until late tomorrow night, will look like this. This portion of the journey is by far my longest in one, single stretch of train track. It crosses the endless Siberian taiga that makes up the heart of Siberia. Lots and lots of trees and snow and very, very few people. Railway villages have popped up here and there but by and large, this is the portion, although beautiful, that people simply cross. For me, it’s the great expanse of the globe that will take me out of Asia and into Europe.

I don’t know how long I will have the compartment to myself. Maybe the whole ride, maybe just until our next stop (Mariinsk, in a few hours) or until our next city (Novosibirsk, tonight at midnight), but for now I am going to enjoy the peace and solitude of the empty Siberian expanse and continue to read and think. A peaceful afternoon in an altogether hectic past few weeks.

Last night, before I left the hostel, I downloaded some music for the ride. I chose a thorough (and inexpensive - the non-hits are cheap) collection of hits from the old Soviet era Red Army Choir and some new Russia top 20 hits - chiefly dance trance techno stuff as described in an earlier post. In my solitude, I decided to pop in the Red Army Choir music collection while staring out the window into a darkening Siberia (but fear not! I’ve spent a lot of time in post and current Communist countries, but I’m true blue!). The music has an interesting effect and it seems very appropriate based on the location. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Red Army Choir, but it was the official military choir of the Soviet “Red Army” that became the music one associates so well with the USSR. It features in old Cold War movies like (what’s the one with Denzel Washington and Harrison Ford and the submarines - U-571, Das Boot, Down Periscope?). The album I downloaded is a collection of the original recordings of some of the more popular tunes that the choir sang. Some are anthems, some are folk tunes, some are operatic, etc. The Red Army Choir takes a very unique approach to music which I think is why it has resonated so distinctly in musical history. Rather than making much of an attempt at harmony or even emphasizing a clever melody, the choir instead took the approach of assembling dozens of burly military men and made them shout red-themed tunes in unison. It sounds simple but the effect is powerful and exemplifies, at least in my mind, the USSR so well. It’s like if they blared this music somehow over loudspeakers across the nation, peasants in Siberia would all dutifully stand at attention for some reason. And by comparison, Russia is and was known famously for its mastery of the classical performance arts like the orchestra, ballet, theater, etc. The Red Army was on its own page.

Anyway, we hit a snowstorm. We’ve entered a white-out of flurries that are scrambling the view of the dark greens of the forest. It’s quite nice. Snow storms slow cars down but trains just plow on through. It feels like Christmas again.

Nobody joined me in Mariinsk. We were at the station for about 20 minutes so I had plenty of time to hop off the train, head outside and stretch my legs. It was half past 6, the sun gave way to dark cloud cover and snow fell magically around the station. There is a very strong, calming effect a soft snow storm can create, even amongst a bustling train station. I walked across the platform to a small kiosk where I bought some Coke and a Snickers bar to subsidize my train diet of bread and cheese (it’s not as bad as it sounds - Russian bakeries make some good bread and the dairy products in Siberia are superb. Once again, I’m seeing signs of a dwindling Asian presence everywhere). Others joined me on the platform for a silent, shivering smoke. Industrial trains slowly pulled in around us, screeching to a halt as other passenger trains jolted to a start and slowly disappeared into the white beyond. The horn blew. We re-embarked.

My view, as stated before, is of the Russian taiga. The taiga is the largest single forest in the world. It stretches from the Ural Mountains in the west, to beyond Lake Baikal in the east, fades to frozen tundra in the north around the Arctic Circle, and fades to the Gobi Desert and Mongolian Steppe in the south. The forest is home to tigers, bears, leopards, and all kinds of unique species. And as far as I have been able to tell, the forest consists of two types of trees: evergreen pine trees and white birch trees. The dense trees give way on occasion to frozen lakes and ponds and, at times, wide fields of tall albeit dead grass. There are no signs of settlement apart from the few and distant villages that pop up every few hours along the tracks that were mainly built to service trains. And traditional, settled Siberian cities are separated each by about a day’s travel by train. Everywhere is covered in several feet of fresh snow. A winter wonderland.

We pulled into Novosibirsk last night around midnight and I was joined by three members finally to fill my compartment. Two guys in there twenties who took the upper two bunks, and a woman in her early thirties, who took the lower bunk beside mine. It was midnight though, and I was sort of sleeping so I kind of just laid there while the others got settled. I stepped out of the compartment for a little while for a stretch and a yawn when the provodnista arrived with their sheets and blankets and gave them room to make beds for themselves. Then I returned to sleep.

The two guys left early in the morning at what I believe was Omsk, the last city we’ll pass before arriving in Yekaterinburg. But the woman next to me remained and all in all slept the entire day away. We never really spoke. In fact, she didn’t even know I was a foreigner until she asked me something I didn’t understand about 12 hours after she entered the compartment. She kept mostly to herself and wasn’t a bother.

The whole car was mostly like this in fact. I awoke naturally from the sunlight beaming through the window of the compartment but the rest of the train car was still fast asleep. And most of the day and into the afternoon, all that could be heard was the occasional sliding of a door to let someone walk to the bathroom, and the general clinking of tea glasses in nearby compartments. The snow storm had ceased and gave way to sun. But all in all the landscape was much the same as yesterday. I continued to window gaze and read all morning.

I decided to get a proper meal though in the early afternoon. I had eaten some yogurt and light pastries that I had brought along with me and two cups of coffee. I was getting hungry and wanted to explore in any event. I prepared my best Russian and went up to the friendly provodnista and asked, “Izvenitye, gdye restoran?” which means, “Excuse me, where is the dining car?” Of course I didn’t exactly understand her reply but I understood the direction she was pointing. It turned out the dining car was just the next car over from mine (car no. 5). I walked in to what looked like an American diner on wheels. 50’s style seats and dining tables made up most of the car and a small bar fully stocked with Russian beer and European wine selections was located in the corner. English and Russian language music from the 80’s, synth-y, electronic stuff, softly played from a laptop sitting on the corner of the bar. There was one young Russian man at one of the tables sipping on tea and I went to the bar to look at the menu. Finally, an older Russian man came to me from the kitchen area of the car and said I could sit down, he would bring the menu to me (or what I understood he was saying in Russian). I sat awhile flipping through the menu which was quite extensive. I had read before that the menus in the Russian dining cars were thorough but the kitchens were usually poorly stocked and you could tell if each item was in stock or not if they had written a price next to the item. Well, this menu was loaded with options and everything had a price. A bit overwhelmed, I chose the route I take every time I am forced to make a decision from a complicated menu. I pick the first thing I see. So I ordered a cold dish of herring and onions and a side of fried potatoes. And then I chose a Baltika No. 7, a classic, Russian beer.

The meal was excellent. I was given a small, cold dish of sliced herring (a salty fish) with sliced, raw onions, cooked peas, and doused in olive oil with a little salt. With it came some bread. It was really very good (but I have serious onion breath now - a good way to impress my host if and when she picks me up). Then afterward, I was given a plate of fried potatoes, cut like french fries, sitting atop a dish of olive oil and salt and with some fresh cucumbers and tomatoes as garnish. A very good meal. While I was eating a few others joined the dining car for a meal including the dining car staff who sat at a table nearby and a man who sat in the table in front of me with dark, shallow eyes, and turning around to me asked, “cigaryeta?” putting two fingers to his lips. I said, “Huh? Ah, nyet, nyet.” He turned back around.

My meal in the dining car of cold herring and onions

and fried potatoes (aka french fries)

Me in the dining car, a bit ragged after two days on the train

I ate, paid, and before I left, stopped to take a few photos of the dining car. One of the staff members, a bigger, middle aged lady said to me, “photo?” pointing at me to indicate that she would take one of me at the booth. I said, “prazhalsta, spaceba” or “please, thanks” and she took my camera and gave it to the guy who needed his cigarette fix and after a few attempts at my complicated camera, snapped a few of me at my table. I thanked them, they were amused, and returned to my compartment one car over, to find my compartment mate fast asleep.

Most of the day was much the same. Lot’s of lounging and staring out of windows. I continued to make headway in “Travels in Siberia”, where the author is now starting a an adventure, with the help of two Russian guides, across Siberia by car from St. Petersburg to I guess the Pacific. He, Ian Frazier, an American from Ohio who undertook this journey only a few years ago, stopped at many of the places that I also stopped off at along the train line. He describes the hills of Krasnoyarsk (where I snowboarded) and the beauty of the Yenesei. He also visited Yekaterinburg and Perm, my next two destinations. I also decided to pop in Sigur Ros when my e-reader started to die. I don’t think there is a more appropriate band for frozen, contemplative landscapes.

I am finishing this post off now in the early morning hours of my room in the apartment of my hosts, Lilia and Sasha Tivikova, possibly the nicest people I have ever met. I will talk about my hosts in another, more dedicated post, but my train pulled into Yekaterinburg Station at 11PM local time, and walking down the steep steps of the train car to a frozen platform, was met by an enthusiastic group of four people brandishing a big sign that read, “Stephen” in playful letters. Lilia and Sasha and Sasha’s cousin and her boyfriend drove me back to their apartment where I was easily settled. After weeks of getting off at stations, bunkering down in the cold with a heavy pack over my shoulders, navigating my way by foot across frozen bridges and unfamiliar streets to a hostel I would not be sure was even staffed, this was a welcome reprieve.

I think today the three of us will drive to the forest to find a monument that was built to commemorate the border of Europe and Asia where Tsar Alexander II famously drank a glass of wine on each side (it’s Sunday, they have they day free). Hopefully we find it - it’s snowing outside...