Sputnik Adventures

Hey Sputniki, hopscotching my way through the Vertical Stripes Tour to tell you about Ufa, where I spent two days en route to Kazan. This was the easternmost point in my travels, ten time zones east of home in Indiana, and about one hour’s drive shy of the border between Europe and Asia. This is the capital of the Republic of Bahkortostan, an autonomous republic within Russia. Although Russian is widely spoken, I regularly heard Bashkiri, a Turkic language, on the streets and in the shops. I was shocked after the oppressive dry heat of Crimea to slam suddenly into drizzly, coldish weather here, but plowed ahead along with many Ufa stalwarts to take in a football game. The rain mercifully let up that evening, and the fans were clearly stoked against rivals from neighboring Oryol. Ufa’s fighting Nyeftyaniks (‘Oilers’; perhaps Ufa is Houston’s sister city) carried the day, so all was well in town that night. My hotel was incredibly cheap, but then again so was the breakfast that awaited each morning. Usually breakfasts are a great deal here, coming as a package with the hotel–this one was bitter roots and a dollop of sour cream. My cholesterol level probably now hovers at around 800.

Overall, Ufa’s green and friendly, and will be visited again. This is necessary as I’m working to connect every place on the planet I’ve ever visited. The connection must be made by rail, boat, road etc (i.e. planes don’t count). The rules permit me to fly somewhere to reconnect the thread, and on a future trip I’ll probably fly to Ekaterinburg, the westernmost Siberian outpost, to link things up and continue the journey. The Vertical Stripes Tour joins two large chains for me, linking every place in European Russia I’ve visited, several former Soviet and Eastern Bloc nations, and cities from above the Arctic Circle to the Black Sea. This is a minor compulsion, and I could deal with it if I wanted to, but then I just wouldn’t be Sputnik Lee. Anyone else out there have over-the-road quirks they’d like to share/confess?

I met up with friends in Naberezhnye Chelny, west of Ufa, the next stop. This was the jumping-off point to last year’s rafting adventure in the Urals, and it was great seeing old pals, including several I’d be staying with in Kazan, during the huge shindig which was to come.

I was here last year and saw a vibrant city alive with commerce and culture. The focus this year has been the celebration of the 1000th anniversary of the city’s founding. Banners, pins, souvenir stands, everything’s geared to the celebration. The concerts held alongside Kazan’s magnificent kremlin (‘kreml’ is Russian for ‘fortress’, but you knew that) run the gamut. Groups mostly are squeaky clean pop acts, except for one that was kind of Joe Jackson gone big hair, if you can imagine that. Last night was the culmination of the celebration, with every square foot covered with people of every stripe, even vertical. Aside from the general positive vibe, it’s worth noting that the celebration was conducted more in Tatar (another Turkic language) than in Russian, and that there was a genuine outpouring of pride in Tatar culture and patriotism. The celebration showed none of the friction which has prevailed between Russian and Tatar peoples in both the Imperial and Soviet pasts, and I enjoyed myelf with a posse of both Tatar and Russian friends during my time here.

Laser lights on the kremlin and the newly-opened mosque (the largest in Europe), music and more music, smoke and light show beacons, a fireworks display to die for, and an overhead air show of fighter jets from around the world made this an orgy of sight and sound. How else to finish up a celebration like this, but to hop on to the opening day of the city’s subway system. Kazan’s new metro is spanking-new clean and slick, and goes to all the places around town that have been painted, remodeled, or built from scratch to be ready for the event. Looking at the new basketball fieldhouse, the hockey arena, the broad new public concourses, and the overall hum of prosperity I was forced to ask, ‘Where’s all this investment coming from?’ ‘The oil revenues, of course.’

It’s no secret that I love Russia and its many peoples. I wish them well in all things, and am gladdened by the material and civic progress that greets me with each new visit. So, if the price at the pump frosts you today, at least take solace that all the profits aren’t going to the Halliburton balance sheet. It’s making a real difference with real people over here too. So gas up that Land Cruiser and go for a spin. Cheers

Sputnik Lee

More about Kazan later.

I’m safe and sound in Ufa, the cloak and dagger about police and scams notwithstanding. However, one more weird thing happened at the Volgograd train station before I left–I was laying low near the underpass to the train platforms when a woman approached me and said, ‘What train are you going on?’ ‘Ufa’, I blurt brightly. She strode off. All my paranoia that there was some fix in to fine this Yankee for some infraction was instantly renewed. I hot-footed it to the platform and skulked behind the stairway until the train pulled up and I hopped on board. I was just not made for these cat and mouse games.

A bit on Volgograd (formerly Stalingrad)–a fine city in its current incarnation, entirely built after WWII. The city is justifiably proud of its courage and incredible sacrifice during the war. After the battle of Stalingrad not one stone was left atop another. Months of withering bombardment by advancing German forces had left over half a million Red Army dead before the German retreat. The Germans needed Volgograd badly to gain access to Russian oil further down the Volga and Caspian at Baku; to deny it to the Russians and to control the Volga would have been a near-fatal blow to the Soviet front. Stalin recognized the importance of Stalingrad both strategically and psychologically, and dedicated every possible shred of manpower and materiel to its defense. The result was untold destruction and loss of life, but with the Germans turned away after months of bitter fighting the battle proved to be the turning point against Axis powers.

Today renamed Volgograd, I found a quiet city center with a lively park on the Volga banks. It’s an industrial town, and material wealth visible on the street seemed to be inching up, as elsewhere in Russia. Volograd is all about remembering the past, and has an excellent museum dedicated to the Battle of Stalingrad. Far more moving, though, is the memorial Mamaev Kurgan with a triumphant statue of Mother Russia wielding a huge sword. This is a Statue of Liberty-sized monument, and approaching it is moving not just for its magnificence. Mamaev Kurgan stands at the top of a hill that saw the abolute worst horrors of battle. No man’s land was a handful of yards between enemy lines, and continuous shelling was matched by waves of soldiers sent to certain doom, to claim a few steps’ advance. The hill was so ravaged by battle that for years nothing would grow on it. No one at the monument the sunny day I saw it was unmindful of the scene before them, and one old man walking slowly behind me keeping repeating, ‘Smyert, smyert’ (‘the death, the death’).

Sorry to leave it on that note today sputniki. Russia paid a terrible price against fascism and then some, and for that we, to this day, owe it a debt of gratitude.

Sputnik Lee

Details on Crimea, cave cities and Bashkiria to come.

Hey Sputniki, welcome back. Got a few minutes before I hop on the train from Volgograd to Ufa, Bashkortostan's capital, so I'll continue to hack away at the blog backlog. So, the police (I never quite grasped what flavor of ... [Continue reading this entry]

A little late off the mark getting this first post up, but hello all. I'm Lee Tarricone and glad you can join me as a sputnik ('co-traveler') for this trip. I'm way behind so must as usual start at the ... [Continue reading this entry]