Russian Revolutions…
July 4th came and passed without much note here. Was out that night with Ivo and his 2 German compatriots – a good night out, as detailed last week, but only because it was a Friday night and not because people here gave a rat’s ass about American Independence Day.
Ivo took off on Saturday – I was back to knowing approximately zero people in town, so spent the day writing last week’s mega blog entry (have you finished reading it yet?). That took about 4 hours…but it kept me out of trouble. Which I found some of later that evening, taking the metro to the little basement music pub Ivo and I had found the previous night.
I was fretting in a minor fashion about not yet having gotten my St. Petersburg registration paperwork back from Nord Hostel…without that, I was somewhat exposed. Marsha, the manager, told me not to worry, but you know me.
As I walked along the metro passageway, I felt someone slither up behind me. Sure enough, a cop wanted to speak with me. He spoke in Russian…I replied that I was an ‘Americanski’…he said ‘passport, please.’ I was reasonably prepared for this, given my lack of blonde hair and blue eyes; I made a show of extracting 1) my dossier of train tickets, customs forms, and passport copies, then 2) my passport. I handed the passport to the cop – he took one look at it, not even opening it, then gave it back and motioned me on. His two flunkies, who were standing in front of me in case I made a runner, moved away.
The fellow was probably just looking for Central Asians to roust. Or, if he was looking to hit up western tourists for ‘fines,’ he must have realized I was a bad one to bother. My facial expression was probably a bit helpful to my cause – I wasn’t at all afraid of these boys, so didn’t display any apprehension. It was more that I was getting tired of Russia and its weird contradictions, and I probably had a sour look on my face as I trudged along in the metro. I think these cops feed off fear, that it makes them feel powerful and superior, and you can defeat them with 1) equal and opposite annoyance/pride, or 2) insouciance – being obviously relaxed and unconcerned about the situation. That’s my dimestore philosophy on the matter, anyway…
I mentioned that I was getting sick of Russia. It’s a hard place to get anything done. Two entire days in St. P. were spent taking care of train tickets, reconfirming my flight, etc. It’s true that I whine about these things…but only in the blog. This is a great outlet for my various frustrations…I almost never take them out on friends and randoms. I felt like venting on Marsha for not ensuring I already had my visa paperwork…but I just told her I was concerned, and left it at that. I could tell she was trying, at least once I voiced my concern…and I’ve found that whining and losing your cool are counterproductive 80% of the time. I wasn’t happy getting tossed out of my room in Moscow on the eve of my birthday, but it wasn’t Sarmat’s fault, and by dealing with it I got myself a room again the next morning.
After the cops stopped me, I carried on to the little bar, had a couple beers, there, then took the metro back to the city center. Found a crowded little place, full of people dancing…had another beer there, then went back to my room. I felt I had gotten a pretty good sense of the city, and would be taking off the next afternoon for the much smaller city of Novgorod, en route to Moscow.
Last day in St. P. I went out…it started to rain. Wanted to post last week’s blog, but couldn’t get wifi anywhere. The hostel had a desktop, but I found a virus on it and didn’t want to risk getting it on my USB drive. Torture. Plus Marsha still hadn’t given me my paperwork…I really wanted it before leaving town. Who knows what I’d need to show Immigration in a couple days’ time at the airport in Moscow?
I was in a black mood, and went back to the hostel, stymied. Packed my bags, and plotted a strategy to get to the train station without getting soaked. It wouldn’t be straightforward to get a ($$) taxi to come get me…I dug out some large plastic bags and found that my little pack, with all the electronics, would fit inside. My large pack has a rain cover, so no problem there. Then Marsha came in…she handed over my paperwork…she told me that the main hostel had wireless and that she’d drive me there straightaway…and she told me she’d take me to the train station later on, to avoid the rain. Perhaps I’m too tactical these days, but I almost kissed her. Then we went to the main hostel and I did computer stuff for an hour.
Still raining hard, so Marsha drove me to the airport. She’s a funny person – morose in appearance and posture, but she has a wicked sense of humor. I think I mentioned last week that she tagged me as an American spy…she kept up that line all week. And she constantly asked me if I had yet visited any of the city’s fine ‘erotic clubs,’ e.g. Golden Dolls or Playgirls. I gave it serious thought, but never got around to it. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious, or just having a laugh.
Just goes to show that keeping your cool does work. If I had gone off on Marsha, I doubt any of her down-to-the-wire ‘presents’ would have come to me. To thank her, I gave her my sleeping bag (clean) and my Mongolian yak hair sweater – which she could probably sell for a total of US$70 or so, or pass on to a friend or another traveler. And I was happy to lighten my pack, even by just a kilo or two. I kept my hiking boots and metal water bottle – I would likely need these in the future.
I texted my sister in Boston – it was the 13th anniversary of my mom’s death, and we try to speak on that day every year. Sometimes it happens, sometimes not. She later texted back to ring her, but replied that I didn’t have enough credits on my phone card. She tried me a few hours after that, but it was 2 or 3 a.m. local time and I was fast asleep. Oh well…so hard to believe it’s been so many years, my mother still seems so alive to me.
I took a 3-hour train ride that night to Novgorod. Sat next to a fairly cute Russian lass…tried to strike up a conversation, but she didn’t speak much English and we didn’t get too far. Oh well…
I’d only have 24 hours in Novgorod, which was possibly the first capital of the early Russian state, and in any event a leading city until the rise of St. P. in the early 18th century. Novgorod was founded around 860 A.D., making it a pretty old city for these parts.
Got off the train, nice to be in a modest station. Got a taxi to my hotel, a 3-star deal called Hotel Sadko. Room was perfectly fine. Realized that I had not had a bathroom to myself since being in Beijing, about 7 weeks earlier. Yeesh – no wonder my hygiene had gone downhill. I took a long shower and had a shave, without anyone knocking at the bathroom door. Then went out for a walk and dinner.
Novgorod is a terrific little city. Not that many sullen Adidas track-suited young men hanging out in groups at street corners…not that many cars screeching by blasting Metallica. Of course, you do see grannies sitting in bus shelters drinking bottles of beer – this is Russia, and beer is soda.
Novgorod has a brilliant kremlin and some classic old Orthodox churches. The Nazis did their damage here, but things were rebuilt and the place is lovely. Next time I come to Russia, I want to spend more time in places like this, and less in the huge cities. The ‘Golden Ring’ towns and cities like Vladimir and Suzdal are also supposedly great places to visit.
I think I’d enjoy Russia more the second time round…I know a few people, I understand the mentality better, and I’d feel less compelled to race from sight to sight. Of course, having a nice expense account would help immensely…
Had dinner at an outdoor café listed in my guidebook. Salad, red wine, and a chicken skewer with rice. Hit the spot. It was fairly chilly outside, but the air was clean and I felt at peace. Walked around the kremlin a bit, but put off the real sight-seeing till the next day.
Read my next book, The Black Dahlia by James Ellroy, till about 3 a.m. Good yarn – had trouble putting it down. Haven’t delved into a crime thriller in a very long time – this is a good one. I think they made it into a movie last year, but didn’t see it. Did abny of you?
Got up – too late for the included breakfast. Oh well. Checked out, left my bags and went for a daylong walk around town. Took a bridge over the river, got a nice glimpse of the kremlin:
Then went to the kremlin and checked out the grounds and buildings there. Apparently Prince Alexander (Nevsky) marched from here in 1241 or so to fight the Teutonic/Lithuanian forces in the ‘slaughter on the ice,’ where the two sides fought on frozen River Neva, the Russians winning and Alexander getting his title. When I was a kid I read about this battle in some comic book, which simultaneously glorified war and showed the horror in it. I didn’t wind up joining the military…I suppose I got the right message.
Had lunch in the kremlin walls – there’s a great place called Restoran Detinets (old kremlin name). Was in the mood to have some refined food, for a change, and went for a rich borscht and then a salmon in cheese sauce. Finally, some real Russian cuisine – I probably didn’t try hard enough to sample the local cuisine while here. Good Russian food, apart from the ubiquitous salads and soups, reminds me of French food – modest portions of top cuts of fish/meat, in a simple but tasty sauce. That makes sense, given the influence of France on Russia over the centuries – I believe that French was actually the court language in Russia for some time, as it was in England.
Thankfully no tour groups came into the restaurant while I was there. Earlier I had planned to stop into another place, Ilmen, but just as I was casing the joint a tour group of 30+ Norwegians came in and that sealed the deal for me. I understand the logic for tour groups, I just hate coming across them as an indie traveler.
After lunch, went into the Cathedral of St. Sofia, perhaps the oldest church in Russia. Beautiful paintings, devout worshippers, and an icon of Our Lady of Novgorod – which has a blemish above the left eye, supposedly from an arrow shot by enemy Suzdal forces. Which struck, the icon supposedly cursed the Suzdalians and caused them to attack each other, allowing the Novgorodians to gallop out and chase them off. Good legend, anyway…
Also saw the ‘Millenium Memorial to Russia,’ built in 1862. It has hundreds of images of famous Russians, and is quite an impressive statue:
Walked out of the kremlin and found myself on a riverside beach. Russians specialize in these things, so few of them live near the ocean and those are almost all cold-water ports. I heard Sochi on the Black Sea is good, but a madhouse in summer – and the 2014 Winter Games will be held there, so it will get even more built up. Not in the cards for me this trip…
It wasn’t that warm, but there were still a number of sunbathers and volleyballers…
Walked up to a small military memorial to WW2. Behind it was a huge statue – not sure who it was, my guidebook wasn’t helpful, but I think it’s of Rurik the Viking, or perhaps one of his offspring, who founded Novgorod.
Checked email – heard from Al in Ulaan Bataar, he sent me a few photos, including one of the riot forces on the streets, quelling disturbances there (which were brief and finished pretty quickly). Here’s a birds-eye view from Al’s apartment in UB:
He also got his jetboat in, finally, and took it for a spin on the Gol River. I’m keeping that job offer in mind…
Later on I walked on the far side of the river, to a statue of Alexander Nevsky himself, with some bird shit as pomade:
Nice river walk – you get some good views across to the kremlin. I also spent a bit of time in an area called Yaroslav’s Court, full of old churches. This part of town used to be the market, and an old arcade façade still stands near the river. Finally, walked by a monument to the Afghan War – Russia’s Vietnam (and/or Iraq?).
A good day’s worth of touring, I was done by 4:30 p.m. My train to Moscow didn’t leave till 9:20 p.m., so I had time to drink beer, hang out, and try to finish my book.
Nearly the perfect day. I saw some new things, had some authentic Russian food, enjoyed the sunny weather and spent only 10 minutes on the Internet. I hadn’t made any friends in town, but that’s usually the luck of the draw and anyway I was leaving soon. Novgorod was an excellent antidote to 2 weeks in the large Russian cities…as I wrote earlier, next time round I want to focus my time in places like this.
Had a couple beers at an outdoor pub near the kremlin…then had a good pizza at a place on the other side, near my hotel. Finally walked to Hotel Sadko, sat and read till around 8 p.m., and got ready to head to the train station for my overnight ride to Moscow. Overheard another foreigner asking for a cab to the vokzhal (train station), I asked if we could split the ride, and she said yes. Kelly, from Canada, had been traveling for about 7 months or so, in the opposite direction – she had already gone around Africa and the Middle East.
Got on the train – Kelly and I were in separate cars. My cabinmates, at first glance, appeared dull…two older gents and a frumpy woman, evidently all Russian. And they weren’t that cool about moving so that I could stow my bag under a bottom bench. I braced myself for a silent ride, and broke out my book.
I didn’t have any drinking water, asked the conductor where the café car was. He pointed the way – then one of the guys in my cabin asked me, in English, if I was going there, I said yes, but just for water. He nodded and went back into the cabin. Wasn’t sure what that exchange was for, but I went off to find some water. Eventually got some…it turned out to be free, along with some basic food.
Went back to my cabin, with the knowledge that at least one of my cabinmates could speak English. And I soon found that my initial impressions were dead wrong, as they often are. Sergey, the English speaker, is a personable guy, and very welcoming – we were soon discussing business and politics as if we were old friends. And Andrei was even more gregarious – he broke out a bottle of Russian cognac, a tin of fish, and passed it around. He spoke little English but with Sergey there we could communicate. Tatiana was unfortunately the odd one out – she was reserved, didn’t want to eat or drink, and mostly responded to questions Andrei or Sergey posed to her. She did find the three of us funny (or odd), though, occasionally perking up when we said something provocative.
The bottle of cognac didn’t last long – neither did the tin of fish. Andrei broke out a packet of salmon and shared that too – I bought a few beers and passed those out. We kept talking – I really liked Sergey, he’s a genuine guy who’s visited a few of the southern U.S. states and is fairly wordly. Andrei, on the other hand, hadn’t seen much of the planet, and was an earthy sort. Andrei’s an engineer, and Jewish as well – I nearly came off my seat when I found out he spent some time on a kibbutz in Israel and is a tribesman. I would not have been surprised if cosmopolitan Sergey told me he was Jewish…but chain-smoking, heaving-drinking, raunchy Andrei, who, when I said I want Obama to win, said a few words in Russian and then added ‘nigger’? Again, my beliefs and impressions were shown to be pretty shallow.
At one point Andrei got up to dump some garbage, including the empty salmon packet. As he walked by me he managed to pour a few drops of the salmon oil onto my pants – you know how fragrant fish oil is. I went to the bathroom and poured water on the pant legs, and worked a bit of soap in there. I wound up putting the pants into a plastic bag and hoping my next washing would get rid of the smell.
We went to sleep sometime after midnight, with Moscow arrival pegged at 5:30 a.m. We first exchanged emails…I might just look at Sergey if back in Russia. Not sure about Andrei – he’s the type of guy who’s fun to come across once…
Tried to sleep – but the aircon wasn’t working and it was hot as a sauna in there. I got up to stand in the corridor, but did want to get some z’s. Andrei talked in his sleep…and at one point got up and seemed to be cursing the heat as well. Sergey got up a bit later. At some point, perhaps around 3 a.m., the air got better and I probably slept an hour or so. The conductor got us up at 5 a.m. and I felt like hell – as much from lack of sleep as from the booze.
Got off the train at Leningradsky Station and oriented myself. Saw Kelly waiting near the metro station; this entrance seemed to be closed, but I thought the metro opened at 5:30 or even earlier, so I looked around for another entrance, and there was one nearby. I guided Kelly there – she hadn’t yet been to Moscow and I wanted to help her out. As we walked over to the entrance, we saw a cop take a street cleaning hose and train it on a drunk rummaging through a trash can. That was a painful sight – the poor drunk was just looking around for something to eat. The cop was a real Russian product – bull-necked, small eyes, huge cap, no emotion. Kelly winced and I did too – but didn’t want to stick around and have the cop notice us, either.
Inside, the crush was awful. The metro had just opened and everyone from the train and randoms too were in line to purchase tickets. I had stupidly neglected to get a ticket during my previous time in Moscow and thus was bereft, like Kelly. We were weighed down with our baggage, and the line was endless. I noticed a metro employee helping passengers through the turnstiles…I saw someone passing her some rubles…I grabbed Kelly, pulled out 40 rubles, and gave her 20. We approached the woman and each slipped her the cash – she let us through. I have no doubt she has a nice side-business in letting busy people through every morning…good for her. That saved us a huge amount of time and hell…we found our train and got on.
Kelly had to stop and change trains, I told her how to do it, and went on myself. I felt like a good Samaritan, as I had with the Swedish girl when I left Moscow. Eventually I got to my stop, and back to Lenin Hostel, my Moscow base. I didn’t want to wake up the staff at Lenin, so I went to McD’s for some coffee and ‘nourishment.’ Then over to Lenin around 7 a.m. or so, an hour I knew would be the start of the work day at the hostel.
Walked in…Sarmat was sitting at reception, bleary-eyed as usual. We shook hands and I went into the common room to nap a bit and do some computer stuff. Confirmed my hotel in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, my next country. Paid some bills. Checked emails. Saw that my Uzbekistan letter of invitation had arrived – good news.
Next I knew it was 10 a.m., and Sarmat was relieved by the lovely Nadia, who started at the hostel right before I left for St. P. We chatted for a while, then my room opened up. I went in and then took a much-needed shower – I think some of Andre’s fish oil was still on my bod. Nice.
After that I grabbed a shashlik for lunch, and a beer too. Back at the hostel, I sent an email to Valentin, the older Russian fellow who offered me a job the previous week. I declined, and told him that I thought he’d be better off contacting my former employer, which has offices in Moscow and Johannesburg, and could put together a couple people to facilitate communications and help him negotiate with potential licensees. We’ll see how he gets back to me on that.
Took a very long nap – 4 hours. I’m pretty good at napping – one of my few skills. Called Marnely in Cebu – turned out her dad was ill and she was pretty broken up. I kind of wish I were there to help her out…did my best over the phone, and promised to call often to check on her.
The time in Russia was coming to an end. I thought about my time here…about the people and the place. Are Russians Europeans? That was a question I wrestled with during my entire trip. From Siberia, where the people seemed earthy and unlike other ‘whities’ I’d come across around the world, to Moscow and St. P., which were refined cities with all the amenities of modern life (but also lots of raw behavior and dodginess), I’d seen a decent stretch of the country. ‘Scratch a Russian, get a Tatar,’ goes a Russian saying, meaning that beneath a white/Euro veneer lies an Asian. Perhaps, perhaps – I saw some of that while here. I couldn’t comprehensively answer my question, but I thought I’d developed some insight nonetheless into the Russian mind and character.
I was happy I had taken the time in Mongolia to learn how to read Cyrillic – that was incredibly helpful to getting around and taking care of things there and here, and in future destinations. I only wish I had learned Japanese hiragana as quickly back when I lived in Tokyo, that would also have been helpful. Lesson: invest some time in this, it might make the difference in your trip.
Case in point: I had to get up at 5 a.m. to head to the airport. Said bye to Nadia, who worked the graveyard shift but still seemed fresh as a daisy and perky as well – I’d miss her. I did get her email address and plan to stay in touch. I was slightly concerned about the timing, my flight wasn’t till 10 a.m., but still, this is Russia and things happen (or don’t). I could have taken a cab, but that was fairly pricey and I decided to try to get there on public trans. By now I knew the subway system quite well and could understand the written and verbal bits, so got to my stop to the north of the city without a hitch and found the matrushka (mini-van) stop there. If I couldn’t understand Cyrillic I would have had a very hard time. As it was, I got on the first mini-van to Sheremetyeko Airport and was there by 7:15 or so. Total cost: 80 rubles, less than US$4. For once, a bargain in Russia. There aren’t many places where you can get to the airport that cheaply…
The airport is pretty crappy – not that clear where departures are or when to check in. I had to cool my heels for 40 minutes, which wasn’t that big a deal. Immigration was shockingly easy – I just handed over my passport, the woman didn’t ask to see anything else. I had my dossier, and have kept that just in case.
This was my first flight on Aeroflot – not such a big deal these days, they fly Boeings and not not Antonovs or Tupolevs. Good thing, that. And Aeroflot is on Skyteam, so I gave the check-in clerk my Delta # and that worked. In the check-in line for my flight to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan was the most bizarre collection of people I’d seen in memory. A woman with bright red dyed hair stood there with her son and a dog in a little carrier. A portly guy with b.o., all gold teeth, and a pasha hat was right behind me – till he shifted lines, as seemed to be the local obsession – anything to advance two centimeters. An obsese Russian woman and her son, who wore a ratty baseball cap and had a huge bandage on his neck…finally, a cutie who was probably Kyrgyz. The queues were fluid and confusing – I was not in a real hurry so just watched and enjoyed the mayhem. In this part of the world, this is perfectly normal behavior – crazy turbulence – anything to make forward progress.
Not the greatest group of winners, to be sure. I was surprised to see so many Russians on the flight, I had thought most Russians left around 1991, when the USSR broke up, and later in 2005, when the Kyrgyz government fell and there was a fair amount of anti-Russian discrimination. Anyway, I’d soon be able to see for myself.
I sat down near my gate and waited. A woman across from me spoke on her mobile in American English. When she was through, I said hi and asked where she was from. Boston, she said. Me too. I asked her if she’d spent much time in Bishkek – I wanted some non-guidebook intelligence. She said ‘Chicago?’ I said, ‘No, Bishkek.’ Soon it was clear that she had never heard of Bishkek – she was flying from Moscow through Paris back to the U.S. An American who’s never heard of Bishkek – now that’s an impression of mine confirmed. But actually there’s an American Airforce base at the Bishkek airport – and lots of American contractors in town. I’d soon get the opportunity – rarely sought, it should be said – to hang out with middle-aged American military suppliers and get their deep take on the state of play in Kyrgyzstan. Do I sound cynical? Stay tuned for my next report, to be filed in a few days after I get a sense of this ‘stan’ country. Over and out.
Tags: Travel
mbsloney
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