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Yekaterinburg

Sunday, September 19th, 2004

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Yekaterinburg is most famous, however, as the place where Tsar Nicholas II and his wife and five children were murdered by the Bolsheviks in July 1918. Having seen where the bodies were interred in the family vault in the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, we now traveled a few miles outside the city to view the site surrounded by a quiet forest of lodge pines and birches where the bodies were found and to see the beautiful Orthodox monastery and seven churches newly built in honor of each of the Romanoff “saints.”

We stop at the exact point where European Russia meets Asia and have our pictures taken wit one foot on each continent.

At Shirokorenchinskaya Cemetery we see monumental graves…one a life-size engraving in marble of a 35 year old gangster, with Mercedes keys dangling from his hand. I asked Shasha, our young English-speaking guide if the mafia was all gone in Russia today since these guys had finished each other off. “Yes,” he said, “now they are all in the government.” No fooling this young educated generation soon to take over the reins of this beleagued country where across the street you can see a vast memorial dedicated to the 20 million victims of Stalin’s Gulags many of which were in this Region. The bodies of 25,000 people from Yekanterinburg alone were found buried here.

Falling Out of Bed in Yekaterinburg

Sunday, September 19th, 2004

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This autumn of 2004, our second time around the world, our train wanders through a rolling fairy-tale landscape in Siberia filled with gentle grassland (steppes) and Birch trees (the forest is called taiga) with the sun glinting off the red and yellow leaves. Dilapidated little unpainted houses with gardens of cabbages, carrots and garlic appear every few miles…and the kids at home say they have nothing to do???

We arrive in Yekaterinburg, the capital of the Sverdlovsk Region which is the capital of the Urals Federal District, with the population of 1.4 million people.

We make our way to our next homestay with Olga, a pretty blond dressed in leapard skin tights with a nice caring smile. We are sleeping on a make-down counch next to the wall and during the night Bob crawls over me to go to the bathroom and tips the bed with the two of us falling onto the floor. Whomp goes the bed back down to the floor. My god, I say to Bob, she is going to wonder what the heck we are doing in here!

Olga wakes us up the next morning for guel and raisins and sliced sausage and cheese and black coffee for breakfast. She has already canned several beautiful small jars of zucchini with tomatoes and garlic and big jars of tomatoes, peppers and garlic. She wraps them lovingly in blankets on the living room floor before storing them “so the flavors will continue mixing.” She would earn awards at our state fair. She says her husband left her for a younger woman. Her son lives with his girlfriend, works and attends a local university, one of about 20 colleges and technical schools in the city. Yelsin grew up and was educated as an engineer at one of the local schools before he became political and ended up in the Kremlin.
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