So we finally saw Baikal. In case you didn't know, its the deepest lake in the world, the purest, the deepest visability, and the coolest. There are even fatty little seals called nerpa that hang out and eat fatty fish called Omul. But I already knew this because Baikal is about 20x more famous than Irkutsk. The people at the study abroad program treat it like an equalizer. I mean, why study in Siberia when you could be in Western Russia?
So I thought that Baikal would be pretty touristy. Every Russian knows all about it, even if they live 6 time zones away, but it turned out to be above all, peaceful. At least where we were. We took a motor boat called a "raketa" (lit. rocket) to a village called Bol'shiye Koti, which probably doesn't mean "Big Cats" but I'd like it to. Besides a somewhat gaudy sign explaining the nature of the Pribaikal'sky park, it was a cute, normal village, without any Hawaii-style tourist junk. We then walked along the coast to a little complex of log cabins run by a young guy named Sergei. He was a buddhist, looked kind of like a skinny guy that you might see hanging out at a local coffee shop, and was very peaceful as well. In the kitchen there was a little red box that constantly played quietly some buddhist chants. It was pretty rad.
Raddest of all was the banya, which is like a Russian sauna except its dry, not wet, and they beat you with birch branches and you wear little felt hats. And then when you get to hot you get to jump into a little brook beside the hut. It reminded me a little bit of heroin, because afterwards I felt weak, sleepy, and euphoric.
So that was our trip to Baikal. Oh, wait, this is Russia, and things never go according to plan, so the next day there was only enough room on the boat back to the next town, not Irkutsk, and there we got off and had to wait in a parking lot. Our advisor Liza said that we need to catch a little private bus that would come "in an hour." I worried about this, because a) there are usually about 12 seats on a little bus, if it is empty, b) there were 7 of us in all, and c) there were another 14 people waiting to get on that little bus, who were Russian and would push us out of the way like it was their job. So I felt better when we decided instead to take a bus to the airport and take another bus home from there. But we still had to wait about 40 minutes for no reason. But it could have been worse. Americans are just unpatient, I guess.
One last thing: I know that Siberia is in Asia, like, almost half of it, but I didn't really think that much about it. Even if all the local Buryat (think Mongolian) people and the Koreans and the Chinese left Irkutsk, it would still be a little Asian, because literally every car is Japanese and every bus is Korean. The other day I grabbed onto those little straps that are on buses to keep people from falling over and "Incheon: Asian Games Canidate City 2014" was written on it. And yesterday I ate seaweed as part of my dinner.
So there's that. I haven't made a huge mistake lately, but this morning I somehow broke a lightbulb by pressing the on switch.
6 years ago
6 comments:
the lake seems pleasant and not dangerous too! nerpa sound impossibly cute, like a fat pokemon
que tal, david? the dried fruit situation has actually been resolved. i realize now that i was being whiny the day i wrote that, and not as humorously as i thought. what i'm struggling with most right now- complaining being a much better way to establish solidarity than recounting the pros of study abroad life- are the demands placed on me as a listener here. in spain when someone speaks to you you're expected to actively show interest by exclaiming (ay! or no me digas! or que pena!) and by interrupting constantly. but it all happens so fast, and i'm used to being attentive and sympathetic in a much more subtle fashion. i come off as cold, i think, which is so not the impression i want to make.
you sound like you're making out pretty well in your new home, despite the occasional hiccup. i am not surprised.
Hey David- it's your Dad. I am sure that when you said the sauna feeling reminded you of heroin you were not suggesting that you actually knew how heroin felt.
Just doing that parental thing-
This is mom. When I saw Jim's comment I started laughing because I was thinking the same thing.
I am in Sitka at an education conference and visiting our friends, Don and Galen. If you remember your Alaskan history, Sitka was once a Russian settlement. In some small way this makes me feel closer to you. There are stores on the main street filled with beautiful Russian stacking dolls and samovars. I know there's more to Russia than this :)
Right now, it is a beautiful sunny day and I'm looking out at the calm blue sea dotted with islands. It's peaceful, - perhaps similar to Lake
Baikal but without the nerpas (what a great word) or a hip Buddhist named Sergei.
Amazingly, I met a woman at dinner last night who had been to Irkutsk four times! She is a wonderful teacher. She mentioned there are many Japanese cars in Russian because in Japan, one can only own a car for x many years. After that, the cars are shipped someplace else (i.e. Russia) She also told colorful stories about the train, architecture, and public restrooms. I also hope you are careful crossing the street. Miss you and sending you motherly thoughts.
And this is your Aunt Stewart. I, too, have been to a Russian banya, and I loved it. I now thank you, David, for letting me know that how one feels after experiencing a banya is exactly how one feels with heroin. thanks to you I no longer have to try heroin. You are the best nephew ever! Love, your Tyotya Shura.
David, I know all about the buses 'that will leave in an hour'. I left to go check internet, almost got robbed and then left eight hours later. Fianaransoa was not a classy town. Next time I'll try to learn the native language.
I'm sorry for not reading all your blog posts until now. For some reason I thought I would get automatic email updates as you posted them. And I've been really busy.
Simon's mad that Andrei is practically married and now won't be any fun over new years. Also my new years will be much sadder without your joyous warmth on Jan 1. I'll eat good luck soup in your honor.
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