Hello Everyone,

It has been one month since Russia and the harsh Siberian plains and I have only just begun to appreciate the difference in culture and the social structure between 'West' and 'Russia'.
No doubt everyone who is reading this has heard of the stories and myths about the bodka, communism influences and the 'harsh' and arrogant people that leave in Siberia...well basically this was what I also had to go by when I first boarded the train in Mongolia. Even though these were the only stories that have been passed down to me, I decided to expect nothing and hope that in return I would better understand the...standard..ized Russians ;)

If I was to sit here and write down what I did on a day to day basis, a) you would fall asleep and b) I won't be doing much sight seeing in my current country. I will therefore try and blog events and attractions that helped me shape my idea of Russia.

1. The People

Other than the usual tourist friends we made on our train and hostel stays (all lovely and very glad to meet all of them) there were a few occasions where we truly were able to interact with the local people with genuine sincerity. The common Russian are in general, reserved (almost in arrogrance) and usually with a stony face are hard to like even when serving customers. The cliche now for me is to write about how the opened up as I doubled my efforts into getting to know them and that we were able to absorb the culture through these numerous interactions...right?? (That's what they write in the guide books)
Well I would like to refute this claim. Yes, they were cold to begin with, YES they warmed when efforts were made....but NO we didn#t learn anything about them. You see, through either their eagerness to learn about our country or a deliberate ploy to avoid theirs, we only found that we skimmed the surface of each of their lives.

It is easy then to pinpoint 2 individuals that were eager to share a country I so desparately wanted to dive into.

First was at Lake Baikal (near Irktusk, middle of Siberia) and he went by the name of Dimitri.
We first met when I was using table tennis as a means of connecting with the locals on the island. Although he spoke the least amount of English, he often nodded along when others tried speaking to me. The last night at the island, I played TT for 6 hours straight with the locals only. In the end, all had left except for Dimitri. At 3 am in the morning, he stopped and asked 'Dance?' At this point in time I mad a quick decision to go with it. 'Yes' was my reply and 'come' was his next word. How far was this beach party? Well 20 minutes walk in a pitch black village and then the dark blue coast line. Quite understandably when we started to jump our first fence in the dark I waved my arms to Dimitri that he MUST get me back to the guesthouses after the 'dancing'. What made me comfortable (looking back now) was his enthusiasm to show me pictures on his phone of everyone (his friends and family) as we were walking. From what I gathered, he was very dedicated to his girlfriend and loves his sister dearly but unfortunately she was very head strong :p . For Dimitri, Lake Baikal was a working holiday destiniation over the summer and he was a uni student in Irktusk (which he loved as well as this side? of Russia).
The night was spend at a private beach party with only locals....one that I won't recount in this blog.
In all this exchange, I had not said a word. Its enough to say that I got home okay the next day. The next day hangover was bad....but surprisingly he spend the day showing me the neighbourhood. Suddenly I noticed everyone giving each other nods and 'hellos' (though still no smiles). He explained that over the summers he had built a house himself on the island so he can come to the island every summer. The place was beautiful and alot of care can be seen in maintaining the summer place. I was flattered as he gave me a tour of a house that he (as a student) built because he loved Baikal so much.
For me, Dimitri showed me that this generation was unaffected by the traumas of the past. For once I didnt hear that 'we work hard all the time' or 'Russia is no good'....This generation was eager to show the world what they could do....much like us. And for once he learnt nothing about me and I learnt everything about him.

The 2nd person (and the one that touched me the most) was one that we met surprisingly in Moscow. I use the word surprisingly because up until this point, Moscow was the hardest and intimidating city we had encountered throughout Russia. On a surburban train to a town known as a town of churches (30 minutes out of Moscow) we met a lady that was also travelling to this town. In time over this short journey we learnt that she was making a pilgrim to this town of churches. Though she possessed little English and showed little enthusiasm with our conversation, she had a quality to her that made us...curious??? Not surprisingly it was what she DID over the next few hours that moved me.
She was part of the Russian Orthodox Church and as we strolled closer to the church town, she stopped and produced bread crumbs from her leftovers (lunch) to feed the pidgeons that were hovering around the walls of the town (she shared her crumbs with us). At this point we asked if she had been here before 'No' was the timid answer. Then as we approached the gates, more than 10 beggars swarmed upon us for money. As we are not in a habit of giving money to beggars we kept walking only to find that our friend had stopped. I should not have been surprised but again she had produced a bag of coins and everyone who approached her was given coins and notes.
At this point we thought that she was pretty well off.....but the next few minutes made me realize and understand so much.
After paying to enter the town, she was then told that it cost extra (100 roubles) to take photos. The forlorn figure that she cut said so much about the person she was. (We had separated by then and had viewed this scene unfold from a far). Not within her budget, she was outside the gates pacing and debating with herself about whether or not....after a few days travel....to buy this ticket. To say the least, we rushed up and bought the camera ticket for her ($4 Aus). The joy we brought to her cannot be described as rewarding but fulfilling. In her enthusiasim to somehow 'repay' us, she tried to translate the old Russiand scripts on the walls of the archways to us. We however excused ourselves and took our leave as het time in the church was far more important than any tourist. What I gathered the most from her was not from her smile (because she still didnt) but from her eyes. From this point on, I gathered much from other Russians by looking into their eyes.

I think its too hard to describe the feeling that day in a blog, but it was those 5 to 10 minutes and those collective experiences that brought my understanding of the Russian culture to level 1 (Beginner level)....better than the unknown/ignorance that I practiced earlier. For me, the people were dedicated to their beliefs, their close ones, even to the 'detriment' of their lifestyle. For me it was as if they had kept the good parts of what communism was trying to teach them and adopted a more capitalist approach, replacing the corruption that infected the country before.

This brings me to the the Riches of Russia

The blocky and rigid Kremlin pales in comparison to the city of St. Petersburg. A living and breathing museum (even our hostel was in a art nouveau style). The hermitge and the Petergoff were winter and summer palaces that were both extravagant to the point of 'too much' but at the same time breathtaking. The image that will always be imprinted in my mind was the fountains that ran for almost 200 meters from the docks to the palace, which became more and more elaborate, culminating to a golden statue centerpiece that was ringed by other golden smaller fountain statues that were squirting water.

Rich is the picture of Russia I have painted at the moment, however roaming the streets of Moscow speak as much as the palaces themselves do about the state of the country. Beggars, scavengers rummage raid bins constantly while the parks always show signs of inhabitants. Matthew even had a can of coke taken off him so the person could have something to drink (it was almost empty). All this poverty was in stark contrast to the palaces...

As I unwinded from my ever so long blog, I must address a question that I have been asking myself throughout the last 3 weeks. Am I making small things into something 'culturally' different when in reality I just don't pay attention of these things back home? The tourist syndrome is something that I cannot avoid. But I suppose some things like the service at dinner, the postal service show glimpses that what I have seen isn#t too far off the truth.

Next stop are the Baltic States. 3 countries that felt the full effect of the Soviet occupation. We are optimistic of the changes that has sweeped through this small countries

Footnote.....if it doesnt make sense....its because i just wrote this in one hit....I will/might edit it.....but it would be easier if u pointed them out to me....cause i still have like 9 countries to go through before i even catch up

Yu