All Roads Lead to Irkutsk

A thunderstorm followed us to Irkutsk, drenchnig everything not protected from leaks in the bus. The floor sloshed with water and I gave up trying to avoid a wet head. I pulled my raincoat on, moved one seat back and spent the 7 1/2 hour trip talking to two Brits and one American who were studying Russian for 2 years in Russia.

We had dinner with them and took advantage of their Russian by hainv Cheryl call the train station for us to see if the train to Severobaikalsk left that day. It didn't and that saved us a trip to the train station (which turned out not to be a good thing afterall).

We settled into the same lousy hotel as before, this time with no running water (our $1.50 discount was no consolation) and sat around twiddling our thumbs figuring out how to waste another day in not-so-lovely Irkutsk.

A Last Minute Change of Plans

We've learned something - never assume anything in Russia. In this case, our assumption was that we could waltz into the train station and buy tickets to leave that night. What were we thinking?

It took three tries to find the right ticket window. The special window for foreigners was hidden behind a closed door (how obvious) with a sign in only Russian.

Now, in America (or any other non-Russian country I think) it would take a simple question to have the ticket agent give you all the possible ways of getting to your destination. No teeth extraction necessary. Here in Russia, well...if the train you want is full, then the train you want is full...why are you still hanging around?

How many people could possibly want to go to a small town at the top of Lake Baikal? Ok...let's try this. "The train goes through Taychet, yes? Can we take a train to Taychet tonight and change there?"

"Sure."

They tell you nothing. Turns out that the train wasn't fully booked at all. It's just that we had requested a first class sleeper all the way through, and the second train was only 2nd class. Instead of just explaining this...well...you get the picture.

We sorted out our route and then began what I like to think of as our proudest Russian transportation moment. We had 1 1/2 hours before the train left. We had to get back to the hotel, pack our backpacks, get back to the train station, buy the tickets (we didn't want to risk buying them ahead in case we missed the train), and find the train.

"Taxi,Taxi!!" We were whisked at full Russian taxi speed to the hotel. I told the driver to wait (in Russian, and he understood - I was so proud - just in case though we didn't pay him yet). Back in the taxi and at another death-defying bat-out-of-hell pace we were back at the train station. "Stop, you missed our terminal," I yelled. A locking of brakes, a full turn of the wheel, and we defied the laws of physics, gravity and Murphy to be deposited right at the door. It brought tears to my eyes.

Our first class sleeper wasn't as nice as our first train ride, but the door latched on this one, and the two car attendants were nice. Off to sleep, we arrive at 5:45am then have a 5 hour wait for our next train.

Night Night!

Taychet

There are exactly zero reasons to come to Taychet. It is a pit - filthy, run-down, depressing, and grey. We had two choices while waiting for the next train, sit inside the train station (a small dilapitated heap) breathing fowl air from the hords of people sleeping, sitting waiting there, or try our luck outside with the over-healthy mosquitto population.

We walked to the far end of the road, past slum-like buildings and frowning Russians on their way to work. Communism has destroyed so much of Russia. We wonder how long, if ever, it will take to recover from the damage. Will people here ever take pride in their surroundings and try to change them? Will rows of soviet-block apartments ever be raised?

According to the guide books, Siberia suffers from the worst education system in all of Russia. Kindergartens seem to be everywhere, but beyond that level education, things seem to fall apart. This from the guide book: A survey conducted a few years ago showed that 80% of rural school girls aspired to be prostitutes; and the same percentage of boys when asked of their professional goals said 'killer'.

We killed the rest of our time at a local store (magazine in Russian). It was typical of others selling only the very basics - water, soda, ice-cream, cigarettes, beer, vodka, a few canned and dried goods, a few toiletry products, 3 pair of socks, and of course the ever present Pringles and Snicker bars. To add up the sales the Russians still use the abacus.