I haven't finished my Russian blogs yet. They are maturing as drafts at the moment. However, while it is still fresh, I want to write about the last week in which I have been making the transition from Russia to Spain. I didn't think about this part of the trip very clearly and there have been a couple of minor bugs and it has turned out to be a little more expensive than it would have been if I had done a little planning. Nevertheless, I am having a good time and this transition time has been a time for much needed rest and recuperation despite all the travel.
I am now in Arnhem in the Netherlands. Tomorrow I get on the train for a 12-hour trip to Bayonne, France. After Russia, where I was on trains for a total of 80 hours, 12 hours is nothing at all. I do have to change three times but they are easy changes and I will welcome the chance to walk a little. For some reason, my sprained ankle doesn't like train or airplane travel very much. At the moment I am recovering from an all-night excursion to Amsterdam. My friend Tibor with whom I am staying in Arnhem insisted that I see Amsterdam so we caught the train at 10:30 P.M. and arrived in Amsterdam about midnight. We went from bar to bar and other disreptutable gay venues with little excursions to see the redlight district, the Queen's Palace and other notable sights. The first train back was at 6 in the morning so I was up all night. As my friend Angela said in Moscow when she caught me running from place to place at the Contact Festival, "Act your age." It was fun though and I don't seem to have any ill-effects despite being caught in two thunderstorms.
It is strange being in The Netherlands. I had looked forward to seeing Tibor whom I had met in Hungary about four years ago, but I hadn't thought about the fact that he was in Holland. Holland turns out to be pretty much like it was in the stories I read as a child. The houses have pyramidal fronts. People ride bicycles. There are a lot of canals. There is a lot of cheese but none in red wax coverings. So far I haven't seen a windmill but maybe I will tomorrow on the train. I go from here to Rotterdam and from Rotterdam to Paris where I change for Bayonne.
Arnhem is a smallish big city with great parks, impressive churches and a large, pedestrian only shopping district where Tibor lives. I'm very annoyed I don't know Dutch. At the moment, I want to learn every language in the world. I am happy to be going to Spain where I at least have a clue about the language although I don't speak it very well. I'm thinking of studying Russian when I get back. Something stuck after 50 years since I last studied it and I think I might have a chance of upgrading a little.
This transition period started in Moscow where I arrived very tired. I had intended to look up friends but instead checked into a strange hotel that used to serve people who worked at the Khazatstan Embassy. No one spoke Russian except a security guard. They didn't even speak German which is usually the fall-back language in Russia. It was a huge cavernous place with about five people staying in it. They did have a great breakfast buffet that came with the room but there were never more than five people eating and usually it was only me and someone else. There was kasha (Russian for breakfast porridge which comes in astounding variety), omelets (which were really an egg custard which was a great idea because it kept warm better than omelets), cold meats, cheese, hot sausages, raw cucumbers, tomatoes, dill, parsley, a range of breads, a toaster, great sweet cakes, and several different stuffed blinis. One of the hot sausages was perhaps the best sausage I have ever had, succulent, porky and earthy.
The hotel was within walking distance of central Moscow but there were also good metro connections. I walked a lot trying to absorb Moscow which I like. I took a walk laid out in the Lonely Planet to a street with a lot of old churches. Very nice. I went to a nesting doll museum. I had weird Uzbek soup and a great Uzbek pilav in a restaurant (I never realized before that "plov" is the same word as "pilaf." I kept thinking I should look up friends but I was too tired and had been in constant contact with people for a month and a half and for a solitary person, that is a lot.
Then on to London, this time in a shabby but cheap hotel near Victoria Station. The room was the smallest hotel room I have ever stayed in, but it was adequate. I tried to see my friend Janet but again we were frustrated. This is the third time we have been in the same city or state and still couldn't meet. We are hoping to get together when I get back to London in October.
In London I took a walk in the Rough Guide to Walks in Southeastern England, a book I recommend. The walk followed the Regent Canal into the docklands with a stop at the Ragged School Musem, a museum about charitable work in the East End in the 19th century. A great place. It functions as a afterschool place for local children as well as a museum. I recommend this too. It's a small treat, but a treat. In the morning I had been to see the Tower of London which I had never seen before despite having been going to London off and on since 1976. I went early, avoided the crowds, saw the two chapels and the Royal Jewels and was happy to be able to cross that off my list. In the late afternoon, I queued for an intellectual play at the National Theaters but realized there was no way I was going to last through the play so went to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince which almost did me in as well. I think, by and large, that the movies are better than the books but unfortunately they are so compressed that you have to have read the books to follow them.
O.K. I had an easy flight from London to Amsterdam and an easy train ride from Amsterdam to Arnhem. I will be sorry to leave Tibor and Holland which I like (but now that I'm old I seem to like everything--somehow that seems annoying). Tomorrow on to France and then on the 1st of September I start walking.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The Trans-Siberian Train
I had two trips on Trans-Siberian Trains (definitely not expresses), one going east and one west, but I am combining them together in one blog and will write about my week at Lake Baikal later.
Before that, there are a couple of items I left out of the previous email. The first is my experience in a Russian banya (or sauna to use the Finnish word). There was a banya at the camp in the Altai Mountains and I was accorded teacher's privileges so I could use it free. The sauna room itself is pretty much like a sauna in the United States (although the ones I was in were heated by a wood stove), but there is always an anteroom with steaming hot water in which one can take bucket showers (or wash ones clothes). This room also has cold water for dousing oneself, but at the Festival, the river was right out the front door so one could also dip in the river. Before the anteroom, there is a changing room and then there is usually a relaxation room with a tea pot of some sort and benches and frequently a table where one can drink, eat and hang out before going back to the sauna.
The distinctive part of the sauna experience is the "steaming" with birch branches. This is usually translated as "beating" or "thrashing" in English but that's not very descriptive of the actual process. They heat the sauna quite hot, then one lies down on theomach and they take out the branches which have been soaking in hot water. They hold them up to the top of the sauna to collect hot air and then wave them gently over the body releasing great amounts of heat. Then they press the branches into the body starting at the shoulders and working down to the feet. After that they begin rythmically slapping with the branches gently at first and then with greater force. It takes about five or ten mintues and then you turn over and they do the front. Then you make your way to the river and take a dip. In Altai, there was a full moon so the dip in the river was the most amazing part. I was steamed twice, both times by very accomplished "steamers." I am not crazy about saunas, but the "steaming" and the river were great.
After Altai, Caroline and I went on the bus to Novosibirsk and then waited for our evening train in a most luxurious apartment with Internet, really hot showers, delicious food and great company. Then on to the train.
We left the apartment on Russian time and thus didn't have a chance to shop properly so we didn't have quite enough food but in the morning. One can get off at the longer stops and buy food, but the first stops were in the middle of the night and the platforms were deserted. Also the stops varied in quality as to what was offered. I slept through the best stop. Caroline says she tried to wake me but I wouldn't budge. Fortunately, in the morning we found the restaurant car and had a most pleasant breakfast all by ourselves with a most solicitous waiter. Ham and eggs, coffee, Russian sweet bread, lots of really good butter and peace. It was great. We tried to do this on the way back but because the trains run on Moscow time the timing wasn't right so we had to have lunch instead which wasn't quite as good as breakfast.
The compartments on the train hold four. Two uppers and two lowers. Caroline preferred the uppers because there was more privacy, but I preferred the lower bunks, because I couldn't negotiate the climb in the middle of the night. On the way to Irktusk, we had two very pleasant women in the compartment with us. The way back was more difficult. For some reason, Caroline and I were in separate cars and she was with three women who warmed up to her very slowly. I was in a compartment alone with an older woman who had more memory problems than me and spoke only Russian. With the help of mime and a phrase book, we managed. She wasn't too impressed with an British woman and an American, but there was an Australian couple next door and she was impressed by them. She had seen kangaroos on television and decided that Australia was the country.
Time becomes very strange on these long train rides. It takes 30 hours to get from Novosibirsk to Irkutsk, the jumping off point for Lake Baikal. The trains run on Moscow time which doesn't help and the landscape changes hardly at all for the whole trip. Lots of large fields and lots of birch and pine forest. I slept a lot and I ate a lot, but there never seemed to be a particular reason to do either of them at any specific time. The train rattled, the wheels clicked and then suddenly one was at one's destination.
The ride back from Irkutsk to Yakaterinburg was 50 hours but it didn't seem any different from the first trip. We did manage food better. Caroline and I with the help of our friend Ivan stopeed at a supermarket before we got on the train. Supermarkets in Russia have much more space devoted to delicacies than do American stores -- lots of sausages and prepared meats, salad and fish, lots of cheese, lots of baked goods and lots of beer, vodka and other forms of alcohol. I bought some roast pork and a liver sausage and Caroline had cheese. I also bought some good whole wheat bread and by the time we headed for the train we had several bags of food. By the time we got off, it was almost all gone. I was quite amazed. Caroline spent most of her time with me and the old lady. At one stop, they had crayfish. That was fun. Neither of us had ever eaten crayfish before and Caroline found them quite revolting to look at and touch, but once I had opened them up so she could get at the meat without touching anything disgusting, she found them quite tasty. I have good pictures but I have had trouble connecting my computer via wi-fi and now it is stored in London because I decided not to carry it on the pilgrim trail.
At Yakaterinburg, named after Catherine the Great, we stayed with the woman who has the company that Caroline is laying the piece on. We stayed one night at her apartment and then one night at the amazing apartment that she found for Caroline to stay in for the month she will be there. It belongs to a ballerina in the local ballet company and is all black fringe and acres of gauzy curtains. I found it quite depressing but its location is great and it has all the things an apartment needs so it is really a good deal.
I went to the first class that Caroline did with the company. I am so impressed with the Russian dancers who are interested in experimental work. Very committed, very creative, very inspirational.
The afternoon before I flew to Moscow, we went with Natasha (the company director) to her dacha in the country. It was a collective dacha from the Communist era. Several dachas in a compound each with its own amazingly extensive garden. We munched on carrots freshly pulled from the ground while we made food which included potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, dill, and parsley all freshly picked. Natasha grilled pork and chicken and I made my mother's version of fried green tomatoes (not like the ones in the movie). I flour them and then fry them until they are brown and soft and then add a little milk or cream to make a sauce. They were a big hit. When I wasn't cooking I was running around the backyard with Natasha's two girls, five and two and a half. We didn't have a common language but we stuck out our tongues and made noises and chased each other all around, ending with games of train and "A tisket a tasket" in Russian. This was great fun and made my miss my grandchildren a lot.
O.K. One more Russian blog to go: Lake Baikal
Before that, there are a couple of items I left out of the previous email. The first is my experience in a Russian banya (or sauna to use the Finnish word). There was a banya at the camp in the Altai Mountains and I was accorded teacher's privileges so I could use it free. The sauna room itself is pretty much like a sauna in the United States (although the ones I was in were heated by a wood stove), but there is always an anteroom with steaming hot water in which one can take bucket showers (or wash ones clothes). This room also has cold water for dousing oneself, but at the Festival, the river was right out the front door so one could also dip in the river. Before the anteroom, there is a changing room and then there is usually a relaxation room with a tea pot of some sort and benches and frequently a table where one can drink, eat and hang out before going back to the sauna.
The distinctive part of the sauna experience is the "steaming" with birch branches. This is usually translated as "beating" or "thrashing" in English but that's not very descriptive of the actual process. They heat the sauna quite hot, then one lies down on theomach and they take out the branches which have been soaking in hot water. They hold them up to the top of the sauna to collect hot air and then wave them gently over the body releasing great amounts of heat. Then they press the branches into the body starting at the shoulders and working down to the feet. After that they begin rythmically slapping with the branches gently at first and then with greater force. It takes about five or ten mintues and then you turn over and they do the front. Then you make your way to the river and take a dip. In Altai, there was a full moon so the dip in the river was the most amazing part. I was steamed twice, both times by very accomplished "steamers." I am not crazy about saunas, but the "steaming" and the river were great.
After Altai, Caroline and I went on the bus to Novosibirsk and then waited for our evening train in a most luxurious apartment with Internet, really hot showers, delicious food and great company. Then on to the train.
We left the apartment on Russian time and thus didn't have a chance to shop properly so we didn't have quite enough food but in the morning. One can get off at the longer stops and buy food, but the first stops were in the middle of the night and the platforms were deserted. Also the stops varied in quality as to what was offered. I slept through the best stop. Caroline says she tried to wake me but I wouldn't budge. Fortunately, in the morning we found the restaurant car and had a most pleasant breakfast all by ourselves with a most solicitous waiter. Ham and eggs, coffee, Russian sweet bread, lots of really good butter and peace. It was great. We tried to do this on the way back but because the trains run on Moscow time the timing wasn't right so we had to have lunch instead which wasn't quite as good as breakfast.
The compartments on the train hold four. Two uppers and two lowers. Caroline preferred the uppers because there was more privacy, but I preferred the lower bunks, because I couldn't negotiate the climb in the middle of the night. On the way to Irktusk, we had two very pleasant women in the compartment with us. The way back was more difficult. For some reason, Caroline and I were in separate cars and she was with three women who warmed up to her very slowly. I was in a compartment alone with an older woman who had more memory problems than me and spoke only Russian. With the help of mime and a phrase book, we managed. She wasn't too impressed with an British woman and an American, but there was an Australian couple next door and she was impressed by them. She had seen kangaroos on television and decided that Australia was the country.
Time becomes very strange on these long train rides. It takes 30 hours to get from Novosibirsk to Irkutsk, the jumping off point for Lake Baikal. The trains run on Moscow time which doesn't help and the landscape changes hardly at all for the whole trip. Lots of large fields and lots of birch and pine forest. I slept a lot and I ate a lot, but there never seemed to be a particular reason to do either of them at any specific time. The train rattled, the wheels clicked and then suddenly one was at one's destination.
The ride back from Irkutsk to Yakaterinburg was 50 hours but it didn't seem any different from the first trip. We did manage food better. Caroline and I with the help of our friend Ivan stopeed at a supermarket before we got on the train. Supermarkets in Russia have much more space devoted to delicacies than do American stores -- lots of sausages and prepared meats, salad and fish, lots of cheese, lots of baked goods and lots of beer, vodka and other forms of alcohol. I bought some roast pork and a liver sausage and Caroline had cheese. I also bought some good whole wheat bread and by the time we headed for the train we had several bags of food. By the time we got off, it was almost all gone. I was quite amazed. Caroline spent most of her time with me and the old lady. At one stop, they had crayfish. That was fun. Neither of us had ever eaten crayfish before and Caroline found them quite revolting to look at and touch, but once I had opened them up so she could get at the meat without touching anything disgusting, she found them quite tasty. I have good pictures but I have had trouble connecting my computer via wi-fi and now it is stored in London because I decided not to carry it on the pilgrim trail.
At Yakaterinburg, named after Catherine the Great, we stayed with the woman who has the company that Caroline is laying the piece on. We stayed one night at her apartment and then one night at the amazing apartment that she found for Caroline to stay in for the month she will be there. It belongs to a ballerina in the local ballet company and is all black fringe and acres of gauzy curtains. I found it quite depressing but its location is great and it has all the things an apartment needs so it is really a good deal.
I went to the first class that Caroline did with the company. I am so impressed with the Russian dancers who are interested in experimental work. Very committed, very creative, very inspirational.
The afternoon before I flew to Moscow, we went with Natasha (the company director) to her dacha in the country. It was a collective dacha from the Communist era. Several dachas in a compound each with its own amazingly extensive garden. We munched on carrots freshly pulled from the ground while we made food which included potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, dill, and parsley all freshly picked. Natasha grilled pork and chicken and I made my mother's version of fried green tomatoes (not like the ones in the movie). I flour them and then fry them until they are brown and soft and then add a little milk or cream to make a sauce. They were a big hit. When I wasn't cooking I was running around the backyard with Natasha's two girls, five and two and a half. We didn't have a common language but we stuck out our tongues and made noises and chased each other all around, ending with games of train and "A tisket a tasket" in Russian. This was great fun and made my miss my grandchildren a lot.
O.K. One more Russian blog to go: Lake Baikal
Monday, August 24, 2009
The First Siberian Contact Improvisation Festival
I am back in Moscow on my way to London on my way to Spain. It has been a wonderful, exhausting, trying, inspirational, confusing, and mind-twisting (among other things) trip.
In the last episode we were leaving Moscow on our way to Novosibirsk the capital of Siberia. Before this I thought of Siberia as being in the far north, but actually it is most of Russia east of the Ural Mountains and goes down to the southern border. The flight to Novosibirsk was uneventful and we were met by Masha, one of the organizers. We then spent a lot of time in a post office because Caroline's and Otto's registration turned out to be incorrect. Don't ask but if you ever come to Russia and stay in one place more than three days, you will have to register. Check you registration immediately! If the dates are incorrect it turns out to be an unpleasant, time-consuming hassle. I spent a lot of time copying forms using cyrillic characters, but all to no avail. What we had to do couldn't be done there. Eventually we were brought to a pleasant spot by a river where we got on a bus for the eight hour drive into the Altai mountains. By this time it was 7:30 at night so the interesting part of the journey happened in the night. We arrived at the camp where the festival was held as the sun was coming up so we had no idea where we were. The camp was pleasant enough, up to the usual summer Bible camp standards of my youth. It was beside the Katun river, a cold, beautiful, fast-moving and noisy affair. The first day was spent getting organized. It turned out to be rainier than expected so by the next day, the first day of classes, everything had been reorganized and the schedule had changed. There were only three of us who didn't speak Russian and they kept forgetting to translate important details so the first days were confusing and sometimes frustrating. However, everything sorted itself out.
I wasn't teaching but I did two laboratories. The first was an ongoing "unannounced performance" lab which was basically a practical investigation of performance theory leading to an "announced 'unannounced performance' performance" which went very well. The participants were eager and asked very interesting questions and did very interesting work. At the end of the festival I did a second lab on sound and movement. The first part was a basic sound production warm-up leaving to movement and in the second part we went outside and did some work with movement and language using a combination of Simone Forti's and my own techniques.
I was very happy with the work the participants and I did together and I have made some connections which I hope prove to be ungoing.
There was a two-day break in the festival and Caroline and I joined a trek to seven glacial lakes higher in the mountains. This turned out to be grueling. Food was disorganized so all we had for breakfast was what we could get at an understocked little store. Then we road on a bus for an hour or so to a place where we transferred to a monster of an army-surplus four-wheel drive truck. It followed a barely existant trail for two hours while we bounced around inside on very uncomfortable seats. The windows barely existed so we couldn't see where we were going. Eventually five us wedged ourselves together on a long backwards facing seat and lay down on each other and so stayed in place and actually slept for awhile. On the way back, the others insisted that Caroline and I sit up front with the drive. We saw then that the road was two more or less parallel ruts through the woods. The truck was too big for the bridges so it forded the many streams. It seemed as if there was more water than road.
Finally we came to the starting point. Caroline got on a horse and I hiked. The way up was muddy but the rise in elevation was not too bad. I took it slow and made it. At the top there was a camp with a kitchen where they cooked over a wood fire. We had delicious soup and a macaroni and ground beef dish that tasted delicious after our ordeal. Then it was time to walk around the lakes just as a thunder-storm started. I donned my parka and headed out in pouring rain. The lakes are basically set in a stony swamp so the whole walk was on very slippery rocks. The lakes however, were beautiful and when the group climbed up to the top of a waterfall, I stayed put and had an hour and a half by myself alone in the Altai Mountains.
The Altai Mountains are not high but they are home to an indigenous people and they are many legends surrounding them and they are seen as a mysterious and powerful place. There is an eerie weirdness about them that grows on one. The wind blew, the trees groaned, the waterfall sang and I was very happy.
On the hike down, I was very tired and began to fall a lot. A husband and wife from St. Petersburg who spoke English adopted me and one walked ahead and the other followed and I made it to the bottom in one piece although I did have some spectacular falls. On one, before they took pity on me I bruised my right side so that even now it is a colorful sight.
The spell check isn't working, and I have to catch a plain to London so this is it.
Next time, Lake Baikal, Irkutsk and the Trans-Siberian Train (definitely not an express).
In the last episode we were leaving Moscow on our way to Novosibirsk the capital of Siberia. Before this I thought of Siberia as being in the far north, but actually it is most of Russia east of the Ural Mountains and goes down to the southern border. The flight to Novosibirsk was uneventful and we were met by Masha, one of the organizers. We then spent a lot of time in a post office because Caroline's and Otto's registration turned out to be incorrect. Don't ask but if you ever come to Russia and stay in one place more than three days, you will have to register. Check you registration immediately! If the dates are incorrect it turns out to be an unpleasant, time-consuming hassle. I spent a lot of time copying forms using cyrillic characters, but all to no avail. What we had to do couldn't be done there. Eventually we were brought to a pleasant spot by a river where we got on a bus for the eight hour drive into the Altai mountains. By this time it was 7:30 at night so the interesting part of the journey happened in the night. We arrived at the camp where the festival was held as the sun was coming up so we had no idea where we were. The camp was pleasant enough, up to the usual summer Bible camp standards of my youth. It was beside the Katun river, a cold, beautiful, fast-moving and noisy affair. The first day was spent getting organized. It turned out to be rainier than expected so by the next day, the first day of classes, everything had been reorganized and the schedule had changed. There were only three of us who didn't speak Russian and they kept forgetting to translate important details so the first days were confusing and sometimes frustrating. However, everything sorted itself out.
I wasn't teaching but I did two laboratories. The first was an ongoing "unannounced performance" lab which was basically a practical investigation of performance theory leading to an "announced 'unannounced performance' performance" which went very well. The participants were eager and asked very interesting questions and did very interesting work. At the end of the festival I did a second lab on sound and movement. The first part was a basic sound production warm-up leaving to movement and in the second part we went outside and did some work with movement and language using a combination of Simone Forti's and my own techniques.
I was very happy with the work the participants and I did together and I have made some connections which I hope prove to be ungoing.
There was a two-day break in the festival and Caroline and I joined a trek to seven glacial lakes higher in the mountains. This turned out to be grueling. Food was disorganized so all we had for breakfast was what we could get at an understocked little store. Then we road on a bus for an hour or so to a place where we transferred to a monster of an army-surplus four-wheel drive truck. It followed a barely existant trail for two hours while we bounced around inside on very uncomfortable seats. The windows barely existed so we couldn't see where we were going. Eventually five us wedged ourselves together on a long backwards facing seat and lay down on each other and so stayed in place and actually slept for awhile. On the way back, the others insisted that Caroline and I sit up front with the drive. We saw then that the road was two more or less parallel ruts through the woods. The truck was too big for the bridges so it forded the many streams. It seemed as if there was more water than road.
Finally we came to the starting point. Caroline got on a horse and I hiked. The way up was muddy but the rise in elevation was not too bad. I took it slow and made it. At the top there was a camp with a kitchen where they cooked over a wood fire. We had delicious soup and a macaroni and ground beef dish that tasted delicious after our ordeal. Then it was time to walk around the lakes just as a thunder-storm started. I donned my parka and headed out in pouring rain. The lakes are basically set in a stony swamp so the whole walk was on very slippery rocks. The lakes however, were beautiful and when the group climbed up to the top of a waterfall, I stayed put and had an hour and a half by myself alone in the Altai Mountains.
The Altai Mountains are not high but they are home to an indigenous people and they are many legends surrounding them and they are seen as a mysterious and powerful place. There is an eerie weirdness about them that grows on one. The wind blew, the trees groaned, the waterfall sang and I was very happy.
On the hike down, I was very tired and began to fall a lot. A husband and wife from St. Petersburg who spoke English adopted me and one walked ahead and the other followed and I made it to the bottom in one piece although I did have some spectacular falls. On one, before they took pity on me I bruised my right side so that even now it is a colorful sight.
The spell check isn't working, and I have to catch a plain to London so this is it.
Next time, Lake Baikal, Irkutsk and the Trans-Siberian Train (definitely not an express).
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