Pictures from Siberia

Last night I invited some friends over to see a selection of pictures from Siberia and elsewhere in Russia, of which the above shot of a Bactrian camel near Listvianka was one.( Only two or three people fell asleep.) Unfortunately I knew nothing about this camel, but since he appeared to be tethered in fields surrounding a wooden architecture museum I suspected he might be a tourist attraction.

I was impressed, since he was the first camel of his type I had ever seen outside a zoo. I was also interested in some of the questions people asked about the trip, such as whether we got to wander around on our own very much. I had to admit we did not, surveillance was almost as tight as it had been in Soviet days. I don't know whether this is a feature of Friendship Force tours generally, or simply of such tours in Russia. Russia does still restrict travel by foreigners, by forcing them to say where they will be staying during the period of their visas, and then having their visas registered in each city they visit. However, within cities travelling around on your own is no longer a problem.

In case of the particular circumstances of my visit to Siberia, the ability to wander around alone would not have been a big benefit. I was staying in a very comfortable house in a suburb of Irkutsk that was itself within a gated community. I did wander around some, but the only place to go was into fields or, if you wanted a very long hike, past a great number of other comfortable houses down to the gate house near the highway.

Distances in Russia and especially in Siberia are very great, so wandering around alone is not something many people would be comfortable doing, I suspect. And while very good travel experiences can come from such excursions, in travel as in life there are always trade-offs. The chance to get to know some Russians and to be a guest in their homes seemed to justify the small price of a certain arount of restriction.

I am often surprised by the misconceptions people, including myself, have of certain regions and countries. That is one of the great joys of travel, the ability to peel back at least one or two layers of the onion that constitutes other countries and cultures. On this trip I was very pleasantly surprised by Siberia, and also astounded by the extent of the icy mountain ranges I could see from the window of the plane as we flew over Greenland en route from Moscow to Washington DC.

Siberian Dawn

I've just discovered still another winning entry in the competition among English-speaking writers on Siberia. It's titled "Siberian Dawn: A Journey across the New Russia" by Jeffrey Tayler, published in 1999. It is based on an overland trip he took from Magadan in extreme northeastern Russia to Poland in 1993, when the shackles of Communism were just beginning to fall off Russia's extremities.


It is an excellent book, but very different from Ian Frazier's more recent book on travelling in Siberia. Like Frazier, Tayler is an American, but considerably younger and with far better command of the Russian language. In fact, he can pass for a native and on checking up on him, I discovered that he still lives in Russia although his most recent book is about the Congo.


His book is quite personal, detailing how he undertook this journey out of a need to live in the present as much as possible, and to penetrate beneath the surface of Russian life in a way that you cannot do when you stay in expensive hotels.


Along his very arduous route Tayler encountered many interesting characters, mainly working men and women living in remote areas. He travelled both by road and by train, and stayed in many dodgy places. Much of his journey took place in winter, the quintessential Siberian season.


Unlike Frazier, Tayler does not allude to earlier Americans who travelled in the region and wrote about it. But he does write well, and obviously has the knack of getting perfect strangers to open up about their lives.


His book is a worthy addition to Western writing about Russia, and an easy read. The edifice below  is a typical Siberian wooden church at an open air museum near Lake Baikal on the road from Irkutsk to Litvianka.

Buryats and Baikal

To the Buryats, an Asiatic ethnic group who live in the region of Lake Baikal, the lake is sacred. The Buryats have their own autonomous region, with its capital at Ulan Ude on the eastern side of the lake. According to Ian Frazier's "Travels in Siberia," a train runs along the southern shore of the lake and connects Irkutsk to Ulan Ude, a trip that takes about 24 hours and sounds fas-cinating. Ulan Ude is also easy to reach by plane from Moscow or other Siberian cities.
But even without visiting Ulan Ude, you will see evidence of the Buryats in and near Irkutsk. They are a shamanistic people, and there are many spots where particular trees and bushes are decked with colourful ribbons that pay tribute to nature spirits. It is a local custom when passing such places to stop and tie a ribbon. I also observed people throwing small coins toward the trees.
The Buryats are believed to have originated in Mongolia and to have travelled north to escape persecution by the Buddhists many centuries ago. Who knew Buddhists persecuted people? Today about a quarter million Buryats live in the Baikal region, and some of their cuisine is popular with locals and visitors alike. A particularly delicious treat is a meat-filled pastry called a pozhe, brimming with hot gravy. Keep reading for information on where to get good pozhes near Irkutsk.

The picture below

is of the writer at a Buryat shrine on the road from Irkutsk to the Small Sea of Lake Baikal.

Impressions of Irkutsk

Irkutsk, which lies six hours by plane or three days by rail east of Moscow, is the capital of Eastern Siberia. A city of some 600,000, it seemed bustling with new wealth and new development, in addition to significant pockets of poverty. In my first three days in Irkutsk I saw three traffic accidents, compared with none on the rest of a three week trip. Irkutsk drivers may be reckless, but most of the cars I saw were shiny and new.
Once known as the Paris of Siberia, it was the place of exile for most of the noble revolutionaries known as the Dekabrists, who were sent here following their failed revolt in December of 1825. I stayed in a large comfortable house in a suburb of the city(gated, naturally) that is named for the Dekabrists. It was strange but pleasant after an uneventful flight that landed at about 5:30 a.m. Irkutsk time to be greeted by a smiling, fashionably attired host who led us to her sparkling clean European SUV. then took us to her home not far from the airport, fed us breakfast and let us rest for a few hours to beat the effects of jet lag.
She later drove us downtown and showed us the sights, including a large park overlooking the wide Angara River. It was the last day of school for Irkutsk students, and the park was full of soon -to- be high school graduates celebrating what they call Last Bell. The girls were dressed in black with lacy white aprons and small headdresses, which reminded me of native Breton costume. They had small silver bells pinned to their dresses, and everyone was in a cheerful mood.
On a later sightseeing tour we visited the square of three churches, two Russian orthodox dating from the early 18th century and a Roman Catholic cathedral built by Polish exiles in the late 19th century. It is the largest Roman Catholic church I have seen in Russia, and still holds services.
The main streets of Irkutsk are still named after Communist heroes, Karl Marx and Lenin, and it is really possible to say, "Meet you at the corner of Marx and Lenin." Some of my Marxist professors would be delighted.

The Cathedral of the Epiphany, built in 1718, is on the square of three churches and is often used as a symbol of the city. It is in a style known today as Siberian baroque, and is pictured below. A nearby church, the Church of the Saviour, is built on the spot where Cossacks founded Irkutsk more than 300 years ago.

Travels in Siberia

That is the title of a wonderful book I'm reading, written by Ian Frazier and published in 2010. Some articles based on the book appeared earlier in the New Yorker. It is a worthy addition to the reams of travel literature that already exist about this fabled, feared part of the world that, as Frazier points out, does not really exist on a map. (However, Eastern and Western Siberia do exist as administrative subdivisions of Russia.)


Frazier is a native of Ohio, like me, and notes that many other Ohioans have been captivated by and written about Siberia. Best known is the great 19th century traveller George Kennan, who is not to be confused with his relative George F. Kennan, diplomat and historian who wrote the article in a 1947 issue of Foreign Affairs that enunciated a containment policy for the Soviet Union that was soon adopted by the U.S. and other Western governments.


Other well-known travel writers about Siberia include Farley Mowat, Paul Theroux, Dervla Murphy and Colin Thubron. I have read books by all of them having to do with Siberia, and enjoyed every one.


Frazier did not become fascinated by Russia until the 1990s, after the Iron Curtain had fallen. He writes of his many visits to the country, his attempts (eventually successful) to learn the language in middle age, an achievement I admire greatly. His trips culminated with a seven week driving trip across country starting in St. Petersburg, and camping out much of the time along with his two Russian guides.


If you hope to visit Siberia some day, or just want to read about what it is like now, this book is an excellent guide.