Sagaalgan

Sagaan haraar! Sagaalganaar! These words echoed throughout Buryatia on February 22, the day that marks Sagaalgan, Buddhist New Year and the first day of White Month. Sagaalgan may be the most important Buryat holiday and marks the transition from winter to spring. As Sagaalgan approached, I began to wonder how I would be taking part in the celebrations, until I received a call from my research advisor. "Brian, we are bringing Japanese Santa Claus to Buryatia for Sagaalgan. Do you want to travel around on the bus with him?" "Uh, sure..." "Also, you're going to judge buuzy with me." "Sweet."
So, I showed up on Soviet Square on Sagaalgan to judge buuzy. There was a huge stage set up in the center of the square, where people were singing traditional songs and dancing. As I was waiting, the mayor of Ulan-Ude spoke, and then the four fairy-tale heroes came onstage. These were to be my travel companions, so I'll give you some background info.
Our first hero is Sagaan Ubgen, Bely Starets, or White Old Man. This character is associated with Buddhism and makes appearances every year around Sagaalgan. The man who played Sagaan Ubgen was a dignified old man who was in the Red Army in the 1960s and was involved in theater for much of his life.
Our second hero the Evenk Matushka Zima, or Mother Winter, Tugeni Enyoken. The Evenk are a minority population that mostly live to the north of Baikal. Unfortunately, I didn't have much opportunity to speak much with Mother Winter, but I know that she is a recent graduate from Irkutsk.
Our next hero is Sohk-Ireya, Old Man Frost from Tuva. The man who played Sohk-Ireya is Edward Ondar, a famous actor from Tuva as well as an excellent throat singer.
Finally, the most surreal hero was Yamamoto, the Japanese Santa Claus. This man, whose full name is Paradise Yamamoto, first worked as an automobile designer for Subaru. After he got tired of that (or something), he became interested in Mambonsai art and music. A few years ago, he became the first Asian to become an accredited Santa Claus. It was an absolute pleasure to speak with this man.
So, as I mentioned, I was to judge buuzy (traditional Buryat meat dumplings). While this experience was fully delicious, it was not super interesting, so I'll just note that I gave the highest marks of anyone, which clearly reflects on my lack of buuzy expertise.
After the judging, I went to the Ethnographic Museum with the fairy-tale heroes. The Ethnographic Museum was packed with children waiting to see Santa Claus and the other Christmas characters. I was also surprised to see many of my fellow riders from the hippodrome, who were there to drive horse-drawn sleighs for the heroes. The ethnographic museum consists of several old homes that were relocated due to the increase in Baikal's water level after the dam installed for Irkutsk Energy. Each of these homes represented a different culture of the region. There were representative contingents of each culture to meet the heroes and offer each a small meal. These included Old Believers, Eastern Buryats, Western Buryats, and Evenks. This experience represented much of what I believe makes Buryatia a wonderful place: all major cultures and peoples were represented without any attempts to show one culture more than another.

The next morning, we set out for Baikal. We made our first stop in a Monastery in Troitskoe, a village in the Pribaikal Region of Buryatia. They are currently rebuilding the monastery, as it was used as a mental hospital in the Soviet era. One of the monks gave us a tour around the place. We then went to the shore of Baikal in the Kabansk region. Our first stop was a shamanist holy site up on a hill overlooking Baikal, Usan-Lobson. There, we danced in a circle around an evergreen tree. Finally, we got to the hotel in Enkheluk, which is one of the most well-known tourist towns in Buryatia.
In Enkheluk, the heroes participated in an event called Sagaalgan on Baikal. There were more than 60 kids there to play games and see various cultural performance. Unfortunately for me, this meant standing outside in deep snow for several hours, something my shoes were not exactly made to handle. After hearing my distress, the director of tourism of the Kabansk region reached into her purse, pulled out two sanitary napkins, and stuck them to the soles of my shoes. It worked. Apparently, Russian hunters and ice-fishers use this technique quite often.
After the games, the fairy tale heroes went ice fishing for about five minutes, but then they got too cold and decided to move on. This is when me and some of the other tour operators got separated from the group. We dropped by a Ministry of Extreme Events camp on Baikal and had some tea while we tried to regroup. After we left and were walking down the road, I saw something that I will never forget. At an intersection about 300-400 meters in front of us, a four-wheeler wizzed by. This first ATV caught my attention. A few seconds later, Santa Clause went flew by. Then Father Frost from Tuva. It was too surreal.
As we caught up with the other tour operators, we began to go on a tour of various hotels in the town. The first we went to was a hunter's cabin that one man had made entirely by himself. It was completely awesome. Then, we went to a hotel called Sakura (the owner went to Japan once), which was nice, reasonably priced, and they were building a nicely sized pool. The next hotel was the first hotel I've seen in Buryatia that was absolutely as nice as a brand-new Marriot, or something else of that calliber. It was filled with big-screen LCD TVs, tasteful decor, and they even had a Wii in the lounge. But the prices were ridiculous. The owner spent a nearly uncomfortable amount of time drooling over me, the American. As we left, one of the women who owned a different local hotel that I hadn't gotten to see, was quite let down. She was worried that the competition of such a nice hotel would make it difficult for her to do business. She asked me to come by and check out her hotel and give her advice. Which I did gladly, as she was an extremely friendly woman. I really liked her place and told her to call it a Bed and Breakfast in English. And now I'll shamelessly advertise for her: http://na-baikale.ru/ If you want to go to Baikal, stay with her. If you tell her you know me, she'll probably be even nicer than she already is.
That evening, we ate dinner at the hotel and I heard some of the most wonderful toasts that I've ever heard. But that's typical of life here in Buryatia, especially when the subject is Baikal.
The next morning, we got up early and went to a children's home. Again, we saw many different cultural presentations and the heroes got to interact with several children, which was really cute. When we got back to Ulan-Ude, I was very disappointed to say goodbye to the heroes and tour operators. Of course, several of us exchanged contact info, but such a magical few days may never repeat itself. Although, in Buryatia, you never know what can happen.

Moscow-Vladivostok

After my time in Kazan, I flew to Moscow, where all of the Fulbrighters were gathering to have our final orientation. It's actually quite disappointing that this will be our last time all together as a group. For those of you Fulbrighters that might stumble upon this post, thanks a lot for your presentations in Moscow. You helped me get mentally prepared to return to Ulan-Ude and really get some work done. Other than the orientation, I had a wonderful time in Moscow going clubbing with the Fulbrighters (and having adventures at Subway) and eating Georgian food.
I then flew to Vladivostok with two other Fulbrighters. There were several remarkable parts of the travel experience itself. First off, I've never flown out of Moscow Vnukovo airport. I was assuming that it just barely be a step up from the Kazan or Irkutsk airports, but it was actually the nicest airport I've been in in Russia. Completely new, huge, and without the insane crowds of Domodedovo. Secondly, I take great efforts to avoid flying on Russian planes, especially Tupolev planes. So, when booking this flight, I made sure to book on the Airbus plane. Unfortunately, as we approached our plane, it was the Tupolev version of the Boeing 767/Airbus A320. "Ok," I told myself at a slightly panicked pace of thought, "these planes fly all the time without too many crashes." After getting on the plane, all seemed fine. It looked almost exactly like the interior of an A320. "I'll survive this." My chair was the most uncomfortable chair that I have ever flown in. "No big deal, it's just a chair. At least they cut costs here and not somewhere else, right? Right?" After deicing and other pre-takeoff activities, we were at the end of the runway (sidenote, this is the first flight I've ever been on with no English). As we began speeding up, all seemed fine. Regular acceleration, not too bumpy. But then we left the ground. My ears immediately began popping. Weightlessness. "We're falling out of the sky. I'm going to die." The only way I can really describe the next 10 minutes of the flight is "hurtling through the air." I don't know how Boeing or Airbus does it, but my ears pop a little and everything feels under control. This was the first time I could actually tell that I was speeding through midair at upwards of 500 miles an hour. And then we reached cruising altitude (which was much lower than I've seen before). And then it was the smoothest 9 hour flight that I've ever been on. Landing was pretty uneventful as well (except I've never been in a ruder crowd at a baggage claim.)
We slept almost all day thanks to jetlag (Vladivostok is 8 hours ahead of Moscow). When we finally made it out, we went to the central square, which contains the biggest middle finger to the West (in this case, East) that I've ever scene. For those of you unfamiliar with the history of the Russian Civil War, after Russia left World War I and the Bolsheviks claimed power, the territory of Russia was embroiled in one of the bloodiest conflicts in world history. The main participants were the Red Army, the Whites (monarchists and democrats), and the Allied Intervention (Japan, USA, UK, etc.). Vladivostok was occupied by Japan. The occupation of Vladivostok by the Red Army in 1922 is considered by most historians to be the end of the Russian Civil War. The main square has a large statue facing East with text honoring the partisan forces who defended the city from intruders.
That night, I had the best sushi I've ever had. We then spent much of the night getting to know the other guests at the hostel. There was another girl from Ulan-Ude and several Koreans. There's a ferry that runs from South Korea to Vladivostok, so Vladivostok is a popular tourist destination for Asian tourists.

The next day, we took the funicular to the top of the city. A funicular is a small train that only goes up a hill. It cost about 25 cents. It took us to the top of the city. From there, it was possibile to see much of Golden Horn Bay and the Golden Horn Bridge, one of two cable-stayed bridges being built in Vladivostok (the other one will be the largest in the world).
We then descended down to the shoreline, where we found an old Soviet submarine. This sub was the most successful Soviet sub during World War II, having sunk 10 Nazi subs. You could wander around inside and see much of the original interior. I took full advantage of the photo opportunities.
That night, we got on the Trans-Siberian to head home, to Ulan-Ude. 3 days on the train is difficult to quantify. While on the train, it feels like 3 days. However, once you step off, you can't believe that three days have just passed. Most of the time on the train consisted of sleeping, playing Euchre, and watching Game of Thrones. I did venture to the restaurant car once, where I was befriended by a group of typical train-traveling Russian males and obliged to have some beers. I also managed to buy a meal and a computer charge for just one dollar (the men and the waitress were astounded by my American money). I felt guilty, but I did try to convince them to take more, and they did ask to see it in the first place!
So, that's my journey, summarized for the interwebs. Now, life is back to normal, perhaps even more so than 2 months ago. I have deadlines now, which will hopefully help me keep on task. So, if I don't post again for awhile, you understand why.

Moscow-Kazan

The last month I've had has been filled with some of the most blog-worthy moments of my time in Russia, but life on the road isn't conducive to blogging (at least in Russia, without Internet access). I recall thinking many time, oh I can't wait to blog about this, only to have that moment replaced by a new experience the next day. All I had along with me to record my trip was my camera. So, hopefully with the help of some photos, I'll be able to piece together some of my more interesting moments traveling through this unfathomably large country.
When I last posted, I was sitting in a hostel in Moscow, having just flown back to this country that I will be calling for another 5 months. Upon finishing that blog post, I embarked on one of my first major adventures of my Trans-Siberian travels. I convinced one of my Moscow friends with a car to drive me, another girl from Moscow, and another visiting friend from the States out to Sergiev Posad, the site of arguably the holiest monastery in all of Russian orthodox, the Trinity Lavra. The Trinity Lavra was founded by St. Sergius of Radonezh, one of the most venerated saints in orthodox history and the subject of one of my favorite paintings by Nesterov, and still contains his relics. The day we went to the monastery happened to be Russian Christmas Eve, so it was packed with pilgrims from all over Russia. We stood in line outside of the Trinity Cathedral (which contains the relics) for nearly an hour. Upon entering, it still took us nearly an hour to circle around the icons and get to the relics. While observing how people would light candles in front of the relics, cross themselves, and bow (because I soon would have to copy what I had seen as well as I could), I watched a man stumble up the altar. He stopped in front of the relics and managed to cross himself once before collapsing into a wailing, sobbing heap. A man who accompanied him attempted to get him to his feet, but to no avail. The main continued sobbing and clawing at the base of the gold-covered container that held St. Sergius' relics. After a few more minutes, several monks rushed in and carried the man away with extremely annoyed expressions on their faces. My two Russian Orthodox friends said that he was likely just too weak from the fasting that pious Orthodox believers often do before Christmas. My own candle lighting was much less attention-grabbing. I awkwardly crossed myself, bowed, and then waited while woman who had just cut in front me lit upwards of 10 candles.
Fast forward a few days. After my day wandering around Vladimir (which was completely non-eventful), I met an British English teacher who was taking his holidays by traveling the Golden Ring. We found out that we were both planning on traveling to Suzdal the next morning, so we agreed to band together. We hopped on the bus to Suzdal and rode through the flat, snow-covered Russian countryside for about 45 minutes. Suzdal is one of the only towns in Russia that was not Sovietized. It is filled with churches, monasteries, and old wooden cottages. It takes about 30 minutes to walk from one edge of town to the other. Very little out of the ordinary occurred during my time in Suzdal. It was really just like hopping into a time machine and seeing what Russia was like 100 years ago. Suzdal was where I began wandering places that I probably shouldn't have wandered, but I got great pictures thanks to it. For example, I wandered along the side of the small cliff that the St. Euthymius Monastery is one and ended up next to the gates of a huge, brand-new mansion with absolutely no houses near it for several hundred meters. The view from the mansion looked something like this:

I don't know much about Russian property value, but I'm pretty sure someone payed at least 10 million dollars for a place like this. My practice of wandering where I shouldn't continued in Nizhny Novgorod.
Nizhny Novgorod is the 5th largest city in Russia. It was renamed to Gorky during the Soviet era, but its original name was returned after the fall of the Soviet Union. Nizhny Novgorod is geographical interesting due to its location on the T-Intersection of two rivers: the Volga (the Russian Mississippi) and the Oka. The Oka divides the city into what I call the old side and the Soviet side. The Volga divides the city into what I call "city" and "wasteland."

Tank firing across the Volga at "Wasteland"

One of the most frustrating things about public transportation in the city is that only two bridges connect Old City to Soviet City (one of these bridges was finished only a year or two ago, I'm so glad I came after that). The Nizhny Novgorod metro has "two" lines, but right now the two ends are connected. It currently only runs on the Soviet Side. Nearly everything that I wanted to see was on the Old side. I was informed that the first metro station in the Old City will open this November. That will make getting around the city much much easier.
One of my first major concerns during my entire trip was making sure that the Gorky Train Station was actually the Nizhny Novgorod-Moscow Train Station. When your ticket says one thing and Google Maps another, it makes things worrisome. Fortunately, this trip convinced me once and for all the Google Maps is not a fit travel companion in Russia. Upon my arrival, I had little to guide me to my hostel except for my utterly worthless map from Google. So, I hopped in a cab. Upon arrival at the hostel, the hostess annoyedly informed me that I should have reserved ahead. When I showed her my receipt and reservation number, she shut up. I was the only person in the hostel.
After unpacking, I asked which places I should check out. She could only come up with the Kremlin.

Well, duh. So, I made my way to the Kremlin, stopped in the museums (which were very bland) and picked up a few maps and tour booklets. The first museum to catch my eye was the Maxim Gorky house museum. For those of you who aren't familiar with Russian literature, Gorky was extremely influential in both the late pre-Soviet era and the early years of Socialist Realism (so much so that he is considered the father of Socialist Realism). So I headed to the museum. When I walked in, it was quickly obvious that I was one of the first non-child visitors in quite some time. The fact that I was a Russian-speaking American raised the level of excitement to an even higher notch. After first eyeing me with suspicion after I requested a Russian guidebook, the museum workers quickly warmed up to me, inviting me to enter roped off areas and telling me that I was marvelous and should marry their grand-daughters. The museum itself was fantastic, filled with Gorky's library and art collection. There was even a signed picture of Chekhov on Gorky's desk. I bought all of my Nizhny Novgorod souvenirs from the museum (I have a special spot in my heart after working at a Russian museum).
Upon leaving the museum, I decided that I wanted to see the main monastery before the sun went down. This proved to be more difficult than I expected, but once again resulted in me going to somewhere off the beaten path and great picture opportunities. According to the map, the monastery was on the cliff on the Oka River, so I walked over there. Upon my arrival at the cliff, I realized that there was no path down the cliff to the monastery, but ridiculously great views of the city.

My other favorite part of Nizhny Novgorod was the Chkalov Staircase. It is the largest staircase on the Volga River (what does that mean?) and was built in honor of World War II. According to one booklet I read (I have not managed to find other information confirming this), the architect was given a blank check by Stalin to build the monument. However, once it was built, Stalin decided that the architect had actually spent too much and sent him to the GULAG. At least the staircase is actually pretty sweet.

After 2 days, I hopped on the overnight train to Kazan, the capital of Tatarstan and the home to the most Fulbrights of any other city in Russia. After a non-eventful train ride, I arrived in Kazan. I spent most of the first day sleeping and relaxing after two weeks of constant awareness of where all of my belongings were. After that, I began exploring. Kazan is super wealthy. Tatarstan has a lot of oil, and that oil money goes towards building new buildings, renovating museums, ice hockey arenas, and more. Therefore, much of Kazan is absolutely beautiful. It also has a mosque in its Kremlin.

Kazan has the nicest grocery stores I've been in in Russia as well (just throwing that out there). I spent most of my time with the other Fulbrights, just seeing how they live. In terms of actual style of life and workload, they live very much like me. But in terms of social circles, the existence of other Fulbrights in close proximity is difficult to resist. While they all have Russian friends, they also see each other fairly regularly. It doesn't help that all Fulbright fellows are awesome by definition (at least in terms of how easily we all get along with each other). Kazan gave me a good opportunity to compare my experience with that of multiple other Fellows. My quality of life might be lower here. It might be way colder out here. But I have no temptations to hang out with other Americans because there really aren't any. It's an interesting little exchange that I was only superficially aware of when I chose Ulan-Ude, but my travels have made it much more visible.