TRAVELOGUE #13

When: Wednesday, June 21
Where: Siberia (#5 Train)

One week in.

I woke up this morning in a new country. I was warned the boarder crossing into Russia would be a tedious eleven hours. Not so, it was only nine, and I was asleep for most of it. The hills here are still velvety green, although now dotted with pine trees. I got up at 6 AM (my cabin mate is amazed at how fast I fall asleep since he was tossing like Caesar salad until 4 AM). I walked to the small space in between the cars to take in the scenery. I have come to realize this is the best place for landscape watching since there are both north and south facing windows. Outside in place of yurts there were charming, although weathered and slightly dilapidated wooden homes. Most of these homes were dark in color except for bright blue/green shutters that when opened, revealed white gossamer curtains. These Russians seem to be all about the white lacey curtains! All of the homes were framed by tall wooden fences, like two arms thrown around the yard. These yards were almost 100% committed to very thoughtfully constructed family gardens. At first it was too early, but soon I started to see people walking the length of graveled alleyways. There were babushkas in kitchen smocks and kerchiefs and old men on doorsteps with gnarly bed head, pounding cans of beer; all this at the foot of lovely, verdant hills. There was something so appealing to me about the simplicity of this provincial life. I wanted nothing more than to bound from the train and join them in their daily routines.