What a Long Strange Trip It's Been

Y'all probably think I'm dead by now or something crazy like that since it's been more than a month since I've written the grand blog. Well (thankfully) you're wrong. My excuse: not necessarily being lazy, or experiencing writer’s block; it's just that I've been on a long strange trip across 3 continents, 4 countries and nearly all the world's time zones. So give me a break!

On my last blog, I told you how I had no clue where I was going or where I was going to end up. I had many options, but at the last second I chose East- right across the infamous Siberian tundra. And how? Well just as any good citizen of mother Russia would travel- train. Yep, I took the Trans-Siberian. Why not??? (Keep in mind, the summary of this voyage is about 1/1000 of everything. It is just impossible to describe so much on this tiny blog. So, use your imagination!
I left Moscow that Saturday night knowing that I would have 4 nights on the train until I reached Irkutsk- a small city in the middle of Siberia roughly 100 km from Lake Baikal. Those four nights were absolutely insane! My cabin itself was interesting. A former member of the communist party and a young girl returning home from seeing her boyfriend in the Ukraine were the 2 permanent members. Our other roommate kept changing (since the Trans-Sib makes many stops along the way, picking up and dropping off passengers constantly). Nonetheless, the third person for the first night was a mid aged guy named Aleks returning home after visiting family in Moscow.

That night, Aleks and I took down some beers and communicated in my broken Russian and his not-so-perfect English. Right before we were about to call it a night, however, two Russian Air Force pilots boarded our carriage. Oh yeah, and did I add that they were completely wasted! Aleks saw them and immediately told them I was American. "Great," I thought to myself, "these guys are really going to love having an American on board after all the problems our two countries have been having!" Nevertheless, they were as cool as they could be. They told me that the Americans and Russians are brothers. I couldn't believe it! In fact, one of the guys (who I later found out was a general) gave me his hat. That's right, his Russian General Air Force hat. A fantastic souvenir. You wanna see a picture? Oh wait, I'm getting to that part...

The next day, Aleks and the two army guys took off, meaning new passengers would take their place. Of course, my luck, a soccer team of a bunch of guys my age was next in line. There were about 10 of them, and, of course, they were all drunk (if you haven't noticed, drinking of the Trans-Sib is very common...). Of course, they found out that I was a foreigner quickly, and without hesitation, they told me to come in, take a seat and join the celebration with vodka and food. We had a feast in their cabin! Several roast chickens, bread, salad, vodka, beer, fruits- you name it. They kept offering everything they had to me; the minute I finished something, someone would be piling more food onto my napkin. I tried to be polite and say "no" after a while (since I thought I was eating all their food) but they refused. Good ole Russian hospitality! I soon found out that they had just won a soccer tourney and they were all returning home on the train/celebrating their victory. They had the trophy to prove it. Wanna see it? I told you, wait!!! I celebrated with the team the entire night probably waking up everyone on the entire train in the process. Nonetheless, a great time! Probably one of the most fun nights I had in Russia after 3 months of living there.

The next day, I woke up with a splitting hangover with no idea what time it was or where I was. You see, on the Trans-Sib, you're constantly crossing time zones, thus becoming "train-lagged." It's like jet lag, except it’s a slow, painful process. It plays a number on you, I guarantee! I also saw that the good friends on my soccer team had gotten off. That third day was all about resting. The partying/train-lag/lack off sleep/ exhaustion from the swaying and "klunk klunk" of the tracks put me in a daze. I took time to peer out the window, seeing nothing but the typical Siberian landscape- wide open plains traced with tall, skinny trees and the occasional wooden house villages. Everyone once in a while, we'd make a stop, giving us the opportunity to get some fresh Siberian air and sample local food from the vendors. This was definitely the highlights of my day on the train.

I used that night to catch up on reading and get some rest. However, my internal clock was all messed up due to the train-lag. It was the middle of the night and I was the only one awake. I took my book of choice, "The Gulag Archipelago," and went to the deserted hall way. And that’s when things started getting weird. I just happened to be on the chapter where Solzhenitsyn was describing the transportation of the prisoners on the Soviet's vast RR system. The more he described it, the more I personally felt involved. Every thing he mentioned about the trains I was literally hearing it, feeling it and experiencing it first hand. It was almost like I was in another world, or like I was hallucinating or something. There I was, all by myself in the middle of the night with my mind in a tailspin on the same tracks that millions of prisoners have passed decades ago. Then, suddenly, I read the line where the author mentioned how we ordinary citizens complain about the fatigue of train travel and cramped space of four people in our tiny cabins. "Yep," I thought. But then he back fired, saying how that was nothing what he went through since the prisoners were stuffed into the same space I was in like cattle (often 20-25 people in the 10X8X8 rooms!) with no bathroom for days on end. Oh yea, and Solzhenitsyn made the point that this wasn't even the worse of their worries! Wow! I snapped out of my daze quickly, put the book away in awe since I felt like he was speaking directly to me, and hit the sack.

The next day I awoke to the same bleak Siberian landscape that I had been seeing for days. I realized that by this point, the train was starting to play tricks on me, and messing with my head. That's what it does to you, a tight, cramped area, mixed with no shower + train lag + the confusion of everything + no fresh air + ahhhhhh! The list doesn't stop! I knew I had to be strong for just a few more hours since Irkutsk was coming up.

Finally, night fell again, my last night before my destination. But, of course, I wouldn't get off that easily. Some psycho entered my cabin (drunk... of course). He told me he was a diamond miner, but I'm pretty sure this guy was involved in some kind of illegal activity. I just got that weird feeling. Plus, the girl in my cabin leaned over to me at one point and said, in English, "I think he's dangerous!" That night, I tried to get some rest, but the psycho next to me kept acting up. He had a 45 minute sleep schedule consisting of: 10 minutes of silence, then 10 minutes of snoring, then 10 minutes of talking in his sleep, the 10 minutes of going on a rampage (aka- smacking the wall and hitting the bed with his fist) the 5 minutes of all of the above! Just when you thought it was all over (during the 1o minutes of silence) it would start up again. He scarred the shit out of me! I didn't get a blink of sleep the entire night.

Luckily, we arrived in Irkutsk at 5:30 am that morning. I gathered my things and took off like a bat out of hell. But,all that mattered was that I reached my mid point destination! However, I still had one more problem- I was still in Russia, and my Russian visa would expire in 2 days. I had to find a way out of the country fast. I went to the ticket booth and bought the next train out of the country- one that would put me in the heart of Mongolia just before the visa expired. That was a close call.

So I spent the night in Irkutsk (which is by the way an awesome city). I'm kind of mad I didn't teach there instead. The people were actually friendly (unlike the notorious Muscovite negativity). Anyway, yea, got to see Lake Baikal and everything. Well worth the stop. But, I had to keep on trucking. Next stop, Mongolia.

The train departed the following day. After spending about 8 hours crossing customs on the border, we finally reached Mongol territory. Another night passed (along with another agonizing night's rest) and I made it to Ulaan Baatar. I was so excited to get there, I had always wanted to visit Mongolia. The temperature was well below freezing, but it didn't matter, I still grabbed my camera taking shots of just about everywhere in the entire city. Yep, you heard me, amazing photos, but wait, still not there yet...

Three days later, a few British guys I met traveling in Russia showed up at my hostel. We decided to sign up for a tour into the country the next day to sleep in gers and check out Mongolia's incredible natural beauty. However, that night had to call for a celebration... of course. We went out, had a great time, but, unfortunately (or actually luckily) one of the Brits had too much to drink and had to return. Me and the other guy decided to stay since Ulaan Baatar, surprisingly, had good night life. Well, to make a long story short, it got late and it was bed time. And that's where the fun began.

We went to the street to hail a cab, naturally. One pulled up, stopped next to us and I tried negotiating a good price. Next thing I know, "POP!!!" on the back of my head. I opened my eyes and I was on the ground getting kicked by several big Mongolian guys. One then jumped down and held my arms down while the others ravaged my pockets. I kept struggling, but there was no hope- I was getting mugged and there was nothing I could do about it. Once they got what they wanted from me and my friend, they took off, never to see the bastards again. So all those wonderful pics I was speaking about- yep, gone. Not to mention a lot of my money and my wallet with ID and credit card. As you can imagine, that sucked, definitely the worst travel experience that I've ever had. But you know what, that's life, it happens. And if you’re willing to travel around enough, it'll happen, you bet your last buck it will... literally.

The next day I woke up, beat up, bruised down and pissed off. I couldn't let this incident though stop me from my 3 day excursion into the countryside. If you don't cry over spilt milk, then you shouldn't cry over a camera, wallet and money now. The next three days we were away from the hustle and bustle of Ulaan Baatar in the middle of nowhere, just what I needed. We spent the night in gers with nomadic Mongolian families, ate some damn good food, checked out an ancient Buddhist monastery and rode horses. It was quite spiritual in a way. Seeing all the monks in the monastery plus the simple life of the nomads made me realize that hey, my camera is just a material item that can be replaced. In the words of the old grandpa living in one of the gers we stayed at, “they can steal your camera and your pictures, but no one can steal your memories.” Wow, deep stuff right there, but you know what, he’s true. So I cannot show you evidence of my wonderful journey, but that really doesn’t matter. They are with me, and I guess that’s the most important thing of it all, ain’t it?


After a few weeks in Mongolia living like a true nomad (I told you the idea about being a nomad in my last blog in Russia!) I headed to Beijing. I passed 5 days in China’s capital celebrating the end of my long ass trip. It truly is a great feeling knowing that you have completed such a long and strenuous voyage. I said hey to the Great Wall, Peking Duck and Beijing’s infamous party district “Sanlitan” then called it a trip. I took the flight over the Pacific to make it home just in time for Thanksgiving. Despite having a wonderful time in the Middle Country, I wasn’t sad about leaving China. I knew I would be back soon- REAL soon. In fact, that’s exactly where I am now…


To be continued