Stop living in the past: Irkutsk now (Part 5)

I hope that you enjoyed the “Taltsy” wooden-museum piece last time. That was right up my alley at any rate… perhaps from an English perspective its appeal is enhanced by the construction material itself… Here, there aren’t many standing historical structures constructed completely in wood… OK, I can’t think of any off the top of my head… There must be some… Even our surviving windmills have conical stone bases, and generally-speaking wood constitutes only the skeletal frameworks of say… Tudor buildings for instance. Unless you know otherwise…

On the surface of it… that seems odd for a country once largely covered by forest. We’ve lost about 90% to clearing, burning, civil and military construction (e.g. ancient maritime vessels), agriculture, disease, fuel use, et al. Now, we are left with around 15% of standing woodland that is classified as “ancient” in origin. Of course, climate is a major factor. The traditional British “dampness” and timber have not sat well together throughout a history largely lacking our effective modern preservatives. Whereas the heat and cold in Siberia is reportedly much drier… It’s all about the same forces that (anecdotally at least) dried and warped crusader longbows in the holyland, caused their composite Turk counterparts to fall apart unglued when brought home and still makes upper Northern Hemisphere dwellers from Scandinavia or Russia feel the cold here… Even though their wintertime homeland mercury regularly steals a downward march on us to the tune of negative ten degrees at the very least, … and often multiples more.

Yeah, it’s all about our famously “inclement” climate compared to the winter-peaking Russo-Siberian anticyclone. The dwellings you inhabit speak volumes about the nature of the country that you call home.

Anyway, I digress (it’s a way of life). What was the question…? Something about Irkutsk … while on your Trans-Siberian experience? Things to do, fun to be had…

A great counterpoint to “Taltsy” must surely be the “Botanic Garden of the Irkutsk State University”, all 27 hectares of it… and this time located inside Irkutsk too. Apparently, it’s the only one of it’s kind within the “Irkutsk region” … though I’m not exactly sure where the “region” technically starts and ends. I’m being pedantic. The species count starts at 1400+ by section: ornamental/tropical, herbacious, dendrology and a “Biotechnology of Plant Propagation” area which alone features over 200 species/varieties of fruiting plants. Then there are another three sections, or “living collections” comprising: “systematicum, medicinal herbs, and rare and endangered plants of Central Siberia”.

Look, I don’t know what a systematicum actually is…, but I’m sure it’s very nice. If one of you would like to bring one over, we’ll take it out for a spin, see if we can make it fly…whatever.

Now, there is one important proviso: being a University facility, it’s not “generally” open to the public, but (importantly) guided tours are available… it says here… So with a little courtesy and forethought you may be granted access to something serene, informative and a little “off” the main tourist drag too. Bullseye.

Something else that has to be better than cruising the tourist shops for Matrioshka dolls is surely Husky sledding. Especially if you have a thing for Siberian Huskies (I’m probably more of an Alaskan Malamute guy, but Huskies are great…) Anyway, picture yourself white-knuckling-it up and down Taiga-forested hills between Irkutsk and Lake Baikal, with the mid-day winter sun glancing off a frozen expanse of crystal-ice. What an absolute scream that would be… Of course, with their largely meat-based diet, an occupational hazard is being in the direct line of fire, downwind of a collective Husky exhaust-stream! Oh well, every Eden has it’s serpent… I’m sure that gas masks aren’t provided. C’est la vie. Websites for companies offering this service (the sledding, not the gas masks) are readily available, but it would no doubt be a boon to go down that oft-referred too: “trusted” route. Especially seeing as these are often “proper” excursions, not fairground rides; you might be out for 8 hours or more. Hopefully “trusted” is via your tour operator… (if not: why not?) You may have to rely on your smarts if travelling “free-fall”, so to speak… ‘Better be covered in case that takes a turn for the literal.

[Photo by Jim Linwood]

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Stop living in the past: Irkutsk now (Part 4)

OK, perhaps it’s time to be a little less … lyrical, and a little more practical (or perhaps not … how exactly do you tell?) A round-up of the various points of interest in and around Irkutsk may be of some actual, pragmatic use… so let’s give that a spin. Then I’d say, on to Lake Baikal, which is so significant a location that it deserves it’s own section I’m sure. Well, there are the ground rules established, so …

Call me biased (hey, it’s my party …) but I’m going straight back to those wooden Decembrist-style buildings again, mentioned in previous blogs. First port of call: “The Taltsy Museum of Wooden Architecture and Ethnography”. It’s on the road to Lake Baikal actually, around 47km out of town. I read a “user” (…?) comment on Taltsy, stating that if you take a bus, you can be dropped you off but you’ll “most likely” have to hitch-hike back! This is then euphemistically described as “not that safe”. … OK, thumbs-out then Grandma and off we go … Er, no … ‘best go by car, preferably owned/organised by someone you can trust… but who would that be? These comments were written in 2007 so maybe things have changed since then … maybe.

Anyway, I’ll leave the minutiae of getting there and back alive down to your own discretion. Whilst at Taltsy you may witness 78 “monuments of architectural heritage and 8,000 exhibits of high historical value” … apparently. Siberian life-styles and dwellings of Russian, Buryat, Evenk and Tofalar cultures are on display representing civilian, defensive and religious functionality A rough cross section would include: a school, a jail, a farmstead and estates across three periods of history, the combined result is an assemblage from various snapshots in time and location rather than one literal town or village. Remarkably, some of the structures date back to the late 1600s and were physically re-located in kit-form to this open-air museum, ensuring their preservation. Amazing. Originally located in the Angara valley, their transfer was necessitated by the region’s flooding during the construction of the Bratsk and Ust-Ilimsk Dams that spanned the mid ’60s to the mid ’70s. In turn, their prior survival had been facilitated by virtue of their relative isolation … being a little “out of the way” spares you from the ravages of “development”, of course.

As well as “regular” (if such a term applies …) houses, there is also the Saviour’s Gate Tower of the Ilimsk Ostrog (fort) and a still-active “Church of Our Lady of Kazan”. Time for another superlative: “Incredible”, … that’ll do fine … Enjoy these minaret-ed, slatted, ornately window-shuttered wonders in all their relative authenticity. Yes, there some elements of modern re-construction in there too.

As mentioned earlier, the range of Taltsy is such that it encompasses the physical and spiritual lives of indigenous Siberians too: hunting camps, storage facilities, fur and hide treatments, and even displays of Evenk air and land burials styles.

Although the green-light was given for the museum in 1966, it wasn’t until 1980 when it became part of the “Irkutsk State United Museum” that the first visitors were received. This sounds so bizarre … Well, these things take time … Since January 1994 the museum has operated independently, mercifully surviving the Soviet gruelling transition to trial-by-market-forces … That’s what happens when the rug of state-funding is yanked from beneath your feet … Phew.

The museum site covers around 67 hectares … which is just over a quarter of a square mile (in real money …) or 7.48558087188E-27 square light years (aren’t online converters really clever?)

Also, costumed locals do their traditional … thing. And lots of it. There’s a calendar full of themed events and celebrations; you can even get married there.

I’m not sure about that whole issue … not the conversion to square light years; but dressing up and selling a plasticised version of your own heritage in order to provide a quaint afternoon’s distraction for the tourists. Isn’t a whole cultural history somehow worth more than that?

But here, of course, I’m on the edge of the classic “conscientious-Westerner” trap … These folks are trying to get by, hopefully making a living, … hopefully more. Such quandaries are often “issues” borne of (relative) affluence wagging a politically correct finger in a self-referential attempt to be seen (… most important) doing that “right-on” thing … Meanwhile, the subjects of their apparent concern take off their costumes, go home, pay rent and buy bread … So why not visit and help enable them a little toward those ends?

[Photo by seseg_h]

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Stop living in the past: Irkutsk now (Part 3)

I’m still trying to track down some English speaking residents of Irkutsk … folk who can give me the low down on life at street level. In the meantime I’m rummaging through other people’s photo collections … other people’s memories. Last time, I was writing down impressions of a place I’d never been to, based upon the cast-off evidence of others … Virtual eavesdropping … in the hope that my words would find some truth via the eyes of others, and in the now-second-hand sights they beheld. I still need to get the “word-on-the-street” though … once again: wish me luck …

On we go … So there’s the post-Renaissance architecture with its colourful Russian-candy twist … and the broad open boulevards of a Paris of Siberia … And then there’s the immediate step-back-in-time of the surviving Decembrist (et al) houses in their dark, ageing wood.

Incidentally I caught a fascinating comment about the state of some of these… It seems that in places, the advance of time has proven to be tangible in the height of asphalt and concrete laid and laid again since the time of the Decembrists … the layers of man-made strata rising in succession from the soiled ground-level of pre-modernity. So in relative terms those old wooden houses appear in places to be sinking into the ground when positioned alongside what has become a modern conveyor-belt street! Literally a metre or so over, say 150 years… a centimetre every 18 months, of history submerging into the dirt. I saw a photograph of pavement creeping to mid-way against a row of old, paint-flaked wooden door frames as a terrace sinks into the mire of the past. Resolute and upstanding, as a proud, beaten captain and his sinking ship.

It’s a process that continually occurs the world over of course, and the reason why archaeologists dig holes … but it’s unusual (for “us” at least) to see the devouring process in action.

Throwing contrast against all of the above are the flourishes of Russian Orthodoxy, yet another head on the chimera. I saw photographs of murals, defined by the rules of their Icon-ic style, set around a cathedral-tower’s external wall, defying the elements and testing divine protection against encroaching earthly ravages (Epiphany Cathedral). Also, a weathered, first-floor external wall depicting a triptych fresco above an extended low roof: baptism? … resurrection? … Christ in Majesty? … It’s hard to tell. This time the church appeared disused, abandoned, the covenant of protection broken and nature granted permission to scrub and fog the paint-work into obscurity (Our Saviour’s Church). Well looks can often be deceptive: in this particular case the images are fading indeed, but into the present, not away from it; as restorers unmask original detail hidden under bland, flat coats of white … and the images themselves: the baptism of the Buryats … obviously a notable event for Orthodoxy. You had to be there. There are two monasteries in Irkutsk also, one of which, the Znamensky Monastery, is 300 years old and features imposing onion-domed towers topped with Orthodox crosses. A familiar look, coherent across the whole nation and undeservedly reduced to cliché in the eyes of the West.

The final influence upon Irkutsk seems to have been the Soviet era, not surprisingly. Stalinist accommodation “slabs” re-occur as pre-echoes of the kind of stacked, budget dwelling-hutches that someone thought would be a good idea here, in 1960s UK. Well, I’m sure we’ve all heard about the endeavours of those who do not learn from the mistakes of history … and here’s more proof.

Of course the flip side to Soviet Russia’s depressing edifices is their strident, forward-looking and triumphalist art-work whether set in sculpted, painted or printed form … as if valuing lives lived under a future utopia as greater than those endured in a declining present. Now, ironically of course, these monuments to futures past are history in themselves.

More Irkutsk next time: things to see and do.

[Photo by reibai]

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Stop living in the past: Irkutsk now (Part 2)

I wanted to get a feel for Irkutsk at street level. Not the brochure, tourist or blog versions… It’s tricky. Nothing beats “going there” of course… wherever “there” may be (… I’ll probably pass on Chernobyl or the open-cast asbestos mines in Mongolia though …) Anyway, after a little scouting around the web, I did find some interesting footage … valid second-hand goods perhaps? … a reel of snap-shots, a snip of video travelogue from a UK citizen walking the Irkutsk streets, and a continuous in-car travelling shot taken over several minutes across town … Clues.

Before now I have launched enthusiastically into long distance interviews with travellers who have passed through the region … several regions in fact … Then with some slight disappointment it dawned on me that there’s no real prospect of gaining much of an insight into say: real Moscow-lives (real Irkutsk lives…) from someone who spent two hurried days there before heading East. Obvious, with hindsight … With thanks to all who tried (and often succeeded) to help: I was expecting too much. Essentially, you tend to get the same high-contrast impressions … though if fortunate: some good anecdotes too.

This is not the greatest preamble then, to announce that I’m trying to sort out more interviews … It’s been an ice-age … I’m trying to get a more incisive angle … starting with Irkutsk. So wish me luck.

After picking over the evidence I’m getting impressions of Irkutsk that are starting to stick: the surprisingly European feel to the place, for one. This is something I’ve grown used to with St. Petersburg: a locale that imported the lineage of post-renaissance architectural style (beloved of Peter the Great) to build the new capital … but with Irkutsk, this far out? Curious. Sure enough there are squat rectangular buildings in a European classical style … old and new, flourishes of Petrine Baroque: colours, columns and arches … and still those open, broad boulevards; multi-lane arterials, befitting a “Paris of Siberia” indeed. I’m struck by the modern city’s low, unhurried unfolding … in terms of layout (not kamikaze traffic excesses …): as if a handful of dice had been cast down a gambling table and then made neat. Weirdly, it made me think of Sheffield…! with the trams, but minus the hills. That’s a good thing: I’ve always felt uncomfortable in central London’s towering claustrophobia for instance. Anyway, none of these references should by rights apply to Irkutsk… look where we are on the map!

So … I’m going to make a partially-informed guess. Here goes: I wonder if it’s the legacy of those Decembrists again somehow? Or perhaps the mentality they attracted and encouraged … either overtly or not. They are the obvious link with an architectural form popular back-West … and, significantly, all over St. Petersburg. It’s a thought.

Of course the Decembrists didn’t arrive to recline in stony Petrine Baroque … more so to survive in edifices of wood hacked out of the ground. Many (or some?) of these still stand. In what appears to be stubborn determination to make the new place “home” these display some incredible, ornate flourishes, set typically around the windows, roof edgings and soffets … They often resemble the traditional sea-wave décor abutting the streetward edge of shop awnings … but shaped and carved into pierced and hollowed mouldings of exemplary craftsmanship. Great.

And, what is really “something” from an external view-point is that whilst walking down a broad, modern street … you can just glance to the left, say … down a side-road or alley: …and there’s history waiting for you in beaten and weathered wood … resplendent with those ubiquitous, painted and sash-locked shutters… a direct link to a turning point in Siberian history. … Do you “get” that? … For me that’s just incredible.

Oh and they are often still privately occupied too, arranged in low terraces or detached, and displaying various states of repair or decay. … I must get an insight into how the locals regard them.

[Photo by Nagy]

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Stop living in the past: Irkutsk now (Part 1)

Enough history? I’ll have to accept that most of the readers here are not time travellers and perhaps put a brake on the circuitous historical excursion … a bit. But one more! … one more! Irkutsk witnessed a major event in the Red-on-White conflict of the Russian Civil War, namely the execution of the White leader: Alexander Kolchak in 1920. This would prove to be a substantial nail in the counter-revolutionary coffin, being as he was, the commander of the major White force.

Irkutsk had often been a battleground in the fall-out from the Soviet Revolution, but this was a major death-knell for the White, pro-Tsarist (or just anti-Bolshevik) cause. He is remembered though, in the form of a monument unveiled to the public eye in 2004 … let’s face it: it was never going to happen during the communist years …

It’s often hard to delineate exactly when a certain “passage-in-time” starts and ends. Officially, the Civil War ran from 1918 to 1921 but in reality staggered into ugly existence via a series of initial skirmishes in 1917, blossoming darkly into a war that similarly stumbled, kicked and twitched to final lifelessness in June 1923 with the capitulation of General Anatoly Pepelyayev.

Anyway:  holidays, excursions, the Trans-Siberian experience, touristy things … remember those?

I read that Irkutsk is well served by a capable public transport system comprising of buses, trolley-buses (electric) and trams, though certain procedure is best observed to ensure smooth passage. Tickets are available in packs of ten from kiosks or from the driver and are good for all of the above conveyances … if subsequently validated by wall-mounted machine-punch as required.

During busy periods of the day you may be passed a ticket if standing in the vicinity of one of these punch-machines … Ok, you are not being given a free ticket: it’s a communal pleasantry to save wading through the crush. You are expected to punch it for the holder, or even pass it on to the person operating the machine, if not you … and then hand it back accordingly. I’ve never been there or tried anything similar, so I can imagine the surprise for the uninitiated …

Knowing such tips helps to “grease the wheel”, helping stave off those bemused, expectant looks whilst you fumble for your translator … and the queue behind you collectively rolls their eyes. Oh yeah … “no ticket!” (“без билета!”) equates to a 20,000 ruble fine at last count if caught (get a receipt). That’s around £400!… a figure that I had to double-check to believe as it tumbled casually out of the currency converter … I still wonder if it might be a misprint … Anyway: just buy the damn ticket (or ten), OK?

Although trams stop in the middle of the street, cars are (I am informed …) obliged to give way to passengers making their way on and off, from pavement to vehicle. However, don’t let that statement be your epitaph … Nothing that I have heard about Russian driving has been good… I wish that I could report otherwise, but there it is… so be careful out there.

As far as “taxis” are concerned … frankly I doubt if I’d be taking them … It seems that like other parts of Russia: although it’s possible to flag down potentially any private car, ask for a ride and negotiate a fare … you are taking your life into your hands. Perhaps it works for the street-wise locals but you’re probably a “rich Westerner” … or at least presumed to be, in other words: a clueless walking money-belt ripe for the picking.

Even on an Irkutsk tourist website it says: “TAKE ONLY OFFICIAL TAXIS” … recognised by a chequered light on top or chequered stripes on the side, often faded … and even then: don’t get into a car that already has a passenger, don’t give the exact address if going to a private residence. There’s usually no meter so settle a price in roubles before getting into the thing as this will help to avoid a higher fare and possible robbery (!) … and that “not all drivers are 100% trustworthy …”

‘Sounds like it! I’ll take the bloody bus!

Not wishing to end on a low note though, I’ve saved the best till last: hydrofoils … swooshing the 70km up and down the Angara river between Irkutsk and Lake Baikal … but only in the summertime. Now that sounds more like travelling. Surely a must-do. Oh yes.

[Photo by cramnic]

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Irkutsk on the rise

Thanks to Rhia for filling in the holiday slot with the Russian Christmas article. It would have never occurred to me to write one… Before the festive season took hold I was getting stuck into Irkutsk and rummaging through some history on the exiled Decembrists and the multi-faceted benefits their endeavours brought to the region…

It was certainly a boost for a 17th century gold/fur trading and administrative outpost, prison colony and Buryat tax-collection point (…that’s fur-taxes incidentally).

The initial construction had been merely a “winter quarters” built in 1652, followed by a nearby fortress in 1661. This is apparently the start of a popular upgrade-path where Siberian cities are concerned. Developing from its fortress, Irkutsk received official town status in 1686 but had to wait until 1760 before being “plugged-in” to the fast lane (?) courtesy of the Great Siberian (road) Route heading out of Moscow. By the mid 1800s it would snake through Mongolia and reach a gate in the Great Wall of China; forming a major East-West trade route and gaining its alternative title: the Tea Road, for obvious reasons.

It’s important to note the word “route” as opposed to “road” here as in fact the route was an amalgamation of several roads. Even today the modern Trans-Siberian Highway is actually seven linked roads, still. Having seen a photograph of a section of the original “Siberian Highway”’ I can safely say: “I wouldn’t have fancied it”, resembling as it does, a broad snow-track hacked through the forest. Perhaps it looked more survivable in summer… Travellers would have fared better with the arrival of the railway in 1898. But I digress …

So Irkutsk increased in importance as its trade connections flourished; it even became the seat of the Governor-General of East Siberia in 1821 … and still the exiles arrived. In fact, by the arrival of the 20th century an astounding third of the population comprised of exiles. An incredible figure that changed the region’s demographic and touched all aspects of its culture. … And just to re-frame the nature of this enforced influx: this is not just a legion of chained cattle-rustlers or the era’s equivalent of car thieves …. Once again: the Decembrists, artists, political revolutionaries, intellectuals, different-thinkers… all at odds with the court of the Tsar. A veritable counter-culture in the East buoyed up by force of will and the burgeoning influx of trade from East and West.

The influence of these alternative minds was (is) certainly felt in the flesh and bones of the infrastructure: around the turn of the 20th century and the “one-third-exile” population mark; the city had become known for its style and design as “The Paris of Siberia”. It had also gained electricity only four years prior (1896). This is indeed some-going considering that three quarters of Irkutsk had burnt to the ground as recently as 1879, also known as “The Black Year” … (Is this a running theme amongst burgeoning Russian cities?) At any rate: it’s as if some forward momentum kept pushing it ahead, regardless.

Thankfully, many of the wooden houses still survive today, their rich, organic, ornately carved edifices at odds with their dead Stalinist-slab neighbours. There’s a curious sensation at the thought of this juxtaposition … considering that both were in some way the product of anti-Tsarist, revolutionary thought and action counterbalanced on either side of the Soviet Revolution. Representational 3D constructions of “before” and “after”, somehow… and a cautionary tale: be careful what you wish for …

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Since its first performance in Imperial Russia in 1892, when it got its premiere in St Petersburg, Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker ballet has become entrenched as a Christmas tradition in the west – especially in America. But there are some Christmas traditions that still remain in the country and can be a feast of the senses for travellers.

If you were in an Eastern Orthodox country, you won’t find anyone celebrating on the 25 December, as the Orthodox Church uses the old Julian calendar which celebrates Christmas, or Svyatki, on 7 January. The tradition of Christmas being mainly a religious observance has gradually made a reappearance over the last two decades after years of suppression by the communist government, an officially atheist state.

Christmas cuisine in Russia

Traditionally on Christmas Eve (6 January) Russian families attend several long services including the Royal Hours, before returning home for a traditional Christmas Eve Holy Supper. You won’t find any turkey or goose here, as it is a meal consisting of twelve meatless dishes, including mushroom soup, dried fruits and nuts, red borshch and Lenten bread, to represent each of the apostles. The bread, or pagach, is broken and dipped first in honey then in chopped garlic, to represent both the sweetness and bitterness of life. The table setting may contain some hay in a bowl to remember the humble manger in the Nativity. Those that are particularly religious will even fast before returning to church for the All Night Vigil set to the music made famous by composer, Sergei Rachmaninoff.

During the Soviet period when religious celebration was discouraged, traditions were kept alive by shifting them to the more secular New Year festivities and while Christmas is of religious importance, Russians still tend to focus on celebrating the New Year. The Yolka in the form of an adorned spruce or pine tree, and St Nicholas were traditions brought to Russia by Peter the Great after his 17th century Western travels. Travellers to Moscow will see a tree standing in the Red Square during the festive period. The city is also full of seasonal ice rinks and is much more interesting for explorers in the winter than the sticky summer crowds around the Kremlin.

Christmas folk legends

The Russian Santa is Dyed Moroz, which translates to “Grandfather Frost”. The legend is that he brings presents to children under the New Year’s yolka dressed in boots known as valenki and travelling in a Russian troika. He is accompanied by Snegurochka, a character from an old folk tale. She is said to be a Snow Maiden, who is the daughter of Spring and Winter and appears to a childless couple as a winter blessing, but melts when she falls in love with a human boy.

Russian folk tales play a big part in Christmas traditions. The story of Baboushka is one that is often told to children in Russia and beyond. She was a lonely and frail old woman who was visited on a winter night by three kings who were following a star to visit a newborn king in a far eastern land. The harsh winter wind discouraged Baboushka from following the kings on their journey. The following morning in the light of the day when the air was warmer she decided to find the child, with a scarf wrapped around her head and carrying a basket full of food and gifts.

They say she still wanders the streets and fields trying to catch up with the three kings, seeking the baby and leaving a gift for each child she passes. She is depicted very similarly to a traditional matrioshka doll.

Despite Christmas being unfavoured under Soviet rule, the season has still seemed to hang on to festivities and celebration.

[Photo by archer10]

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Irkutsk: Decemberist fallout

Well, here’s another milestone: Trips and Tales No. 60 – a diamond anniversary! I’m not sure what we should draw from this. Hmm … probably nothing, so back to Irkutsk then and a little bit of background history as you explore the region on your Trans-Siberian adventure.

Last time we drew to a close with Decemberist exiles of relatively high social standing, serving out their time in Siberian exile with some ultimately staying to make a go of it once their perceived debt to the state had been satisfied.

The notion of re-settlement was often a factor in the punishment post-incarceration, to the point of allocating the exile a small area of land and basic tools from which they could … in theory … survive. Survival could readily depend upon prior experience of the conditions, personal resources (including finances) and social connections. Those who had too few of the above could (and would) quite easily perish.

Not least of these “connections” being the wives who often followed their exiled husbands voluntarily into Siberia and who would petition the state for concessions to their sentences, leniency, even privileges … voices hard to ignore through their (legal) innocence, matrimonial dedication and of course again: social standing. These voices were echoed and reinforced simultaneously by similar requests and petitions from the “folks back home”, often forming in total a persuasive and ultimately effective mechanism for a change of fortune … such as the welcome nullification of labour commitments for instance.

All this in the face of strict legislation and constant monitoring of exiles by agents of the state … an endeavour intended to suppress and limit the endeavours of this burgeoning community though paradoxically serving to reinforce it’s mutual bond and status. Out of this bond and its wish for the improvement of circumstance came a veritable movement of initiatives that established seats of learning, a development of agricultural variety and method, improved medicine and medical practice for the region, a development of music and the visual arts, enhanced literacy and in turn the propagation of literature … all of which were also available to enhance the lives of grateful, native Siberians …

These original residents not only favoured this newly imported intelligentsia’s rejection of Nicholas I’s rule … seeing it as a blow “for the people” but now could also experience tangible benefit to their daily lives and community.

The influence was far-reaching, affecting and incorporating a great many aspects of Siberian life: socio-economic, geographical, political, cultural … and more.

With the ascendency of Alexander II to the Russian throne in 1856, amnesty was granted to the Decemberist exiles, their official titles restored and the status of persona non-grata individually lifted, opening the way back to Moscow and the “civilised” European Russia that had once expelled them.

Of course this was now 30 years after their arrival in the east … and by this time many of them called Siberia “home”… Why now head west to pick up pieces of a life forcibly abandoned 3 decades ago? Or to start over again in senior years? In such a time-frame lives had irrevocably changed at both extremes of the Empire. For many, familial and professional connections had long since gone leaving nothing to return to. Some, quite simply were now too old and infirm to make the change, others no longer had the finances available to fund their former lives, and others still did return to see the abolishment of serfdom and other progressive political and legal reforms instigated during Alexander II’s reign before his assassination in 1881.

[Photo by Sergey Gabdurakhmanov]

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Out of Krasnoyasrk Krai: onwards to Irkutsk

OK, that’s enough on Krasnoyarsk and the general region. Another virtual pin in another virtual map. It’s time to focus attention east… with great apologies to Khakassia and Tuva. I know they deserve more… I didn’t even get to mention Siberian apricots… But, currently the excursion possibilities are “dubious” due to recession and the conditions and logistics that arise there from… Although the will may be there, Russia Experience isn’t currently offering it as part of the package… at least for now. So, no point in getting your hopes up just yet…

I also never got around to mentioning the famous/infamous1908 Tunguska “event” that occurred in Krasnoyarsk Krai… So for now just assume that aliens “did it” and we’ll move on.

I scanned around for footage taken east of Kraznoyarsk. From a train-window the view, at least a good portion of it, is “pleasant” enough: open, rolling Steppe, a variegated canvas of brush and shrub sprouting into equally rich rail-side forest. Small settlements and towns slump in the greenery with little signs of apparent life. It’s not really what you’ve bought your ticket for… but the trip was never about a seat on a train anyway, was it? Anyway, 12 to 14 hours later (a quick pop down to the shops by Siberian standards)…

Irkutsk.

At long last … the Paris of Siberia, the gateway to Lake Baikal … and stepping stone (via Buryatia) to Mongolia and then China. A significant port of call. Lots to see and do, no doubt. To paraphrase the tragic Captain Oates: “We may be some time…” It’s another of those places to which undesirables were exiled before Siberia was opened-up by rail and (in part) developed.

I assume that the pretty neo-classical buildings, the roads and electricity were not installed and waiting for the newly convicted to enjoy… Exiles had to eke an existence from the harsh ground, but compared to forced labour in the Gulag system…? Preferable? … Or are such comparisons meaningless as here I sit in the UK in sunny mid-December, in my comfy leather chair, feet propped up on the panel-heater?

Naturally, class played a significant role in the subsequent treatment of exiled offenders … Irkutsk’s most famous inmates were officer-class soldiers … including princes … responsible for the 1825 Decemberist uprising against the coronation of Nicholas I. Memoirs even exist speaking positively of the journey east and the friendly reception offered by Siberian locals. It surely beat prison! These were treated notably better than “common” foot-soldiers who received severe lashings and brutal, even fatal mistreatment… survivors making their way across Siberia on foot, chained to other “common” criminals.

It seems to have been a scatter-shot affair with a range of offenders brushed under Siberia’s carpet to a variety of far-away places and fates including mine-work and other forms of hard labour… But survivors falling upon Irkutsk (and the like) could even ultimately, ironically find liberation in their “incarceration” as they eventually established farms and became land-owners, were respected for their Decemberist actions by Eastern sympathisers and ultimately found life a great deal more liberal and indeed liberating than that which the stifling plots, intrigues and enforced formality up in Moscow provided.

Indeed, many stayed after serving out their sentences, and impressions from the lives that they crafted there, the society and productivity they nurtured is still felt today.

Now you can join them …

More next time.

[Photo by stealthtractor]

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Over the border … continued, and then we’re gone

Yes, last time I parted with the revelation that currently: Tuva has no rail system. A revelation to myself, too I must admit. So, it may not be the obvious choice of detour for those taking the Trans-Siberian rail journey… In fact, when it comes to actually entering the country, there seems barely a road system to assist you either! The trick apparently is to rail-it into Abakan (the capital of Khakassia) and then take a road route from there. To be fair: a new rail route is set to be complete in 2012… fingers-crossed, but until then…

Technically, there are three “road” routes. Two connect with Khakassia: a mountainous dirt track and an asphalt road that heads into the capital (Kyzyl) via the connecting pass… and a route north from Mongolia that morphs from a dirt track to a road, proper, as you head into Tuva itself.

The first two, particularly, are prone to winter closure due to snow and avalanche. This is no doubt “normal” for the hardened locals but out-of-shape western office-dwellers may want to take a serious reality check before undertaking a merry dirt-track jaunt over the mountain-tops. … Hey, I wouldn’t fancy it either. We’re not in Kansas now, Toto.

Heading to Kyzyl (pop: 110,000 approx.) would seem to make sense on (virtual) paper  … as the city is furnished with an encouraging range of transport options: bus, minibus, “Marshrutka” taxi-vans and “regular” taxis too, a ferry across the Yenesei (if the conditions hold out) and a small airport with a bi-weekly service from Moscow… and (can I assume: more frequent?) flights to/from Kraznoyarsk.

Whilst in Kyzyl, why not visit the “Centre of Asia” monument (because allegedly you are now in the centre…) or the nearby Shaman Centre (not geographically speaking in this instance). There’s also the National Museum and National Theatre; the latter holding large Buddhist ceremonies and performances of “Khoomei”, the world-famous throat-singing, during seasons of summer festivals. And… incidentally: itself a beautiful piece of modern Asian architectural design.

If the refined, meditative culture overwhelms you, find an antidote in the stadium’s open air disco and the local night club. Or perhaps not.

But, the main attraction is surely the country itself: 80% of which is hilly or mountainous and contains numerous lakes (in glacial, mud, saline and “regular” flavours), mineral springs, approximately 8000 rivers (mostly tributaries of the Yenesei), and regions of expansive steppe and forest. A quick scan on Panoramio or Google Earth will convince you (…no, it will) that the scenery on display is frankly astonishing. Conversely, on a cautionary note: the kind of scenery you want to avoid is that which includes asbestos mining and processing plants such as Ak-Dovurak (Ak-Dovurakskoye) 187 miles West of Kyzyl. Be aware of their locations and frankly: just stay the hell away.

In terms of “attractions” though, let’s not forget the people themselves and their culture, both past and present. As with Khakassia, the region is rich in the archaeology of those who came before. 40,000 of sites worth, yielding beautiful works of metallurgic art, rock paintings, burial mounds and a multitude of relics.

Currently, the spiritual culture is a three-way equilibrium of Shamanism, Buddhism and Russian Orthodoxy, each with their own rich heritage. Similarly, the contrasting elements of modern urban and traditional rural life co-exist. Away from the concrete, Yurt-dwelling nomadic reindeer herders still live in authentic tradition … not “for the tourists”… and a rich oral folklore of riddles, epics and fantastic tales still survives, though under medium-term threat of extinction as the modernist young leave the old ways behind. The living past is still alive and well for now, and can be enjoyed in vigorous festivals of wrestling, horse racing and archery… or at a more sedate pace: the archaeology, the traditional music (and instruments), the oral lore and the ever-present shamanic culture.

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