Going to Extremes

After Nizhnyi Novgorod, my next big stop was in the city of Yekaterinburg, officially past the Ural Mountains, in Asia. Now I was heading into new territory. I had never been to Asia before and I didn’t know what to expect from the first city outside the immediate radius of Moscow. I was also curious to see the changes in the ethnicity of the inhabitants. Would it be a total change from European to Asian, some sort of mix, or no change at all? I was surprised to find it much more European in flavor with a definite uptick in the Asian influence. What surprised me more than the people, was how much there was to do and see in the city. Once again, my planning was a bit off. Not only is Yekaterinburg good for two or more days in the city, there is also much to do outside in the Ural Mountains (next time!). 

Arrival

Heroes' Welcome 

For a city on the verge of Siberia, Yekaterinburg is a pretty happening kind of place. And who better than this “happenin” kind of guy to scope the place out? Actually, my main interest in the city is probably the same as many tourists', it was the city where the Bolsheviks murdered Czar Nicholas II and his family and entourage. It’s a pretty grim reason to visit but it is an important reason nonetheless. The actually murders took place on July 17, 1917 in the basement of a local city merchant’s home (Ipatiev House). Even during Soviet times, many people came there to lay flowers so city mayor, Boris Yeltsin, had the home knocked down and a small sign or memorial was left in its place. This failed to discourage the pilgrims and when the Soviet Union fell (again, the right people weren’t in place to make that great idea work!) a church was built on the site. And it’s a mighty fine church at that!

Cathedral on the Blood

The day I visited the Cathedral of the Blood the upper part was closed for repairs (?) but visitors could still go to the chapels in the basement. But before going inside, there are the huge pictures of the Czar and his family at the back of the church. This is the first time you get the feeling that the site is more than just a religious building, it’s a shrine. The pictures are more than sympathetic to the Czar but what takes things over the top is the statue representing the last of the Romanov rulers and his family. There they are, below a cross, striking heroic and/or defiant poses. The czar himself is holding the famous anemic, Crown Prince Alexei, swaddled in his arms. In fact, this image of Alexei as a Christ-like figure is quite dominant in the icons throughout the church.

Myrtardom begins before entry

Romanovs' as Religious Icons

Chapel of the Grand Duchess Elizabeth and Nun Barbara

Speaking of the church, it is all quite beautiful on the inside. Like all Orthodox churches, the inside is filled with icons that are surrounded by candles as the smell of incense wafts through the air. There is a bit of a different feel in this church, first because it is quite new, not ancient like many of the others throughout the country. The other difference is that also is a museum. As you move from the main altar to the side rooms you find various displays about the czar, his family, and the city during those days. I’m not sure if it is the exhibition changes but my guess is that this one is representative of the 100^th anniversary of the Czar’s death. As I made my way through the chapel and museum, I came about the spot where the Nicholas and his family were brutally murdered. There are plaques dedicated to all members of the family and the servants who died with them. Visitors are not allowed to come too close, nor are they allowed to take pictures. I was once again taken aback by the icons showing the Romanovs in a holy light. There they stand, surrounded by angels above, and family members nearby. (No sign of Rasputin at all) Crown Prince Alexi is front and center, the Chosen One, under rays of soft light. 

Example of Martyr Iconography

The more I look at these icons and museum displays I wonder who was checking their history books. While family was cruelly murdered, we should not forget that there was a Russian Revolution for a reason. The Romanovs were autocratic rulers who were quite out of touch with their (mainly) peasant subjects. Nicholas II, in particular, was a hapless ruler who got his country involved in a disastrous World War I. I’m unsure whether he was cruel or evil but he definitely was no saint. Therefore, I was of two minds when it came to the church. While it is important to remember the past (are we listening, America?), we shouldn’t do these complete one-eighties. Nicholas II’s tragic death should be remembered but he, and his family, should not be elevated to the level of saints. But, with the history books so often destroyed or tampered with in Russia, I’m not totally surprised that one extreme always seems to win out at the expense of the middle. But ain’t that how many want to view history?

Not a Bad Place to Be a Dissident

Lenin from Afar

I still had not taken an overnight train on this portion of my trip when I arrived in Nizhny-Novgorod from Vladimir.  I didn’t know much about the city other than it was renamed during to Soviet period in honor of Maxim Gorky who was born there. It was also the location where the great Andrei Sakharov was sent into exile. And what can I say but, did he good a great deal on that whole prisoner of conscience thing! I was more than pleasantly surprised by the city. I only had about a day to really explore before I hopped on the train for the next portion of my ride. Other than not getting to the Sakharov Museum, that was quite far away and not taking the sky tram over the Volga River (I was just too exhausted!), I saw quite a bit of the city. 

             

When I alit from the train that morning, I was a bit disappointed with what I saw. Yes, this was beginning to resemble the Russia I last visited twenty-five years ago. Outside the train station I saw the very Soviet-looking square with grey, dingy buildings. I believe it was then I decided I was going to have a coffee at McDonalds and figure out where I was located. After heaving along my backpack, I found my hotel, which seemed to be a part of a large apartment complex. It was small, unexciting, but clean. For this reason, I was happy I was only staying the night. So, I quickly checked in and asked for directions to the highlight of the city, the Kremlin overlooking the confluence of the Oka and Volga Rivers. After snapping a few pictures of the Lenin Statue and gazing at the crappy Soviet hotel nearby, I hopped a marshrutka towards the kremlin. As we crossed the river and got closer, I could see that my hotel, while close to the train station, was not in the best part of town. Once the marshrutka reached the top of the hill and I exited, I could see why this place was so popular. The Kremlin is an enormous structure with the perfect view, in times of war and peace. I thought my time there would be short, but I decided to take the day and linger.

View from right of Kremlin to the Volga River

The kremlin saw its most important duty before the Mongol invasions. After the khans got into town, the place was not much use for the Russians. The place continued to fall apart even during the times of the czars and I believe the Soviets wanted to destroy the kremlin and replace it with some horrible administrative building. But over the years since the dissolution of the USSR, the kremlin has been made into a park with a few museums. Of course, as you walk around you see monuments to the Great Patriotic War (WWII), including a wall of names and some tanks, guns, and even an airplane. Many of the original structures, like the cathedral, were torn down either by the Mongols of the Soviets but the walls were still there. I paid my fee and began to walk around the ramparts. I didn’t realize you could walk all the way around the walls (1.2km) but I made good headway around the southern part. It was an incredible view of the rivers. I took some pictures but they cannot do the place justice.

A View from the Ramparts

I still had hopes of taking the (shaky) cable car over the Volga but I was somewhat overwhelmed with exhaustion and hunger. Instead, I thought I’d take a walk down the main street, Ulitsa Pokrovskaya. I thought it would be a quick, ten-minute walk, but there was so much to see that it took me over an hour to get to Gorky Park and I still hadn’t seen everything. Pokrovskaya was filled with restaurants, a few museums, and lots and lots of people. Young folks were handing out flyers to restaurants and shops and there were even some (creepy) clowns performing. I decided to try and find Gorky’s childhood home but the signs were not quite helpful. Instead, I opted for a picture of his statue. But his presence still seems to loom large after all these years. In addition to bookstores and libraries, I saw statues and murals that had a definite literature theme. There also seemed to be a feline literature theme as well; although I’m not sure why. (No murals of reading dogs as they seemed to be too busy rooting around in the trash) 

Smarty Cat

On the Prowl 

As sunset became dusk, I made my way down the hill on foot. I found a nice restaurant with a Belgian theme. I had seen fish on the menu and had hoped that it was a local catch. Unfortunately, the Volga fish, at least in the Nizhny region, don’t appear to be edible. In fact, I finally had local fish when I was at Lake Baikal, thousands of kilometers away. Regardless, I was happy with the food and pleased with my decision to come to Nizhny-Novgorod. When I do this trip again I will schedule more time in the city so I can better enjoy the attractions and the history. Oh, and I’m going to find a nicer hotel!

Getting Dorky with Gorky

Ridiculous Spoon Monument

So Vlad You Came

St. Vladimir  Blesses Me

My trip across Russia truly began in earnest on August 27, when I took a short ride out to Vladimir. Once again, I was very impressed with the Russian railroad system. The high-speed train only took two hours to travel to this lovely city in Russia’s Golden Ring. I have a feeling that twenty years ago, this same trip would have been on a rickety electrichka (inter-city train) that would have stopped at every other lamppost and arrived somewhere in the area of four hours. Today, the trip was fast, clean, and the train announcements were made in both Russian and English.

Siberian-style House

The Golden Ring is a series of ancient cities that surround Moscow. They are filled with beautiful and historic monasteries and churches that miraculously remained untouched during the Soviet era. Next to Suzdal (which I did not visit), Vladimir is one of the best in the bunch, where you can find the beautiful Assumption Cathedral with original art by the immortal icon painter Andrei Rublev. What I found most interesting about the ancient architecture is that it is based the churches and defensive structures of Kyiv. Before Moscow became the center of the Russian empire, Kyiv was where it was all happening. The great Prince Vladimir, who brought Christianity to the Rus people, was from Ukraine, not Russia (Thus “Kyiv-Rus” NOT “Rus-Kyiv”). Russians have tried over the years to deny this fact (the Soviets were famous deniers) but facts is facts and the Russian nation started in Kyiv. Over time his successors began to drift towards the Moscow area, first making Vladimir the capital of the emerging Russian nation. Therefore, there is a defensive gate based upon the Golden Gate in Kyiv. The Assumption Cathedral also has the feel of an ancient Ukrainian Orthodox church with onion domes, white exterior, and an interior filled with icons and the smell of incense. But of course this is not ordinary cathedral, as it was built beginning in 1158 and has remained intact with several changes despite centuries of war and political change. But unlike many of the churches in Moscow and Kyiv which are reproductions of earlier structures (ask the Soviets what happened to them!), this cathedral is the real deal. The icons, including the Rublev’s, are suitably dimmed with age. Additionally, the smell of incense fills the air and tourists inevitably rub elbows with worshipers and pilgrims who relentlessly bless themselves and venerate the many icons throughout the cathedral. An added highlight was the view behind the cathedral. A short walk out back reveals the Oka River which cuts through the fine-looking valley below.

Golden Gate

While the city of Vladimir was incredible from an historic point of view, my stay at a local wooden cabin hotel outside of town was the cultural highlight. This was the time where I got to hang out with the locals and learn a little bit more about their lives. When I booked the hotel months ago, I knew it was a little bit outside of town. I thought I could take an quick marshrutka and all would be well. I was soon informed by the wonderful Sofia at the train station that it was best to take a taxi to the hotel as a bus would take much too long. So this wonderful woman helped me arrange for the taxi and made sure the driver had the correct directions. Off we went, traveling, traveling, traveling. I began to wonder if we were going the correct way; fortunately, Google maps was working and I was able to locate the hotel. Boy, was it far away! I knew that I probably would not be doing much traveling the next day and decided I would just stay put. So I rang the bell, and out came Svetlana, the wife. She spoke very little English but my Russian was more than sufficient. She got me settled in my cozy cabin and then said she would prepare dinner for me (paid for, of course). Then the fun began.

Assumption Cathedral #1

Assumption Cathedral #2

Before dinner, I went with her husband, Valeryi, to walk their German Shepard. Or shall I say, the German Shepard walked us. Valeryi was a kind, talkative 60-year old man who liked to try out his English whenever possible. I’m not sure how many words he knows but he punctuated his speech with a well-timed adjective whenever possible (the dog was “quick, quick” and “crazy”). As he was dragged along by his monster canine, we discussed my travels and life in Vladimir. I also got a good look at the neighborhood which was filled with Siberian-looking houses; although we were far from Siberia. When we arrived back home, Svetlana invited us in for dinner. Immediately upon sitting down, my eyes were drawn to the cabinet which, like most Russian households, was filled with knickknacks of varying relevance. But, as hard as I tried, I could not avoid seeing on the top right-hand corner a picture of ole’ Vladimir Putin and next to the current dictator, I mean President, a flask with an engraving of Stalin. Oh boy! I steadied myself for an encounter I might not want to have. And yes, as much as I didn’t want to talk politics, Valeryi did. He told me about the strong Vladimir Putin and how important it was to take back Crimea and help our Russian brothers. As he said this, he joined his fingers from both his right and left hands to show a sign of unity and strength. Svetlana, who seemed more practical of the two, talked about how she could not wait until they built the bridge into Crimea and they could then drive to Yalta. I didn’t take the bait. I was not going to be dragged into a conversation about Ukraine. But it gave me more clarity on how some (or perhaps many) Russians think. As it has been throughout their history, they believe that the world; especially the West, is against them and that Russia must unite all Slavs in opposition. They have been deluded into thinking that the Ukrainian crisis was an invention of the West and that they must stick up for their brethren. They don’t seem to understand that despite the number of Russians in Ukraine, that it is a separate country that Russia just can’t go into at its discretion. First Georgia, then Ukraine, and then…the Baltics? I chose not to pursue this point.

With Svetlana

With Valeryi and Bearskin 

As a couple Svetlana and Valeryi seem like any long-lasting partnership in any country in the world. She, as a good Russian wife, makes the dinner and takes care of guests. He, as the good Russian husband, does the heavy chores, pays the bills, and sits down and eats here (delicious) meals. There is also the requisite joshing and eye rolls at statements that have been repeated ad nauseum over the years. Case in point, Stalin. I have a feeling that Valeryi wanted to talk about Stalin all evening. He kept looking up at the engraving and was more interested in him than Putin. Valeryi began to talk about how he admired Stalin, not for the bad things, of course. There was no mention about camps, knocks on doors in the middle of the night, and mental breakdowns after the German invasion. Instead he talked about how the prices on food was always low, and how everyone had a job and an apartment, and, and, and…Again, I chose not to interrupt because there were too many holes in which to blow through his arguments. Svetlana, for her part, just rolled her eyes and said that things were not always that great. She clearly had heard these arguments before. Valeryi just winked across the table and said that they were an “Italian couple”, and lightly banged his fists together. This brought another eye roll from Svetlana. It was then time for another toast, as I drank the Georgian wine and he drank more vodka. After a few hours of this great company, and some delicious stuffed peppers, I made my way to bed. 

Masha

I was lucky enough to stay another day at their hotel. I decided not to travel into Vladimir, even though it was their city days; usually lots of people and lots of fun. I didn’t feel like making the trip and then trying to get back. So I spent the day catching up on sleep and email. After another wonderful dinner, and similar conversation, I called it a night. The next day there were hugs all around. I felt that I had made one of those special connections you can only make when you cross national and cultural borders. Since that time, I have not had as many interactions as this but I hope to change that as I go deeper and deeper into the Russian Far East.

Unlucky Bear

Budapest and Moscow Have Figured It Out!

One of the highlights of my trip to Budapest was a trip outside the city to a place called Memento Park. This is an open-air museum that was created to house statues of the former Communist regime. Anyone who knows the history of Hungary, especially 1956, will understand that the era of Soviet rule was far from pretty. But other than tearing down a statue of Stalin in 1956 (and leaving his boots), there appears not to have been a slate of desecrating monuments from the ‘bad-old-days’. It was decided that these statues and reliefs would be best served as a museum of remembrance. Russia, as well, was left with many statues from the USSR days. Although there appears to be a Lenin still standing in most major cities (and perhaps towns as well), many of the older monuments have been removed. In Moscow Muzeom Park along the river is where you will find many of these far-from-forgotten characters.

Like my first day in St. Petersburg, my initial day in Moscow was spent walking and seeing the city. I started in Red Square, and what a mess! Unlike twenty-five years ago, when things were less touristy, I felt like I had the place all to myself. Not today, or ever again. I was immediately overwhelmed by the sight of dozens of tourists snapping pictures in the Revolution Square metro stop while Muscovites attempted to get on with their day. I finally made a dash for the stairs and emptied out in to Red Square where I was met with more tour groups and the closing of the square. Apparently, there was some sort of major event in the offing and Red Square was filled with tents, fencing, and more tour groups jostling for limited space. This is where I decided it was best to begin my trek down the Moscow River towards…who knows. 

Peter the Great

As I strolled along the river, I noticed the constant construction. I’m guessing this is in anticipation of World Cup 2018, right around the corner. But it seems like the construction has been going on for years. Soviet buildings have been replaced by modern edifices and clean, new parks. I was drawn further down the river towards, what appeared to be an enormous statue of a man steering a boat. Yes, indeed, I had come upon the horrible statue of Peter the Great. Muscovites hate this monument for many reasons, the least of which is how ugly it is. It smacks of the Soviet/Russian predilection for gigantism. There is literally no purpose for this statue…except one thing, if I had not seen it I might have missed Muzeom Park.

Although I had head of YYYY Park, I didn’t know where it was located and I had not made solid plans to visit. But I seem to have come upon it at the perfect time; I was tired of walking and I found lots of benches and lush grass to sit upon. As I was sitting, chugging my water, I began to notice the statues. Hey, it looks like Lenin over there! No surprise as Lenin is still accepted here, if not venerated, over twenty-five years after the fall of the Soviet Union. 

Hey, it's Lenin!

Then I saw the other heroes of the Soviet state: Marx, Engels, Brezhnev, and even Felix Derzhinsky. Yes, the same founder of the NKVD, who helped both Lenin and Stalin institute the organs of terror. Mixed in with the horrific Communist rabble, there were statues of poets, writers, and dissidents like Andrei Sakharov. As someone who loves history and photography, I had a field day at the park. I was taking pictures left, right, and center. I kept taking photos until I was just too hot and exhausted. When I sat down, I looked around and began to observe the locals. I saw office workers on their lunch breaks, bikers, skateboarders, parents with children, and other tourists. It was the things I didn’t see which struck me the most. Many of these statues were of quite horrible people; yes, there were even some Stalin statues. But no one seemed to mind. The statues blended in with the people’s daily life and seemed not to affect them. I didn’t see protests. There were no plaques designed to describe their crimes, real or imagined. It didn’t even appear that people were silently judging which statue offended them the most. Also, the statues were clear of any graffiti by those looking to grind an axe or two. And believe me, Russians have many axes to grind if they so choose. With all this going through my mind, I wondered why we can’t do something similar. Instead of erasing history for fear of offending others, why can’t we do like the Hungarians and the Russians: save the history, make a park, if you don’t like it…don’t go. Not a very revolutionary idea, but does it need to be?

Global Soviet

Stalin

Mr. Excitement - Brezhnev (#1)

Mr. Excitement - Brezhnev (#2)

Sakharov

Iron Felix Dzerzhinsky