After deciding to move to Siberia for a year to teach at the
Chita State Technical University, I embarked on a travel odyssey
unlike any other. In this entry, we pick up the trip leaving the
train station in Khabarovsk.
A Train To Nowhere?
In deciding to travel to Chita, Siberia, I had originally
estimated a travel time of three days. Okay, maybe three at the
outside figuring time changes and such.
As day 4 of the trip headed into the afternoon, I was finally on
the train that would take me to Chita and figured I would be
there in a day or so. I would finally get to see the beautiful
and extreme landscape of Russia. To make things even better, I
would get to brag to my friends about riding on the famous
Trans-Siberian railway. This was going to be great. As is often
the case with anticipated events, reality threw an ugly wrench
in the proceedings.
Stop…Go…Stop…Go
In California, there are two types of trains you can take. The
first is an express train that pretty much takes you from point
A to point B with few stops in between. For those traveling
shorter distances, there is a “slow train” that stops at every
little town and station. In Russia, we were clearly on the slow
train.
As we pulled out of the train station in Khabarovsk,
anticipation was in the air. The train slowly gained speed. We
stared out the window as the city started to pass at an
increasing pace. After about 5 minutes, we stared out the window
as the city started to pass at a DECREASING pace. After a few
more minutes, we stopped at another train station.
Ah, there are probably two big stations in the city and it makes
sense to pick up everyone for the trip across the country. Soon
enough, the whistle blew and off we went again. Smiles spread
across our face. These disappeared roughly 5 minutes later as we
stopped again.
My god, how many train stations are there in this city? I can
tell you there are at least 5 since we stopped at that many.
With time spent sitting in each little train station, an hour
had passed and we weren’t even out of the city!
As I stood at a window in the hall, a Russian man heard me
muttering and decided to practice his English. We chatted. I
remarked on the number of stops. He grimaced and told me the
trip to Chita would take 3 plus days. I grimaced. And nearly
cried like a small child. Three days in a train compartment no
bigger than a closet. Oh, my.
Then he told me the food car on the train was closed for the
trip. Since this is a clean web site, I can’t print the words I
uttered at that moment. Just picture the reaction of Homer
Simpson on learning there is no more beer in Springfield.
My new Russian friend smiled and said, “What does that word
mean? We never learned that.”
Read more of this Russian Travelogue at NomadJournalTrips.com.
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