Siberia, Russia Part 2 - Where Are We and What Day Is It?
Standing in the airport in San Diego, I began to wonder exactly
how long it was going to take to get to the city of Chita in
Siberia. The combination of a vodka hangover, three flights, one
train ride and a jump over the international date line didn't
help. At first glance, it looked like a total of two days, which
wasn't bad for going to the other side of the earth.
I should have paid more attention in math.
The itinerary for getting from San Diego to Chita read like
this:
1.Fly from San Diego to Seattle.
2.Meet charity representative and other professor.
3.Fly from Seattle to Anchorage.
4.Fly from Anchorage on Aeroflot [gulp] to Khabarovsk, Russia.
5.Take train from Khabarovsk to Chita.
How bad could it be? Very, very, very bad. Did I mention "bad"?
Day 1
The flight to Seattle was no problem. I met Tom Dickinson, the
founder of Siberian Intercultural Bridges, but we couldn't find
the other teacher. Turns out the flight to Anchorage wasn't till
the next morning, so it didn't really appear to be a problem.
Around midnight, our attitude changed and we had written off the
teacher.
Day 2
At 8 a.m., Grea Waters from Kentucky appears out of the Seattle
mist. We have our second professor and he speaks fluent Russian.
This is a big relief as I had spent a lot of the previous
evening contemplating my Russian skills. That is to say, I had
none. I couldn't even pronounce the name of city we would land
in, Khabarovsk. I nearly had a panic attack during the night
when I bolted up in bed upon the realization that I would have
no way of knowing how to get to the train or when to get off.
You see, the Russian language is based on the Cyrillic alphabet.
There is no way to wing the Cyrillic alphabet. For example, the
letter "y" is pronounced "ch" as in Charlie. I was in definite
trouble. Would the rest of my life be spent riding around
aimlessly on trains? The continued grinning of Tom Dickinson
didn't make me feel any better.
Our flight from Seattle to Anchorage was uneventful. Yes, we
flew Alaska Airlines. While waiting for our connection in
Anchorage, two thoughts kept running though my head. First,
isn't Aeroflot the airline with all the crashes? Second, how did
a man from Kentucky become fluent in Russian? I mean, what about
his accent? I was feeling less confident about my translator and
decided to investigate. I started rubbing my temples when he
told me that he had never been to Russia. Alas, there was no
turning back. Trust me, I tried. But that's a story to be told
in Part 3 of this nomad adventure travel series...
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