Georgia Part 1: Two nights on a train

Here it is, the long-awaited Georgia Blog Post. Ironically, it took my computer breaking, thereby denying me the distractions of Facebook, iTunes, Spider solitaire, and, occasionally, homework, to get me to actually sit down and write. Admittedly, I have pages and pages of notes, but to turn them into something that would be interesting for others to read seemed to require more time and energy than I could find in the past couple of weeks. Because this blog post is covering three weeks of occasions, impressions, and thoughts, it’s very long. Therefore, I’ve broken it into several more manageable chunks, to make it easier for you both to read about and to comment on specific aspects of my trip (I know the feeling of getting to the end of a long blog and forgetting what I wanted to say about something at the beginning). Part 1, written on the train ride from Piter to Kiev, I’ve typed up from my handwritten journal; everything else here is written from the “I’ve been back in Piter for two weeks” point of view, rather than the more immediate “Holy cow I’m in Georgia!” point of view. Please enjoy!

Georgia Part 1: Two nights on a train

18/12/2008 12:15 AM

I’m sitting in Moscovsky train station in Piter. Nikolai and his friend, two random Russians who took interest in me in the metro, helped me with my luggage on the transfer between Dostoevskaya and Vladimirskaya metro stations, but they didn’t insist when I declined coffee. [Note: In Russia, coffee = sex. Usually.] I’m nervous as hell about this trip, although I’m feeling some post-rush around calm. At least I do –– f***. I forgot the peanut butter. And I thought I had everything. Well, I guess Rezo will just have to go without. He’s managed for 24 years, I’m sure he’ll manage a while longer. Dang it!


18/12/2008 11:20 AM

[On the train from Piter to Moscow] I ended up in a compartment with FIVE men. The two on the end were friends and talked a lot; the rest of us sat in silence. When the train left it was super hot, but by the middle of the night I was glad for the thick wool blanket. Every time I rolled over I woke up, but I did manage to sleep long enough to have a dream. Only now I don’t remember it.

We arrived on schedule, and I decided to take my bags to the storage room at Kievsky train station. Luckily, Kievsky is located just five metro stops from Leningradsky [my arrival point in Moscow], so I only had to wrestle my stuff through two metro stations – no transfers. Wrestle is definitely the word I would use – even though I’m using Galya’s small suitcase, I also have my computer tote, purse, and bag of provisions for the train. I sort of wish I was hungrier so I’d eat that stuff faster.

I’m sitting in McDonald’s right now, drinking the first cup of coffee I’ve had in Russia that’s been worth the four bucks and eating Galya’s apple pirozhki, which I snuck on a plate to make it look like I bought them here.

My train to Kiev leaves in about five hours. After breakfasting and resting my feet (I’m in heels! Smart, huh?), I’m going to spend a few hours perusing the collection at the Tretyakov Gallery. I’ve been to the Tretyakov Gallery of Modern Art a couple times and really liked it, but the “classic” Tretyakov I’ve been to only once, in 2005, and we had a tour guide who kept switching between Russian and English so that my poor brain couldn’t understand anything she was saying (I’d only been in Russia about two months at that point, and my listening comprehension was still not that great).


18/12/2008 4:30 PM

Sitting in the train to Kiev. We should be taking off in about 15 minutes. Some asshole selling cell phones of questionable origin started hitting on me in the train station, and wouldn’t leave me alone, no matter what I said. I told him I was married, I told him to leave me alone, but he kept following me all the way out the station and down the platform to my car (which, of course, was way at the far end of the platform). It just really pisses me off that a woman traveling alone is instantly open to disrespectful, objectifying treatment from men. I SHOULD have just as much of a right as men do to travel in peace without having to fight off punk jerks all the time.


19/12/2008 6:45 AM Kiev Time (7:45 AM Moscow Time)

I ended up traveling with just four people in my compartment, so there was a little more room for everybody. At the same time, my traveling companions were the most interesting ones I’ve had to date. Artyom – works in a construction company near the border with Ukraine, returning home after an urgent business trip to Moscow. Andrei – quiet, 30-something, plays pop music (in the form of downloaded ringtones) on his cell phone WAY too loud. And Irina – Irina takes the cake. 41 years old, she’s just returned from a birthday party and is completely drunk. Not the slur-your-words kind of drunk, unfortunately, but a belligerent drunk. She kept saying rude things to the guys, like, “I’m watching you, thieves! I know you want to steal my phone!” and absolutely HORRIBLE things about Ukrainians – even though Andrei was Ukrainian, and she herself was on her way to Kiev. She kept assuring me that the Ukrainian customs officers were going to be total bastards in comparison to their Russian counterparts. Luckily, I got on her good side by filling out her Ukrainian migration card for her – she was too drunk to write legibly in the little boxes – and she left me alone.

While Irina alternated between a sound sleep and rude exchanges with our fellow passengers, Artyom and I had a bit of our own stilted conversation (I’m just not sure what you’re supposed to talk about with strangers on the train, or how much info about myself it’s appropriate to reveal) before he went off to find someone else to talk to. I went to sleep the first time around 8:30, woke up for Russian customs and passport control at 11:15 (I was the only American in my car. Everyone, including me, watched the multi-entry visa stamping process with interest – I’ve never seen it done before), then woke up again around 3 AM Moscow time for Ukrainian customs and passport control.

We arrived in Kiev at 5:10 AM local time, Andrei helped me with my bags, I exchanged $20 for grivnyas, and got in a marshrutka to the airport. 45 minutes we drove – and that with no traffic – and now I’m waiting to check in, because so far it’s too early.

I wish I had some time to explore Kiev/ Ukraine. It looks a lot like Russia, but everything’s in Ukrainian, which is just different enough from Russian that I don’t always trust that I understand what I’m reading. Everyone I’ve talked to so far speaks Russian, thank goodness. I’ve heard that in some parts of Ukraine, particularly in the western part of the country, they’ll pretend like they don’t understand you if you speak Russian. I can imagine some fairly frustrating situations arising in the event that my interlocutor also didn’t speak English.

Just a few hours from now I’ll be in Georgia. Don’t even really know what to expect. What I’d really like to do is take a shower. Hope it’s not rude to ask for one first thing.