Entry 22: 7 November, 2011
On Thursday afternoon, I hopped on a bus around 3 pm to head to the Mosckovsky Train Station. I'm not quite sure why the Nizhny Novgorod train station's namesake is Moscow, but, as Brenda Bray reminded me this week, when things do not make sense in Russia, it is often better just not to ask questions. Katya and I arrived at the station nearly exactly at the same time. We had a half hour or so to wait before we could board the train. Katya and I would be traveling to Moscow together, but she would be staying a day longer than I, so I would be returning on my own.
(Fun side note: The word in Russian for a train station is “вокзал” (pronounced vak-ZAL). Say that aloud and see if it sounds like anything else familiar to you that you associate with trains. If your first instinct was the Vauxhall Station in London, you would be absolutely correct. When I was writing my course paper in the spring on foreign borrowings into Russian, I learned that Russian borrowed the word “vauxhall” and extended it to mean all train stations. I'm guessing this was probably the result of a misunderstanding between the name of the station and what a station is actually called. Language is so fascinating!)
There are four different classes on a typical Russian train. First class means you get a compartment to yourself. Second class means you have a compartment for four with a door. You may share this with a different party. Third class is just like second class except without the door and there are additional bunks on the other side of the hallway. I'm going to try to attempt a depiction here using words.
BUNK-BUNK-BUNK-BUNK H-H-H-H-H B-B-B-B
BUNK-BUNK-BUNK-BUNK A-A-A-A-A U-U-U-U
BUNK-BUNK-BUNK-BUNK L-L-L-L-L-L N-N-N-N
L-L-L-L-L-L K-K-K-K
TABLE-TABLE W-W-W-W- B-B-B-B
TABLE-TABLE A-A-A-A-A U-U-U-U
Y-Y-Y-Y-Y- N-N-N-N
BUNK-BUNK-BUNK-BUNK H-H-H-H-H K-K-K-K
BUNK-BUNK-BUNK-BUNK A-A-A-A-A B-B-B-B
BUNK-BUNK-BUNK-BUNK L-L-L-L-L-L U-U-U-U
The section in bold on the bunk to the right side of the hallway was the part of the bed the flipped up to be a table. There was also an upper bunk on that side, but there were not enough people on the train to have to use it. Both times I had a lower bunk in the more compartment-like area. When I had asked Katya what the difference was between 2nd and 3rd class she said the only real difference was the door and that she actually preferred third class so that you are shut into a little room with people you've never met before.
The train left Nizhny exactly on the dot at 16:10 (or 4:10 pm, if you prefer). Katya and I had an upper and lower bunk. The two other compartment-like bunks were taken by other young people, and we had a third at the bunch on the other side of the small hallway. The other girl hopped up on the top bunk and slept/dozed for nearly the whole trip. Katya decided to lay down for awhile on the other top bunk while I did some reading. The two guys played on their computer and phone......for hours. One of the guys, who we later learned was named Vadik, really loved rock music. He loved it so much he decided to share it with the rest of us...for hours. I like rock music as much as the next guy, but I also like to chose what sort I listen to and when. That young man is going to go completely deaf by age thirty if he does not become highly acquainted with the volume control on his electronic music devices. After a few hours, Katya and I ate some food she had brought. We had cheese, bread, bananas and crackers. I also had kefir for the first time. If you've seen kefir in the organic section at your local grocer's, I have it on Katya's authority that it's nothing like Russian kefir. The best I can describe it is that it has the consistency of drinkable yogurt and tastes somewhat like a plain vanilla yogurt with a tanginess to it. I'm not sure how I feel about it. It is definitely quite different from anything we have back home in the good ol' U.S. of A.
A bit after this, the other young man, not the one blasting ACDC, came back to sit on his bunk with a book that looked old and was falling apart at the seems. Katya asked what he was reading, and it was an anatomy textbook. We came to learn that he, Dima, and his buddy, Vadik, were students at the Medical University in Nizhny Novgorod and were going into Moscow to stay with Dima's family. We talked about the concept of “friend for an hour” which you meet when on an airplane or train. Vadik finally decided to turn off the rock and unglued his eyes from his iPhone for a while to be social. We talked and joked with them for an hour or so, and then they went out for a smoke. In the meanwhile, someone Katya knew walked by, and he went to grab his girlfriend to meet us. When Dima and Vadik came back, we had a small conversation party going in wagon number 4.
I gave the Brays a call when I was about 20 minutes out. The station I went into was only one metro stop away from the Brays' apartment. When Katya and I got off the train we were greeted by her friend Airat, who works as an English tour guide in Moscow, giving free walking tours. At the end of the platform I found Phil and Brenda. At the metro station I said goodbye and good luck to Katya, as she was not quite sure where the place she was to be staying was. Airat invited us to a walking tour beginning at 10 the following morning. As my train arrived just before midnight, we were all pretty tired when we got back to the apartment. I got a quick tour of the Brays' nice apartment, took a shower, and went to bed.
On my return to Nizhny Novgorod, I was going out of a different station in a different part of the city at midnight. This is too late to take the metro and be able to return to the apartment, and the Bray's neighbor Mario graciously drove us to the station. Apparently, due to construction, there is an underground path or “perihod” which one must take to get from the metro to the station, and it is frequented by many drunks and drug addicts. Thus, it was a double blessing that Mario was willing to drive Phil and I there. Mario, who I mention more in “Operation: MOSCOW – Peoples of Moscow,” is a black belt and used to be a cop in Frankfurt, Germany. I have never felt so safe while in Russia before.
Phil and Mario walked me to my wagon, and I bid them farewell and jumped aboard...literally. The only other trains I have been on have been on the West Coast in America. Usually the wagon hangs a bit over the platform so you can climb aboard using a few steps either built into the wagon or placed there by railway staff at every stop. Not so in Russia. There are no steps. Instead there is a little distance between you on the platform and the train. Usually this isn't too bad, but the largest gap was about a foot. Luckily I just had carry-on luggage. I believe a suitcase would complicate things. Upon entering I noticed this train was much older than the one I had arrived on. The train Katya and I took together was very clean, new seeming, and the bunks were nicely cushioned. There was nothing underneath the bottom bunk on that train so you could just slide your things beneath the seat. I had laid down to read for a bit on the first train and had found it ever so comfortable. Unfortunately, this second train was not so nice.
The bunk was basically a metal bench with a leather covering. Your posterior would fall asleep within ten minutes of sitting on it. I did not anticipate much sleep coming from that bunk, and my assumption, unfortunately, came to fruition. Everyone got a very thin futon-like mattress, that helped a little. Everyone who paid for them (which I assume was everyone) got a package of linens including a pillowcase and two sheets which were sealed in plastic so that you knew they were clean. I grabbed a wool blanket (you know, one of those itchy-scratchy ones that you know is a good blanket because it will be very warm, but you also hate them because they are so itchy and you try to avoid any contact with said blanket) and made up my bed.
The one thing I did like about this train more than the other is that the bottom bunks lifted up and beneath was a closed storage place. Thus I could put my things under the bed, which no one could access while I slept. Thus I wouldn't have to worry about anything happening to them. Granted everyone was sleeping or attempting to sleep the whole time, but an extra precaution never hurts. No one had the bunk above me, and the bunks adjacent to me were occupied by a married couple that was pretty quiet.
As I anticipated sleep would be elusive I was going to try to read for a while, but all of the lights were turned off, eliminating that as an option. Therefore I tried to sleep. I think I probably got two or three hours of fitful sleep total. The train pulled into Nizhny around six in the morning. I then took a bus back to the dorm. I know I couldn't have been outside for two long, not more than 15-20 minutes, but it seemed like forever because it was bitter cold. I was wearing my long down jacket, gloves, a hat, and scarf, but I was still chilly. I sent a text message to the Brays so that they would know I had made it back safely. I got to the dorm around 6:30. I could remember when it opened, but the doors were open and the security guard just waved me by. I had left my key for my room with the hostess in the off-chance something happened when I was away and there would be a need to get into my room. However, when I got to my floor, all the lights were off. I didn't want to knock on the hostess's door and wake her up, so I settled down on the couch to wait the half-hour or so until she was up. However, she heard me and got up anyway. Thus I was able to go to my room, take a quick shower, and lay down for an hour and a half before I needed to get up to go to the university.
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