Monthly Archives: May 2014

МЧС России (The Ministry of Emergency Situations)

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When I was little, we were taken on a tour of the fire station. It was exciting to see the different tools the firemen used, hold the large spray hoses, and put on a firemen suit. Imagine this same situation, only now the tour is in Russian and the facility is not only a fire station, but the Siberian Regional Center of the Ministry of Emergency Situations and you can imagine the experience we had yesterday morning. The МЧС responds to natural disasters in the same way that FEMA does in the United States. However, I also got the impression from this tour that responders are involved in rescue efforts of individuals in much the same way as alpine rescue units in the U.S. 
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Beyond learning the basic tools required for rescue operations in Siberia and some chilling reminders of the work members of the МЧС complete, we were also given an insight into the incredible time and dedication it takes to become an emergency responder with the МЧС. Our tour guide told us that he has multiple degrees and considers himself to hold as many as twenty different occupations, including driver and gynecologist. He took us around the training complex for the МЧС and we got to see the rock climbing wall (which responders must be able to scale in under two minutes and repel down in under 40 seconds), the pool, diving equipment, and capsules designed specifically to simulate the experience of being underwater for an extended period of time.

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Obviously not my photo as it is not fall here but a nice picture of the center nonetheless. Source: www.tuvaonline.ru


Water is especially important to the Siberian division of the МЧС as it is located right on the banks of Lake Baikal and many of their rescue operations involve water. We were reassured that for helicopter drivers no landing is impossible, be it on land, water, or ice. We saw rescue boats that can cross the lake in twenty minutes (a staggeringly fast time) and on which two twin boys were born in a storm. Diving is also a serious part of responders’ job and every Thursday is “diving day,” during which responders practice diving in order to stay on top of their training.
The tour was a very interesting contrast to our  earlier experiences at Lake Baikal. We have been focusing our attention on the history of settlement as well as sacred sites around the lake. And yet, there is another side to the lake that I am beginning to see here in Irkutsk. For members of the МЧС, the lake can be a force to be reckoned with. Hearing about the training these men (and it is almost all men, because women are not suited for the job, according to our tour guide–but that’s another blog post,) go through has made me confident that, should we encounter a problem, they could probably handle it. 

Gramicidin S

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When I woke up one morning with a sore throat here in Russia, the usual thoughts crossed my mind. Was it a cold? Could it be strep throat? Should I go to the doctor? After assessing the situation, I decided that no, it was not strep throat (or perhaps I was just terrified at the possibility of explaining to a doctor that I thought I had стрептококковое, roughly transliterated as streptokokkovoe). Luckily for me, our friend Lera was able to help me at the drug store and recommend some tablets that I could take. This in and of itself may sound pretty routine. However, the experience highlighted to me some of the major differences between the health care system in the United States and the health care system in Russia. Here, prescriptions are not required to purchase antibiotics and the difference in price between prescription drugs here and back home is astounding. Since health care is such an important and controversial issue back in the United States, I have found the attitude here to be especially interesting. Obviously, a fair comparison of these health care systems would require much more space than a blog post and someone who understands the system in the U.S. way better than I do. However, it is definitely a major difference that has caused me to examine the way things are done back at home.

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Gause


Back to the sore throat (because my mom might be reading this and wanting to know what these mysterious pills are that I took): being my mother’s daughter, I did my research before I took the magical throat pills and discovered that there is actually a very interesting history behind Gramicidin S. The antibiotic was discovered by Georgii Frantsevitch Gause and his wife Maria Brazhnikova in 1942. Gause was working as an ecologist when the Second World War broke in 1939. He started working for national defense, began collaborating with the Disinfection Institute and helped establish a laboratory for work on antibiotics. Within two years, he and his wife had isolated the strain of bacteria that would eventually become Gramicidin S. The antibiotic was already being used on the front lines in 1943. Gause eventually won the Stalin Prize for Medicine in 1946. (Gall and Konashev).
Sources:
Gall, Yasha M. and Konashev, Mikhail B. “The Discovery of Gramicidin S: the Intellectual Transformation of G.F. Gause From Biologist to Researcher of Antibiotics and on its Meaning for the Fate of Russian Genetics.” History and Philosophy of the Life Sciences, Vol. 23, No. 1, 2003, pp. 137-150. Accessed through JSTOR.

The Melting Pot of Religion

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Historic Buryatia is a crossroad of religion. Native polytheistic shamanism was joined and accommodated by Tibetan Buddhism in the early 1700s. The Orthodox Church, originally discouraged from activities in Siberia because conversion would prevent tribes from paying their lucrative tribute to Moscow,  was also finally allowed to begin operations under the reign of Peter I in 1710.1 Old Believer schismatics were added to the mix several decades later when Catherine II removed them from parts of the western empire and placed them in Siberia because their reputation for being diligent workers along with their historic opposition to the seat of Russian power seemed an apt solution to Siberia’s underdevelopment.

Sacred Sight

One of the many sacred sites along the shores of Lake Baikal.


Old Believer Cross

An Old Believer cross visible from the same sacred site.


Dilara has already written a wonderful blog on the concept of Dvoeverie, or the dual faith that arose when Orthodox Christianity was introduced to the indigenous polytheistic religions, but Buryatia takes this further. In Buryatia, these four ways of worship intermix into a culture that allows for a large amount of interchange. At a Buddhist Datsan, Rada, our dedicated and fantastic guide, explained that religions are just different paths to the same God.2The Old Believer priest who led us through his museum seconded this message when, after crossing himself before his church, he turned to us and said pray in anyway that you feel comfortable.
Datsan

Part of the Ivolginsky Datsan, one of the many Buddhist temples found across Buryatia.


Strangely enough, this idea of mixing faiths seems embodied by the Soviet atheist museum that was located in Ulan-Ude’s Holy Trinity Cathedral. Here various elements of shamanistic rituals were preserved along side statues of Buddhist Taras in an Orthodox church. However, as Dilara yet again has noted in another post this juxtaposition took place as the government was trying to stamp out all religions in the region. In our few days here we have experienced all of these religions. We have visited Old Believers, circumambulated Datsans and given offerings to Baikal all in perfect harmony. There doesn’t seem to be any contest let alone conquest of religions, but rather peaceful coexistence and exchange.
  1. Anna Reid. The Shaman’s Coat. (Walker & Company, New York, 2003). 46.
  2.  In the case of polytheistic shamanism, the multiplicity of gods fits into the Buddhist hierarchy.

That Time I Got Married in Siberia

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In this episode: All the family members who regularly read our blog anxiously check to make sure that their student didn’t accidentally get hitched in Siberia.  But don’t worry, Mom and Dad, I’m sure we’ll all laugh a lot about this someday.
The second leg of our tour of cultures yesterday was Tarbagatai, a town primarily inhabited by Semeisky, Russian Orthodox Old Believers.  Back in 1666, the Great Schism (Raskol in Russian) cleft the Russian Orthodox Church in two, after over a decade of debate about reforms passed by Patriarch Nikon.  In an attempt to become closer to their Greek Orthodox counterparts, Nikon enacted hundreds of pages of liturgical changes, such as altering the sign of the cross from two fingers to three, changing the spelling (at that time) of Jesus’s name, and allowing icons to be painted upon a greater variety of surfaces, as opposed to just wood.

Left: Old Believer sign of the cross technique. Right: Russian Orthodox (Pravoslavny) hand position.


Understandably, not everyone agreed with the new set of practices.  Old Believers, fewer in number, emerged notably scathed from the Raskol; they were  given trouble during the time of Peter the Great (he personally cut the long beards of his courtiers), and have been historically persecuted throughout the centuries.  Some Old Believers fled or were exiled to Siberia, and here, small pockets of them have remained.
Our first stop in Tarbagatai was lunch – cabbage rolls, soup, pork and mashed potatoes, bread and jam: almost every single item on the table was homemade, save for the salt and sugar if I heard correctly.
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After lunch, a group of traditional Semeisky singers entered the room and began serenading us with fast, fun songs.  Their style is fascinating in that each member of the ensemble sings a musically distinct part.  Imagine how a 10-person choir must sound!
After a couple songs, the beautiful female singer said they were going to need a model for the next part.  It was the Russian version of, “May I have a volunteer?”, a question that makes my blood run cold in the states.  I was at the end of the table, and we happened to make eye contact.  She pointed at me, and I was like, “Me?” just to make sure.  I  got up and joined them.  We made introductions and then she began dressing me in traditional Semeisky clothing, in beautifully colorful and soft fabrics, all hand-sewn.
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As we went layer by layer, I found out I was being dressed in the clothing a young lady wears as she’s going out to be married.  By now, the male singers had long since lost interest and left the room, but I saw one of them pop in and grab Edward out of the group.  Sure enough, Edward burst through the door not long after, also dressed in traditional garb, and bowed deeply.
The rest of the “ceremony” was all silliness; we sang and danced, and the whole group played a hug-and-cheeck kissing game involving a pillow and a carefully-selected partner.  I like to think that we all became a little closer after that.
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Chet being a good sport and going with the flow.


Anyways, I have to laugh now, because I realize that the duck charms I bought a couple hours earlier at the Buddhist Dat-san  worked; the lady who sold them to me said if you put them near the place you sleep, you’ll meet a nice man and get married.  Well, I hadn’t even placed them yet and I still wound up in a wedding ceremony.  I’m not superstitious, but after my time in Buryatia, I’ll probably be a little bit stitious.
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Sources: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Believers
http://www.uutravel.ru/en/routes/welcome-semeisky-old-believers-ulan-ude-tarbagatai-ulan-ude-bolshoi-kunalei
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_the_Great

Repression: Lost Connections

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Buryatia is a land whose people are deeply connected to its many religions. For someone to come in one day and announce that the government has outlawed all religion within the entire country is cause for buddhists and shamans alike to rebel and fight back. During the Stalinist period, particularly in the time frame of the Great Purges, many religious believers such as shamans and lamas were arrested and fell to illness and eventual death while serving their sentences at brutal labor camps. In the book we are reading for class, The Shaman’s Coat, Anna Reid, the author, notes that up until the creation of the USSR, there were over 700 openly practicing shamans in a part of Buryatia. After the 1930s, the number plummeted to zero.
The degree of oppression the Buryat faced was not something I could particularly understand until I saw a monument in Ulan-Ude to those who suffered during the Purges. Many were practicing shamans or lamas. Buddhists temples, like Russian Orthodox churches, were also destroyed or started serving anti-religious purposes. The Buryat rapidly lost their places of  worship. You can see in the picture below that the monument has many parts. The first thing that catches your attention is the large statue of the mother and her child standing together in garments of the 1930s. Their faces look blank, sad, and soulless. They do not have mouths, symbolizing repression and the loss of essential freedoms. No one was allowed to practice religion, and everyone was too scared to open their mouths and voice their opinions. Barbed wire surrounds the pair giving an prison-like atmosphere to the viewer. The mother and child feel trapped in a vast and beautiful land. Behind them hangs the tablets with the names of those who lost their lives or went missing due to Stalin’s harsh and brutal policies. The monument is titled “За что?”, which translates to “For what?”, as in why did people have to suffer so much?

The mother and child set against a dreary background. Photo Credit: Kaylin Land

The mother and child set against a dreary background.
Photo Credit: Kaylin Land


The monument really conveys the impact of repression on the Buryat. Stalin tried to cut the spiritual bonds that the Buryat had with their land and their religion, and they are still recovering to this day to regain lost years.
For what? List of names of people who suffered under Stalin. Photo credit: Kaylin Land

For what?
List of the names of people who suffered under Stalin are under the sign.
Photo credit: Kaylin Land

Landscapes: Ulan-Ude

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I am sure that most people have a mental image when they picture Siberia–snow, frost, perhaps just the word “cold.” I knew that Siberia would be different than Moscow. What I didn’t know was that it would remind me so much of my hometown. I live in Colorado and I love the mountains, the pine trees, and the open skies that make my state so beautiful. When we first arrived in Ulan-Ude, the capital of Buryatia, I was shocked to find that it looks a lot like Colorado. At every bend in the road it seemed as if I was seeing a little piece of home. Ulan-Ude is located in central Asia, not far from the border of Mongolia. Summers here are hot and winters are very cold. In general, there is little to suggest that the countryside around Ulan-Ude should remind me so much of Colorado, and perhaps it is just homesickness speaking. However, if there is one thing I am learning here in Buryatia, it is that landscapes play a very important, often sacred, role in people’s lives. The landscape here has certainly touched me already.

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Ulan-Ude from above


One of the things that makes Ulan-Ude quite a bit like Colorado is the mountains. Located 2000 feet above sea level at the base of the Khamar-Daban and Khrebet Ulan-Burgasy mountain ranges, the city seems to be embraced by mountains from every side. Another thing that reminds me of home here is the proliferation of pine trees. However, whereas in Colorado pine trees grow side-by-side with aspens, here the ubiquitous березы (birches) can be seen growing all along the roadside. I am curious how much of the landscape is natural and whether or not these trees are native to this part of the country. The air here is much cleaner than in Moscow and in places smells exactly like summers spent outside in Colorado, a mixture of sap, dried pine-needles, and sweet drying grass. I’ve even seen signs by the side of the road warning of forest fire, the exact same signs we have at home, only in Russian. Coming to Siberia has been, in some ways, like coming home.
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My hometown

We Are Mushrooms

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I’m sure you’ve come to find out that Russian is a hard language. It is no secret among the Carleton students. For example, did you know that there are about a hundred and fifty thousand ways to say you are going somewhere? Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but, here, let me lay it out for you.

You can say: Ya hodila v kinoteatr–I went by foot to the movie theater.

Or, if you want to say you went to the movies in a car: Ya ezdila v kinoteatr–I went by car to the movie theater.

But wait! These words imply multi-direction, meaning that I went there and back. What if we want to say that I am going there in one direction, in the continuous tense?

Then you say: Ya idoo v kinoteatr–I am going by foot to the movie theater.

Or: Ya edoo v kinoteatr–I am going by car to the movie theater.

Did you think that was the end of it? Because there are also prefixes you attach to verbs of motion to change the meaning.

If you want to say you entered a theater by foot, you say: Ya voshol v kinoteatr–I am entering the theater by foot.

Or if you want to express that you are arriving at the theater, but not entering it, you say: Ya prikhazhoo v kinoteatr.

You can also say you are going around the theater (obkhozhy), approaching the theater (podkhozhy), going up to the theater (dokhozhy), passing the theater (prokhozhy), or perhaps just dropping by the theater (zakhozhy). And don’t forget about other modes of transportation. These rules apply to flying, swimming, running, crawling, climbing, carrying something. There’s even a word for carrying something heavy. And that’s just the present tense.

Oy. It’s things like these that get me all mixed up when I’m trying to say I took the metro to Red Square last Monday.

I also get my words mixed up. My most recent blunder was when I asked someone if it was rude to decline food at the dinner table (a problem very likely in Russia, as most hosts love to feed their guests). She gave me a blank look when I asked her. I repeated my question and, when I saw that Tell-Tale Squint, I gave up and explained in English. She immediately started laughing. I suddenly realized my mistake. The word for ‘rude’ is groobiy. I had been saying gribiy the whole time, meaning I had asked her if we were being mushrooms at the dinner table.

Once again: oy.

Captain Picard is very disappointed.

Captain Picard is very disappointed.

The Thing About the Trees

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One thing I’ve noticed about Russians since coming here in April is their affinity for painting things. Street curbs, steel fences, and children’s playgrounds are all painted bright colors, lighting up streets and neighborhoods.

A Playground in the US

A Playground in the US


A Playground in Russia

A Playground in Russia


Most interesting of all, however, are the trees.
Trees outside the Dormition Cathedral in Vladimir.

Trees outside the Dormition Cathedral in Vladimir.


Walking through parks, I often found trees with their trunks painted white and wondered for what purpose.This seems to be a common practice, as I’ve seen it in Vladimir, Suzdal, Gagarin, and even in Ulan Ude, a city in the Eastern Siberian region. Was there a superstition I was unaware of? Perhaps the white paint kept life-sucking spirits away?
I finally asked Lera, an MGU student who had spent a year at Carleton, and the answer was actually a lot more boring than I thought. The white paint is actually an insecticide. It prevents bugs from eating away at the bark and damaging the trees.
I suppose this explanation is a lot closer to my guess than I let on, but it just goes to show that sometimes its not all myths and legends in Russia.

A Time for Playing

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I’m pretty sure by this point, people on this program are tired of me using the size of my family as an excuse to horse around.

Just a bunch of adults hanging out at the Kremlin.

Just a few adults hanging out at the Kremlin.


But it’s true, I miss my family sometimes. I have 3 brothers, a sister, a 2-year-old niece, and many younger cousins who are often found running around the house. I’ve gotten used to wrestling away the X-Box remote for another round of Halo, teasing my little brothers about their playground romances, and surprise attacks that end with me buried under a pile of screaming children. It’s really quality family-bonding.
Yesterday, I found myself in quite a similar situation.

The Malishok Children’s Home


The Carleton Moscow program has donated children’s clothes and books to the Malishok Children’s Home since 2005. Our group personally delivered 3 large duffel bags filled with clothes.

Actually, the boys did all the carrying while we nervously awaited the children.


Located in Ulan Ude, Russia, the home cares for 90 children, a majority of which are boys. According to the director, 70% of these children are placed into families, often times back into their own. The reason for this, the director said, was that it was often the parents who had a problem caring for their children. This has slowly been improving, however, as efforts have increased for self-improvement on parents’ behalf.
As soon as the kids saw us, their faces lit up with joy. The director of the home was happy to consent to the use of these photos.

They especially took a liking to Chet.


We were at the home for about an hour and half. During this time, we played with the children, who were more than happy to climb all over their new friends. Within just a few minutes, a little girl in a purple dress grabbed my hand and asked if “she could fly.” I immediately picked  her up and she didn’t leave my side for the rest of the time.
While there, the kids noticed my camera and asked me to take a photographs of them. They were surprised to see themselves on the little screen–“Just like on TV!” Suddenly, they were climbing all over me, asking to have a try.

Little Isa took these lovely photos.


By the end of it all, we said goodbye to our friends. We were exhausted, but very happy to have spent time with them.

Banya Bliss

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After a long and tiring day that ranged from standing in awe of an amazing Buddhist datsan to visiting a children’s home, we took up our host family’s gracious invitation to visit their dacha. Here we had a special opportunity to bathe in a Russian banya, or bath-house. None of us knew exactly what to expect: we have read and seen some depictions of a banya in films and readings for Russian classes. We had this vague idea of running back and forth mostly naked between a sauna and something colder, but it did little to inform us of what the banya would be like.

The Banya

The Banya!


The building is fairly small and wooden. Our host mother explained that larger banyas can have three rooms: a vestibule, a wash room, and a steam room. Ours had just two, the vestibule and steam chamber. After a short banya crash course, we each took turns to dress down to small, but strategically-wrapped towels (which mostly stayed in place, despite the ever present threat of a major “wardrobe malfunction”). Armed with soap, towels, and uncertainty, we finally dared to open the door.
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When we did, heat from the belly of an angry dragon rushed towards us, and each of us felt doubt surge up again. Nonetheless, we forged inside and barred the door behind us. Once the shock of the heat wore off, we began to notice other details around us. The stove glowed merrily and sweating boards gave off a rich, rustic scent. As our bodies warmed by sitting so close to the fire, we discussed what we should do next. One by one, we slowly began to sweat until a prickly feeling prompted us to step outside, ending our ‘baptism’ in the banya.
 
Crossing the threshold again brought a blissfully cool gust into the room, tickling every pore as it passed. We each began to shiver as we drank some water. Stepping outside into the sun has never been so frigid! Using a banya demands one to undergo rapid switches from hot to cold, even running straight into the snow in winter. Even our much less radical change gave us a chill that got us back inside quickly.
 
This time we chucked water down a special little spout in the stove, which produced a billow of steam. Imagine the feeling of a humid blast furnace bursting across your body in a wave of heat from the head down. The air became so thick with humidity that we could feel the water precipitating even as we breathed in. The feeling you probably consider ‘sweating’ disappeared, transcending beyond mere sweat to flowing channels of moisture. As one remarked to another, “I’m not sure whether it’s awesome or disgusting, but a pool of sweat has actually formed in your belly button.”
We wouldn't ACTUALLY take a picture of our belly buttons. Sheesh.

Steamy Selfie! 


After sweating that much, you stop feeling sweaty, and begin to feel clean. At a certain point every impurity of the skin is lifted up and out: the oppressive heat simply makes it all melt away. After the first shock, the body manages to adapt to the new environment, and it feels like you are the shower, your sweat magically becoming cleansing water that sweeps away soap and dirt, leaving an entirely clean feeling behind.
Clean Selfie!

Clean Selfie!