Given the opportunity, we will choose to hang out with the locals and in nearly every instance. The vast majority of the time, it has been a rewarding and interesting experience. However,
on the Trans-Siberian Railway we’ve learned that there are Russian
locals that you don’t necessarily want to “experience” for 2 days on a
train.
Peer pressure is an issue on the
Trans-Siberian train with consistent reminders from other travelers
that this is the “vodka train” and you must drink Russian vodka. This pressure is lost on the Russian locals though as they need no pressure whatsoever to drink on a train. It is a requirement for them and when mixing with foreign travelers the requirement is shared by all.
So we found ourselves in the dining car on the second night of a 48 hour journey from Irkustk to Ekaterineburg.
Between
Slava, the gigantic ex-Russian Army captain with bullet wounds and
Victor, the pudgy Belushi-esque ex-Mafia family man, we had our hands
full. While our English friend Paul was busy being
pressured by Slava into drinking more vodka than he wanted, I got a
dose of vodka with Victor and his fellow Russian friends, who seemed to
be complete blockheads. We drank more, became friends,
toasted to health, arm wrestled and looking back I can say that I have
never witnessed so many scars on so many people. I think these guys have had a hard life.
For
some reason I accepted Victor’s invitation for me and Sachi to come to
his room and drink more vodka. Not only did this end up with me losing
a few hours of memory, but it caused Sachi to end up babysitting
Victor’s Coke-spewing 4 year old child “Sergei” for over an hour. She was not happy and I had no idea why. What
I did remember was Victor telling me at some point in the night that
the wolf tattoo on his arm was from his 3 year prison term. Apparently had “only killed one person” while in the Russian mafia. Had I had my wits about me, I may have escaped at that point, but I didn’t.
The next day I awoke to a hangover, an upset wife and a half-drunk Russian ex-con banging on the door at 9AM with a 2 liter beer in his hand. We were still friends and he was clearly doing me a favor by bring over the beer. He
started with the old Russian saying “A good friend drinks vodka with
you yesterday, a great friend drinks vodka with you today!” as if I
might appreciate the classical nature of the moment. I
would have none of it, despite him barging in, pouring a glass,
spilling it on the floor and insisting I drink no less than 15 times.
Of course Sachi was now noticing that she would now clean up after both
father and son in our compartment. I was at a loss for more ways to say
“nyet” – nothing seemed to work. Sachi would later say that when he
came in she wanted to kick him in the face. Of course, I was implicit in this frustration.
Later Victor hooked back up with the Blockheads and they formed a roaming band of drunk-in-the-morning Russian annoyances. They went from one end of the train to the other, peer-pressuring everyone from the night before to drink with them. One of them even forced his way into the compartment of understandably shaken American and Canadian girls. He would later be quite accurately called a stalker.
This
band of drunks eventually caused the revelers from the night before to
close their doors and hide out for the majority of the morning. Many, including Sachi and I ignored knocks at our doors. The foreigners on the train tried to memorize compartment numbers so we could visit one another without keeping a door open. There was talk of passwords being used. We were held hostage by the locals.
By about 1pm
the drunk Russians had passed out – we could hear Victor snoring
through the compartment walls and from that point the foreigners on the
train began to appear like refugees after a bombing campaign. Shaken,
annoyed and hungover, we stuck together and decided that drinking with
the locals is fun, but sharing 2 days on a train with the same people
is another story all together.
Watch the
Video Here.
