I Can See Russia From My Train Car (Day 3 on the TSR)

Last night, a man, sick from too much vodka, ran to the bathroom to vomit... he didn't quite make it in time. Luckily, his spit up vodka found a landing place away from our cabin. We shared a laugh with the jiggling woman as the provodnitsa forced him to clean it up. He was too drunk to stand and clean, so a friend helped him keep his balance. The drunkard then stripped to his skivvies and got in bed - snoring the night away.

We celebrated our first week of the trip and first full day on the train with a shot of the strongest vodka ever - quite literally smelled and tasted like rubbing alcohol.

Shortly thereafter, we were joined by a very rude elderly Russian lady, who was gone by morning.

Today we woke up to the most delicious meat and onion filled pastries that 35 rubles (a little over a dollar) could buy. An hour later, the after taste has left me yearning for more.

The sights passing our window are the most stunning to date. We've zoomed through hills, valleys, plains, birch forests, and marshes. The wide array and vastness of the landscapes make me feel miniscule - dust in the wind of life.

Moving through this geographic giant, I understand why so many people are intrigued by the Trans-Siberian Railway, and Russia in general. I could easily see why Russians have such a strong sense of national pride. The train ride has instilled in me an even greater desire to backpack through the US - something I hope to do next summer. There is a world of culture, but I often overlook my backyard. Thanks to Damian for reminding me of this.

Two Tajik men heading to Baikal struck up a conversation with Karen, and I joined. Apparently I look like a guy from Prison Break, Celine Dion is popular among Central Asian men, and an apartment in the centre of the capital of Tajikstan is $100/month.

I managed to get my phone working very briefly, after trying for the last several of days. I tried Damian, thinking he might still be up at 2:45 AM back home, and didn't bother to phone the 'rents - they were probably long asleep. After one quick voicemail message, my phone's service bid me adieu, only to say hi just long enough on occassion to tease me.

In Omsk, a woman named Aksana and her neice Dasha joined us. They're very sweet. They are going further than us (to Chita) and have about three days on the train.

After forty-eight hours and two minutes on this train, I'm surprisingly not bored to tears. Talking, writing, thinking, music, eating, watching the world pass by, Polish gin rummi, and more thinking have kept me busy. We're a little more than half way through though, hurrah!
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It turns out that Aksana is awesome. She's hilarious and super nice. Across from us is another sweet woman, with a surprisingly well behaved baby (knock on wood). Aksana's neice took a special interest to the "sex" page of our Russian phrasebook and read the phrases aloud for the train......awwwwwwkkkkkkwwwward!

All we've done today is sit and eat. Pirog s myasam, those 35 ruble doughy-meaty-oniony balls of pure goodness, managed to make their rounds once more (this would not be the last of our new favorite Russian food).

After lots of gin rummi, talking to Aksana, and chowing down, it's time for bed. A beer did just the trick to get me sleepy and I'm ready for my upper level compact compartment and lumpy pillow. While I'm by no means a heavy drinker, I'm going to miss being able to have a drink here and there back home. Twenty-one is a ridiculous age requirement, but I only have six more months.
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As it turns out, that sleepy slumbery mood I was in turned into a contemplative evening...

PS - Next summer: you, me, and America.