26-7-2000
Here i am again sitting under the statue of Lenin, pigeon shit is running from his cheek over his chin. To avoid any confusion, they have written his name underneath, 9000km from Moscow. I am in the shade, it is hot here, more south than Belgium, only Siberia in name. The sea is everywhere between the hills, a nice change after the rain and flatness of the Trans-Siberian. It is a Russian city, no Sovietized Mongolians here like around the Baikal Lake, only masses of noisy Chinese tourists who all want to be on the picture with Lenin - and colourful karaoke bars. Also no Lada cars, instead 2nd hand Japanese import with the steering wheel on the right, even the police drives those. I am looking for a haircut and ask in a pharmacy whereabout in sign language, the babushka shows me her wide offer of Easteuropean condoms..
Back to Siberia; hot springs, deserted villages of railway worker families who noticed there is no job nor life after the railway construction was finished, bigger towns with old wooden houses next to Soviet apartment blocks, and of course a factory - in order to produce a loyal working class among the Siberians. Geographical superlatives for the Baikal Lake, the Mongolian population who try to remember their Buddhism now it is allowed again, people on the road everywhere, days of train traveling to family, work, university. Loads of kamikaze mosquitos prevented me to get to gulag work camps, restaurants where the Christmas decoration is never removed and always the same ruski pop too loud. There i see two Mormons again ! Tomorrow my boat leaves for Japan, last proletarian greetings

Go East

Tom Tobback © 2000