Memories of Marxist Moscow - A collage - Part 2
January 5th 2007 00:06
In 1989, just outside the Moscow International Airport a pod of stranded western travellers are slowly marched forward, two abreast, through the centre of a corridor made by armed Soviet soldiers. The travellers are being loaded onto a military bus because their flight has been cancelled, they don't have visas, and the newly appointed officials don't know what else to do with them.
The dark khaki wool of the soldier’s military coats is visibly heavy in order to block the icy fingers of the Russian winter, which is slowly closing in and swirling around the scene. A coat would be a most welcome addition to any one of the scantily dressed travellers. Ominous grey clouds hang low over the shivering entourage, as a few stray white snowflakes began to cling to inappropriately thin, tropical cotton.
Single file now and trembling uncontrollably, the ‘dissidents’ ascend one by one onto the bus; One Danish anthropologist student travelling the world to see all the Museums. A young Finish married couple returning from a honeymoon in Singapore. Three stand-up Scottish comedian’s on-tour, who are trying to play to the armed military soldiers, with less than their usual responses...boom boom.
Two Germans, and behind them, with his thin, cotton-collar - pulled up high, against the icy blast - a Frenchman and his petite, curvy female companion. Two young British backpackers huddled together for warmth and behind them, frantically taking pictures with her 35mm camera, yours truly - an Australian female, travelling alone and in her mid twenties.
As the new occupants of the bus moan when they realise there is to be no heating on this trip of the damned, their winter-woollies remain cosy in their closely guarded cases, curled up somewhere in the airport terminal bowels.
Dear Diary,
This is a fine way to start this long planned world trip ... I was thrown around an old military bus today in what must have been the shortest trip in history. The bus resembled something from Hogan’s Heroes, whilst the ride itself was like a theme-park thrill ride with no harness.
Outside the palatial airport terminal, a bleak, frozen, brownish-grey rural landscape engulfed the entire vista. It felt like we had entered another world. From outside we could clearly see that the entire building sat amid mud paddocks, large ice-puddles and a complete absence of paved roads. There were no people or buildings, anywhere… like a scene from Logan’s Run.
The whole airport complex looked hastily constructed and lay nestled in a clearing, deep within a hibernating brown forest. It was misplaced and chilling, and made me think of the Auschwitz trains in winter. We were off-loaded with as little ceremony, once again flanked by armed soviet soldiers with rifles.
What was to become of us? Did diplomatic immunity apply here in this place, where outside the dome; time was frozen almost as completely as the scene before us?
I am shivering from more than the cold ...
I walk to the double-glazed doors with my camera in hand, hoping to get a unique shot of swirling snows from the entrance of an austere, 10-storey brick building. The light pressure of a rifle in my ribs, coupled with the warm breath of the young soldier on my cheek, checks my progress and forces me to take a step back.
“Nyet” says this nameless sentinel, pinning me with defiant young eyes, scanning me deeply with cold efficiency and a hint of cheek.
“Relax, I just wanted to see if it had started to really snow yet,” I say wryly, raising my hands and stepping back.
I have grown tired of waiting in the lobby of this tomb. It has been nearly 20 minutes since we were off-loaded from the bus and ushered into this monolithic, grey, ‘Lego-style’ brick building with port-hole-sized windows, sitting motionless, three minutes from the airport terminal. The Scottish comedians have just about finished their entire routine for the third time, and I cannot laugh anymore. I am tired, hungry and disoriented by a lack of sleep and jet-lag. I am dazzed by confusion and uncertainty ... I am anxious and feeling sick ... and I have no idea of the time.
to be continued .../
The dark khaki wool of the soldier’s military coats is visibly heavy in order to block the icy fingers of the Russian winter, which is slowly closing in and swirling around the scene. A coat would be a most welcome addition to any one of the scantily dressed travellers. Ominous grey clouds hang low over the shivering entourage, as a few stray white snowflakes began to cling to inappropriately thin, tropical cotton.
Single file now and trembling uncontrollably, the ‘dissidents’ ascend one by one onto the bus; One Danish anthropologist student travelling the world to see all the Museums. A young Finish married couple returning from a honeymoon in Singapore. Three stand-up Scottish comedian’s on-tour, who are trying to play to the armed military soldiers, with less than their usual responses...boom boom.
Two Germans, and behind them, with his thin, cotton-collar - pulled up high, against the icy blast - a Frenchman and his petite, curvy female companion. Two young British backpackers huddled together for warmth and behind them, frantically taking pictures with her 35mm camera, yours truly - an Australian female, travelling alone and in her mid twenties.
As the new occupants of the bus moan when they realise there is to be no heating on this trip of the damned, their winter-woollies remain cosy in their closely guarded cases, curled up somewhere in the airport terminal bowels.
<<>>
Dear Diary,
This is a fine way to start this long planned world trip ... I was thrown around an old military bus today in what must have been the shortest trip in history. The bus resembled something from Hogan’s Heroes, whilst the ride itself was like a theme-park thrill ride with no harness.
Outside the palatial airport terminal, a bleak, frozen, brownish-grey rural landscape engulfed the entire vista. It felt like we had entered another world. From outside we could clearly see that the entire building sat amid mud paddocks, large ice-puddles and a complete absence of paved roads. There were no people or buildings, anywhere… like a scene from Logan’s Run.
The whole airport complex looked hastily constructed and lay nestled in a clearing, deep within a hibernating brown forest. It was misplaced and chilling, and made me think of the Auschwitz trains in winter. We were off-loaded with as little ceremony, once again flanked by armed soviet soldiers with rifles.
What was to become of us? Did diplomatic immunity apply here in this place, where outside the dome; time was frozen almost as completely as the scene before us?
I am shivering from more than the cold ...
<<>>
I walk to the double-glazed doors with my camera in hand, hoping to get a unique shot of swirling snows from the entrance of an austere, 10-storey brick building. The light pressure of a rifle in my ribs, coupled with the warm breath of the young soldier on my cheek, checks my progress and forces me to take a step back.
“Nyet” says this nameless sentinel, pinning me with defiant young eyes, scanning me deeply with cold efficiency and a hint of cheek.
“Relax, I just wanted to see if it had started to really snow yet,” I say wryly, raising my hands and stepping back.
I have grown tired of waiting in the lobby of this tomb. It has been nearly 20 minutes since we were off-loaded from the bus and ushered into this monolithic, grey, ‘Lego-style’ brick building with port-hole-sized windows, sitting motionless, three minutes from the airport terminal. The Scottish comedians have just about finished their entire routine for the third time, and I cannot laugh anymore. I am tired, hungry and disoriented by a lack of sleep and jet-lag. I am dazzed by confusion and uncertainty ... I am anxious and feeling sick ... and I have no idea of the time.
<<>>
The Lego-brick 'Hotel'
to be continued .../
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Comment by katyzzz
Photography Tips
Health Focus
Poetry Lighthouse
MS Paint Art
Lilla, my love, you are great, and so brave, such a warrior or should I have said worrier,
katyzzz...........catching up, maybe!
Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
..*blushing a bit*
... probably a bit of both ... a somewhat contradictory mix I'm told...
Lilla
Comment by Marisa
New Spirit New Energy
Aint it great how sometimes the stuff that goes "wrong" while travelling makes the best stories.
Much better than "got to the airport, caught a plane"...lol
PS I hope you get out of the lego hotel alive!!
Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
Yes they do and I seem to have had so many *lol* .. I remember thinking at the time ... I wonder if I ever will... I won't make you wait forever though to find out, hopefully [if there are no major delays] I will post part 3 tomorrow morning...
thank you for commenting...
Lilla
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Ash
Comment by Adrian
Philosophy Blog
Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
After reading your travel adventures, I think traveling with you would be fun! You never know? After all the kids have grown up, I'm planning a grannies return-excursion to an Ashram I went to, half-way up the Himalayas once, *lol* never say never...
Glad you're enjoying it...
Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
No I wasn't allowed near the door, none of us were. I don't know what would make them think I would try to escape the Leggo Hoitel to dissapear into the streets of starving Moscow... yeah, right buddy!
Me?
Dissident westerner
The Guard?
Bainwashed militant
The doorway?
A point of exchange for the two paradigms?
No, I couldn't [is the short answer], even when I raised my camera to show him what I was doing, he shook his head violently and raised his gun - not pointing at me - but across his chest; making a show of it, I guess.
Point taken, I raised my arms and stepped back.
One of the Scottish comedians burst forth with a funny comment to the effect of me trying to escape to the snowstorm, which cracked us all up and releived the tension a bit. I found a corner in the lobby and sat back waiting for someone, or something to come and move the day on...
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
your trip with the grannies up the Himalayas sounds exciting - just as well you in the right region of the world for plenty of tea
Waiting in anticipation for Part 3......
Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
Have the housework and chores this morning and a few errands and hopefully by mid afternoon I'll have time, all being equal...
cheers
Lilla