Moscow Orientation – Day 14 – regional trip

On arrival at the Cheboksary train station we were met by a delegation of high-ranking aides to various governmental figures. We met two women who would be our handlers throughout our visit. It was all very nice, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit self conscious of my appearance after the long train trip.

After a brief stop at the hotel, we toured the city; a tidy place perched on the edge of the Volga River. We went to the 10th annual Festival of Languages at a local institute where, it turns out, we were honored guests. They ushered us directly onto the stage of a packed auditorium and asked us to say a few words. That was a surprise. We shuffled our feet a bit and looked at each other for a moment; for an instant, I swear I heard crickets chirping. Then, Jim stepped up to the microphone and into the breach.
“I hear you have an English club here, so I’ll say this in English…”
Brilliant!

As it turns out, the school is renowned as a center of Esperanto. Such is the state of Esperanto, I guess, that a world renowned center of it is located 700 kilometers past Moscow. I suppose its like one of those Eskimo languages that survives thanks to its isolation and weird adaptation to a unique environment. Of course, globally, more people probably speak Klingon than Esperanto.

Then we headed off to Novocheboksarsk, a recent suburb of the city. We pulled up to the town hall and there were several high-ranking officials and a group of reporters and TV crews waiting for us. Another big surprise. A quick greeting and we headed off to the war memorial to lay flowers. Our host, the head of the regional administration, gave a speech about US-Russian relations. Well said, and then off to the adjacent Afghan war memorial.

Things got a little odd at this next memorial. There, he equated the Soviet intervention in Afghanistan with the war on terror and Chechnya and noted how both the US and Russia are engaged in the same battle. His speech was so replete with the long-dead propaganda phraseology of the Soviet Union that later we asked if he had seen “Ninth Company”, the hit movie about that era. He hadn’t. The phrases and the lumping of different conflicts under the heading of terror was all his idea.

We had a police escort to lunch, us in a minivan and our hosts in a shiny Mercedes, and our handlers in a white Volga sedan. Lunch was a feast with the Mayor, Minister of Justice for the Republic, and the head of the administration. We had an interesting conversation about the most recent elections in their region.

Next, we rocketed out into the countryside for a visit to a museum honoring a local cosmonaut. First, though, we laid flowers on his tomb in a chapel. When you put flowers on a grave in Russia it has to be an even number, but any number for a regular monument. No one, however, could explain why. We went through the little museum and then toured the small, wooden hut where he was born in the 1920’s. This fellow went from a one-room cabin to being the 4th man in space. No wonder he’s such a local hero.

Nonetheless, I couldn’t help reflecting on his ultimate situation. He left a small cabin, had an amazing life, launched into space twice, and still – he’s buried only a few feet away where it all began. Maybe you can go home again.

Next we raced off to the riverside to catch a tour boat cruise on the Volga. When we got cold on the open deck, we went inside and discovered the huge dining table covered with food. Another huge meal, and this one had lots of vodka. Lots. The MC, or tamada, organized the toasting and singing. I gave a toast that said something to the effect that I was so happy to find such wonderful people in a place I’d never heard of. There was, as I may have mentioned, quite a good deal of vodka present. Anyway, at the end of the toast I quoted Yuri Gagarin – the first cosmonaut – and that was a big hit.