Thursday, 20 May 2010
Ulan Ude, Buryat Republic, Russia
Having enjoyed watching a military youth parade in the main square with the world’s largest head (25ft tall) of Lenin overlooking proceedings, depart Ulan Ude for the ‘Old Believers’ village at Tarbagatay. A place where the ‘Old Believers’ set up a standalone village in the 19th century as opposed to the ‘New Believers’. ‘Old Believers’ stood by their traditional religious convictions. As they’re in the middle of nowhere in Eastern Siberia, to alleviate the long, cold and dark winters the ‘Old Believers’ dress in bright colourful clothes and paint their houses bright colours. The village is made up of brightly painted wooden buildings and invited by two local women into their home to show us around. Along with the main house which we’re not unfortunately allowed to enter, there’s the garage, small kennel complete with sleeping dog, pig sty, outside toilet of the long drop variety, garden well and banya (sauna). And the winter house. This is much smaller than the main house as it’s easier to heat. The ‘bathroom’ is outside and attached to the house’s wall is a small sink, mirror, soap tray and toothbrush holder made out of an old baked bean tin.
In need of a pee ask if I can use the loo. Wish I hadn’t. Told I can use their outdoor toilet. It’s a long drop and the ‘seat’ is a black cloth draped over some car tyres. There’s fresh excrement caked around the inside of the seat and a pile of it below forming a mound on top of old excrement. So. So. Disgusting. Thought I’d seen the worst toilets in Ethiopia. Nope. It’s here.
Quite cold and spitting with rain as we’re given a tour of the church by the Old Believer priest which goes on and on. It’s as though this is his one big chance to tell us the complete history of religion. Opposite the church is the Folk Museum. The usual country bric-a-brac. Farm tools, glasses, pots and pans etc. Seen it all before. It’s the same stuff you’d find anywhere else in the world in a similar museum. It does however have a toilet. A brand new chemical toilet. The sort you would have in your caravan. Sitting on the dirt floor of the garage of the museum next to the owner’s car. There’s no light in the garage. If you shut the door you can’t see what you’re doing or where you’re aiming. Consequence of which. You have to keep the door open to let the daylight in. General agreement amongst the group that we’ll whistle as we do our stuff so as not to be walked in on.
Lunch is provided by the Old Believers in what can best be described as the village hall. Well, it’s the back room of the folk museum. Very small and cramped and all are sat at tables very close together. Bottles of wine, beer, vodka (obviously) and water are grouped along the centre of the tables. So a group of bottles for say half a dozen people.
For some reason, our bottle of vodka is drunk very quickly. These little old ladies I’m travelling with do like a lunchtime tipple. That’s all I’m saying.
For some reason, the noise level increases in the room exponentially. There’s a lot of vodka being drunk. It being cold and wet outside and in need of something warming.
There’s a great and noisy atmosphere as we enjoy a typical Old Believer lunch of soup, stew, fish, bread, potatoes and quite possibly the best and freshest doughnuts.
We’re now to be treated to a small concert of the Old Believers singing traditional folk songs.
Little do I know that I am to feature in this little ‘concert’.
The singing of the Old Believers’ traditional marriage ceremony.
They pick the youngest female of our group for the bride. A good looking, Swiss, 50 something, blonde girl but who could pass for someone 10 years younger (she already being married to a wealthy, Swiss, 70 something gent).
She has to go through the rigmarole of being dressed by the Old Believers in various traditional clothes. Twelve layers traditionally.
How we all laugh.
How I chuckle to myself thinking glad I’m not involved.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho.
Once they’re done dressing her to raucous laughter from what is now a fairly merry group drunk on vodka the Old Believers sing a traditional song and explain that tradition dictates that it’s an arranged marriage and she has no say in her groom.
Oh how we laugh.
Still chuckling to myself thinking glad I’m not involved.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho.
Again.
We’re all enjoying it as the vodka is flowing rather well.
Bride now has a headscarf on. Looks like Nora Batty.
Oh how we laugh.
I soon stop laughing when the local guide (a young girl with a not so fashionable mullet hairstyle) drags me out of my seat with the words, “Come with me!”.
I know what’s coming.
So does everyone else.
You could possibly have heard the vodka driven raucous cheering and laughter in England, dear reader.
As I exit the room, double back and grab a random bottle of vodka off a table in a ‘I’ll be needing this’ sort of way. More loud laughter.
Taken to a side room to be dressed by the male Old Believers. In their traditional costume. Unfortunately. Most Old Believers are not 6’5” and quite broad. And I struggle to fit in the top. The waist band barely fits. They’re all laughing ‘backstage’ at my predicament. Admittedly so am I. Having had the odd glass of vodka. Ahem.
And then.
It’s my time.
To make an appearance for my bride to be.
As her new husband to be.
Well, dear reader. The noise level of raucous laughter as I re-enter the room is quite startling. And no wonder.
So. There I am. All 6’5” of me in a red top. Sleeves halfway up my arm.
Told to bow to the ‘guests’ and then take my seat next to my bride. Mrs Old Believer woman who had shown us around her house earlier is Master of Ceremonies and explains that the bride has to cry during the ‘Crying Song’. Miss Swiss has to cry into her dress as they sing but I grab a corner of her dress and jokingly pretend to blow my nose. More raucous laughter. And am clipped around the ear by Mrs Old Believer. Even more laughter.
After the ‘Crying Song’ is the ‘Swearing Song’ when the bride’s family ‘swear’ at the groom and only stop when the groom’s family has thrown enough money into the bride’s mother’s apron. For bride’s mother read Mrs Old Believer. A big old girl. You wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley. Let’s put it like that.
Mrs Old Believer goes around the room holding her apron out to collect money. A $1 note goes in and am later told, as I didn’t see it, that someone threw in a $20 note which Mrs Old Believer quickly snaffled and secreted in her bra.
The collected money is put on the bride’s knee. When Mrs Old Believer’s back is turned I jokingly snaffle the $1 note and make pretend to put in my pocket. Cue more drunken laughter.
Another song is sung as I’m instructed to put my knees together, hands on knees, and head down over my hands. And told not to look up.
Singing starts. And I promptly look up. My head is promptly pushed down by Mrs Old Believer to much laughter. A while later I look up again. The same thing happens but this time it’s my bride to be doing it unbeknownst to me which creates more laughter.
And then, dear reader.
That final song denotes that I am now married!
To a Swiss girl of my acquaintance.
According to Old Believer tradition in the Buryat Republic.
At the end of the proceedings I shout out, “Would you like her as a mother-in-law?” and everyone falls about laughing. It’s quickly translated and Mrs Old Believer quickly retorts with, “That’s what my son-in-law says!”
What an absolute laugh it’s been. Everyone has been laughing non stop the past half hour. What a hoot. There’s not much vodka left, dear reader.
We have all been enjoying ourselves way too much. So much so that we are now seriously late for the train. Bus driver is racing back to the station, about an hour’s drive away. An hour that most of my fellow travellers spend sleeping off the vodka. It’s a very quiet bus journey.
Have literally minutes to spare as we arrive at Ulan Ude railway station. Our Golden Eagle Trans-Siberian Express is attached to the back of the native Trans-Siberian train. Which is on a strict timetable. The train set is 22 carriages long and we’re right at the back about 100m down the platform. We’re all helping the older members get on board. LC is literally pushing Signal John up the carriage steps with her shoulders on his bum to get him on board. Such is the hurry. As we’re now holding the train up. Later discover that our Train Manager/Guide had a right old go at the local guides for bringing us back so late but they explained that it was so much fun at lunch. Yes. It was.
Depart Ulan Ude at 1500hrs and now have two full days on board to Vladivostok.
Enjoy dinner with one of the blokes I’ve gotten to know. Love people’s backstories and personal history. Transpires that he started out working as typesetter and then became the chairman of a pharmaceutical company he helped set up with his pharmacist daughter. They sold the company last year for £27 million. Bloody hell. You would never have known. Such an unassuming and nice guy.
Well, dear reader, it’s been a really fun day.
Little did I know at breakfast that I would be married today.
This is what memories are made of.
