Nikolai is from Kerch (on the Crimean Peninsula in southern Ukraine). His wife of 30 years lives there year-round and Nikolai lives there about six months per year. Every other month he travels to Tumen, in Siberia, to work on an oil rig. His decades of working in the “North” as an excavator have taken a toll on him.
In all honesty, Nikolai’s rough and tough appearance made me a bit nervous when I first met him (on one of the longer train rides of my time here). He was already settled in his bunk across from my own when I boarded in Makeevka at 2:30 a.m. I was beginning my 31-hour journey; across the Russian border to the city of Sizran (about 700 miles south of Moscow). It was my first trip to Russia and I was excited to make the trip after spending a significant amount of time and energy (with the assistance of a Ukrainian friend) jumping through all the hoops to get my invitation letter and visa.
As he had done many times before, Nikolai was traveling from his home in Kerch to Ufa (50+ hours by train), then flying another 2-3 hours to Tumen. To make that round trip monthly is something I can hardly imagine. He, however, seemed prepared. He and I were alone in our six-person compartment for most of my trip, but his wife had sent enough fried fish, turkey, hard-boiled eggs, and radishes to feed a small army. The two of us barely made a dent and it was unfortunate that, due to luggage restrictions, he had to dispose of the leftovers before boarding his plane in Ufa.
Nikolai assumed the responsibility of watching the dumb foreigner. As mentioned above, he graciously shared his food with me (which was far more substantial than the few bags of chips and the bottle of water that I had brought). He pointed out several of the major attractions along the way, the main one being a huge Soviet statue (with a scary-looking sword) in Volgograd; to commemorate the spot where the tide changed in WWII and the Soviets began to chase the Nazis out. He also helped me at the border, the part of the trip that I was a most nervous about (and I’m sure it showed). He explained where we were, how long we would be there, who would check my documents and, most importantly, made small talk with the border agents just made the atmosphere a little more calm.
When we arrived at Sizran, even though he wasn’t getting off there himself, he pointed out that there were two stations there and I may need to travel to the other one in order to continue my journey. He would remain on the train another 16 hours. We said our good-byes and well wishes and parted. I never would have guessed, when boarding the train, that this guy would have such a hospitable spirit. I hope that it is neighbors like this and not the ones who want me to drink a whole bottle of vodka with them (to understand the “Russian soul,” they say) that I remember from my many trips on the train.
Dave
