Visitors from Outside

Well, this past week in Kyzyl was very, very busy because my Friends and Fellow Fulbrighters (FFFs) from Krasnoyarsk, Novosibirsk, and Tomsk came to town for a visit. We had a pretty incredible time, and the company was a great excuse to organize several forays into the countryside with lots of wonderful interaction with baby animals (it is spring here).

First of all, the FFFs got here on the 8th of May, the day before one of Russia's biggest (modern) holidays, May 9th-Victory Day. Now, I could go on for a while explaining about victory day, but the short story is that Russia has kept memories of WWII vividly alive and to the forefront of public consciousness. In many senses this is a wonderful and important decision; but Westerners are quick to point out that the narrative of the war as it appears in Russian media is much different from the narrative of the war presented in other parts of the world. In Russia the war is called the "Great Patriotic War" and was mainly a war between Russian and German forces. The holocaust and the Pacific front play only a minor (if they playany) role in this narrative. The Great Patriotic War is of primary importance in the national myth of Russia, used to embody Russia at its finest (and most victorious) and so plenty of government money and support flows into the celebration of the holiday. In Kyzyl we had a parade, a concert, a giant wrestling tournament, a super-disco, and a fireworks display.

Anyways, the FFFs were here, so we spent the May 9th holiday walking around the city together. One of the strange things about Soviet architecture and city planning is that cities are in the form of an insular grid; hence on any given day you can run into a multitude of acquaintances on the street. On the holiday pretty much the whole city and many people from the regions were walking this loopy grid we call Kyzyl, and so we ran into many familiar people. The parade was unfortunately organized to kind of loop around in a circle on the central square and there wasn't any room for people to watch... so we mostly stood in a crowd and stared at the backs of peoples' heads. The wrestling also had no seats. Fortunately, there were plenty of cool people to walk around the city with. I even learned a few things about Kyzyl that day; saw places I hadn't been to before and heard new stories.

The wrestling was also too crowded, so we went and got coffee. Later in the day we met up with some students and cooked them Siberian burritos, which were pretty tasty then the students took us to a bar, which was really neat, and on the way we saw fireworks exploding for the salute. The bar was pretty good; beer and dancing, good holiday relaxation.

The next day was also a holiday, and the students had offered to arrange a trip out to a village to show the FFFs the traditional lifestyle. I had been trying for several weeks to figure out how to make this work, and I was very happy last week when some of the students came up to me and offered to help arrange things. We paid for transport and they arranged with the shepherds, the villagers, and even brought a band of professional throat singers. All in all, it was a pretty amazing undertaking, and a testament to the potential people have when they all work together to make something happen.

We left in the bus at 11am on Monday, and drove 100 km to the village of Syryg-sep, a village where actually mostly elderly Russians live. The village has about 700 people and is located on the Kaa-xem river, one of the branches that flow together in Kyzyl to make the river Yenisei. We rented an entire huge bus, and filled it with students, musicians, and Americans (and one Nigerian, a new student to our university)... it was pretty much the perfect recipe for a good time.

Reaching the countryside, we had the chance to walk around deserted and destroyed kolhozes (Soviet collective farms). I have long had an affection for these skeletons of buildings that dot the Siberian landscape, and never before this had I gotten the opportunity to walk around inside of one. I guess the buildings are just typical abandoned buildings--whenever Russians or Tuvans talk about them, they just say "razrushenie" or "destroyed" buildings. But I find them like monuments, like memories of history preserved in the still-standing walls. I wonder how they were destroyed, and when. Did people burn them? (the pure white walls suggest they did not). Did they just knock the roofs off? I guess the process of perestroika, the rebuilding of Russia as a post-communist nation is an endlessly fascinating one. And these buildings are reminders of the fact that perestroika touched the whole country--even the smallest villages were affected.

Then we had to push our bus up a hill. Recent rains had made the road muddy and even though our driver was one of the most skilled drivers I have seen (driving is a performance art in Russia) he needed us to get out an push a bunch. There were some hairy moments when it seemed the bus might tip. A fellow with a guitar was accompanying all the swaying and heaving with appropriate music, and everybody was bemused and gleeful. Finally we decided to leave the bus halfway up the mountain and continue on foot.

We walked across the steppe for a while before coming to a small hut and enclosure of sheep. We met the five young shepherds who live there--all school boys. We met the week-old lambs and puppies and locals who came out of curiosity to inspect us. The womenfolk worked together to prepare tea and lepyoshki (a tuvan fry bread made from the traditional flour, dalgan, ground from grains that grow wild in the steppe). Everybody had tea and got to know each other, then killing a goat in the traditional way began. The Mongol horde technique of inserting a hand into the chest of the living sheep and pinching a (nerve? blood vessel? a something...) near the heart/spine was performed by the brother of one of my students, a gregarious guy who was still totally drunk from the previous day's celebration. Everybody gathered to watch the goat die and then the traditional, elaborate, and remarkably clean process by which every single part of the goat is turned into food. It was a beautiful thing to see, and I think the FFFs really enjoyed it.

We also rode horses, played with baby goats and sheep, and the throat singing band that came with us gave a beautiful concert. Generally spirits were high. It was a really good time... The students hosts had hoped that the locals would eventually get bored and leave, but that didn't happen, not least of all because Emmanuel, the new Nigerian student at the university is the first Black person most people in Tuva have ever seen. But it was pleasant talking with everybody. Eventually we bid farewell, trooped back to the bus and sang songs and passed around a jug of beer on the bus all the way back to Kyzyl.

The next day we had seminars with students and took care of our documents with the migration service.

The day after that we had a conference about exchange programs and how Tuvan students can apply to study in the US and the FFFs went to the national museum while I took a shower and spent some time with my host family.

Then on Thursday it was my birthday and we headed out again on a trip to a regional school. We visited classes, taught example lessons, rode horses, and got to meet many adorable baby sheep. Then we went back to the university for a large English club meeting about the topic of music. Then my boss took us to a restaurant and we had pelmeni and beer and colleagues and vodka, and that was how I celebrated my birthday. I didn't drink much vodka. I have spent too much time in Russia. I am totally over vodka. But I had a nice white beer, and now I am 23, so that is cool.

The next day at noon the FFFs departed and I was again left alone in the city. It was so great to see my colleagues and experience the place and people through their eyes. Anyways. It was an unforgettable week...

That's all for now from Tuva! All the best,
Riley