What do you do when you miss the train...

... and when your stuff are in it? I hope you do realise we are talking about the Trans-Siberian train, at a time of the year (end of September - but I'm pretty sure I mentioned it last time, aren't you listening?) when nights in Siberia hit the minus 10 degree line, in a country where English isn't really fluently spoken (+10 points to the one who can tell me the name of this figure of speech). 

Well, relax already. Read this tutorial and if you are dumb enough to find yourself in this shitty situation, you'll know what to do. Because, Ladies and Gentlemen, my devotion to deliver high quality information to my 12,5 readers made us put in and endure this terrible situation. Wait, who I am fooling? We all know we dived into this crap with a complete lack of straight-thinking, and be sure I wasn't thinking about you suckers. 

Anyway. We were on the train since 2,5 days from Vladivostok and were supposed to hit Irkutsk at 1:30am the following night. It was 4 or 5pm and we were bored: no vodka left, no books to read and we couldn't talk with the people anyway. We were running out of food so we had the once brilliant then regretted idea to took advantage of the next long train stop to go out and run some errands. Now this is where the universe tricked us: usually, there is a small supermarket within 5 minutes of the station. But not in Ulan-Ude: you have to walk a bit more. But do you think we knew that? Do you think English-speaking people could have told us that? Do you think the universe didn't want us robbed out and left dying in a pit?  

So we went off the train and our few train friends told us in a weird Russglish that we only had 25 minutes. We laughed and said 'of course! what do you think? we're mzungus / gringos / gaijin / foreigners but not stupid!' and then we looked at each other and were like 'ahah, it would be funny if we missed the train!' 'no, it won't happen. we're not that stupid, aha!!' (As it turned out later, we were). 

Before leaving the train I hesitated one second, then decided to take my handbag with me. Like I said last time, you don't need to be extra-parano on the train - but a lightning of lucidity struck me for a few seconds, and as a great clairvoyant I could almost picture the disaster that was building up in front of our close future. Almost. So I took my stuff with me.

So we got out. Lucas wearing flip-flops, me going German-style - Birkenstocks with socks. We were so confident in our brightness and luck that... we didn't even check what time it was - and we wouldn't know at what time we had to be back. But we're not that stupid, remember? We started walking around, taking some pictures here and there (as if we mongos had time to do sightseeing), and at some point, realised we should get food. So asked some people where the closest shop ist (read: we went up to locals and said in our fakest accent: superrmarkiet? gdié?), and some guy took us to a small place where we bought bread and some stuff that looked like cheese. Mind you, we could have bought the bread at the station, and we could have survived without cheese, but hey, only Frenchies who've lived 5 months in freaking lactosefree Japan can understand me. 
So we had been all the way to get damn food that we didn't need that much, not knowing the time and lacking the necessary skills to estimate lengths or durations.  We did start running at some point...

But the platform was empty. No train. The sky was blue, the sunlight upon Ulan-Ude was fading away and we were screwed... At least, we had bread and cheese with us.
So what do you think that we did? Start insulting each other, blaming God or praising Satan? None of those! As the wise and not that stupid adults that we are, we kept our so-called dignity and tried to explain the situation to the employee that seemed less creepy / most susceptible of reacting positively to our emotion display. A very difficult task if performed in a foreign language, if you want my advice. Actually you don't even need to talk: you can just show your ticket and look stupid. 

Luck was somehow on our side. In our loser-attitude we managed to pick the best city to miss a train: Ulan-Ude is ONLY 500 km / 7 hours by car away from Irkutsk, and there are buses leaving every 30 minutes or so. See? We could have screwed up more. Mind you, we could have hopped in a cab to the next train station, but may I remind you smartasses that nobody speaks English there? Besides, we didn't know the name of the next station. So back off. 

So the relatively nice employee (according to Russian standards, she would be categorised as über-polite) took us to the parking lot in front of the station, where some cabs and minibuses were waiting, some with signs saying 'Irkutsk', where we were heading. We were saved! I thought. Ahaha. At that time I didn't know we would be having a timing problem.. So we paid the equivalent of 25€ (and we did try to make the train lady pay for us, as if  the train company was responsible, but it didn't work) and got in the minbus.  

And when it left, 20 minutes later, we tried to ask at what time we would reach Irkutsk. Because yeah, we had to be there to gather our stuff, put everything in our bags, then leave the train - as Irkutsk was our last stop (while the train was going all the way to Moscow). We knew the train would be stopping from 1:30 to 2:10 am. And then the guy told us we would be there at 2:00 am. Oops. So basically we would only have 10 minutes to rush to the platform, and throw our stuff in bags before being kicked out of the train. That is, if no drunk driver, pothole on the road or tired of life deer decide to mess with us. This is Russia, remember?

There was nothing to do but wait. And laugh about the situation. And wet our pants. We had bread and cheese, but no water. And the night was falling so we couldn't even see the landscapes. But somehow, we knew we would make it - because we're not that stupid!

But this story ends well: the driver kindly took stupid risks and proudly demonstrated his ability to  overtake cars in curves, going up, at night - so that we would arrive in time. And we did: we even arrived before the train. To this day I still don't know how it was physically possible. We saw the train approach and saw the happy face of our provodnik, who was waving at us and calling us 'crazy! crazy!' in an almost-perfect English. He was a good man. We will never know what happened on this train while we were away; but on the platform, a lot of passengers went down to greet us. Perhaps they were all stressed out that we had died, that we got lost; perhaps they were so bored that the thought of us occupied them a bit (perhaps they all had bet on our survival and only the ones who won went down to celebrate).

Anyway, our brave provodnik had stuffed our belongings in our bags and put them aside, perhaps in the hopes of selling them later on the black market - or perhaps the poor lad did that to prevent evil passengers from spliting our stuff among them. We'll never know.

What I know now, is that he gave us a letter in Russian with his email address, that he probably wrote after we didn't show up; and now we're friends on FB. So no, not all Russian males are violent impolite assholes. Kindness and openminded-ness are found everywhere, even if you don't speak the language! 
Wow, this might be the first (and hopefully last) positive post I'll ever write. For the first time, I didn't end up complaining about how bad life and people are! (ok ok, actually Poutvedev wrote me a big check if I could say something nice about the Russkies - don't worry, in the next message I'll be trashing on them like hell)

Organising (and ruining) your Trans-Siberian train experience

Hey loves!

Now is the time for you to learn more about taking the Trans-Siberian train. Yes, yes, it's a life changing experience and I'm so lucky to have done it - what ever. Spare me your boring comments and let me handle the talking, will you? 

So, basically I took it from Vladivostok to Irkutsk, spend one day at the Baikal lake, then from Irkutsk to Moscow. Wait, I'm not starting properly. There are many other routes: the mainstream people will take the Trans-Mongolian route, from Beijing to Moscow through Ulan-Bator; the weirdos will take the Trans-Mandchourian route (same same but different: just not going through Mongolia) and the real travellers, fearless, dary (and too cheap to get visas for both China and Mongolia) will board the Trans-Siberian train in Vladivostok. And there are some others routes within the Trans-Siberian route. What's not to follow? 

Here's a map to stay focused (for the mentally challenged people in the audience): 

Courtesy of yourmother.com 

I knew I would take the train and not the plane back home - yes, excuse me if I have a soul - but was a bit reluctant to the idea of spending one week alone reading books and pretenting I'm having a good time. 

So I spammed my good friend Lucas from Berlin and he was in! I was so relieved to realise I wouldn't have to endure the terrible burden of small talk with my 2nd and 3rd personalities.

What can I say about that whole trip? Of course it was awesome. But this statement, though as true and accurate as hell, won't provide you with the information you might need, so I'll be more specific and answer your questions. 

How did you plan the whole trip? 

It was kind of easy. There are plenty of sites that explain you (better than this shitty blog) the different routes, price, and categories of carriage. Sites such as http://seat61.com/Trans-Siberian.htm or http://www.waytorussia.net/. 

Oh no, now most of you suckers will stop reading my blog and go check the other sites... Damn, I was never good at marketing! 

Anyway. I had to get a Russian visa at the Osaka Consulate, but I'll explain that in a post later, otherwise this would take forever - and I'm already late for my therapy session.  

We were both ok with the idea of being plain cheap and taking 3rd class, at least for a part of the trip. I wanted to leave Japan end of September, so the timeframe was settled. It would take something like one week from Vladi to Moscow, plus one day at the Baikal lake. FYI I'm not talking about some quagmire  or some swamp where congenital Siberians go fish, pee or mate. People, pay your respect to the biggest (in surface) AND deepest freshwater reservoir on the whole planet. Plus, its water is so clear you can see all the way to hell. No, seriously, the water is among the clearest on Earth. But mainstream tourists don't know that and just go there because it's a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1996. Wow, this blog is so educational it gives me a headache! 
I wanted to stay longer and enjoy the nature and stuff, but it was not meant to be - we had to arrive earlier in Moscow, hence giving us only one day to swoon and admire the aquatic wonders of Baikal Lake. 
There are other cities along the Trans-Siberian line worth staying longer than just 20 minutes on the platform, but we didn't have time. And if you want more info, I would advise you to buy a proper travel guide, you damn cheapo! What do you think I am, a travel agency or what? 

Anyway. It all went as planed! Errrr, if I forget the part where we missed the train and had to take a cab to catch it at the next station.... I'll get to that later...

How did you buy the tickets ?

How cute! You thought we booked in advance!! That's adorable. Sorry to disappoint you - but since we suck, we didn't. As members of the Board of the Disgusting Cheapos Society, we didn't go through an agency, nor did we trust the Russian railway company website. Of course we just arrived in Vladivostok after 22h of non-stop ferry from Donghae, South Korea, and went directly to the railway station to ask about tickets. Now, you can't just show up and ask questions in English. This is Russia, hello? 

(Mind you, you also can't enter the post office of Huntsville, Alabama and assume people will speak another language than their Redneck gibberish - it's too bad for Russia that English prevailed as an international language. Poor tourists can only deplore the absence of English-speaking staff in touristy areas. If only Russians were more into English class than into class conflicts!)

Luckily we had met a nice Russian guy on the ferry, and not only did he not kill or steal from us, but he also accompanied us to the railway and translated for us - which was kind of epic, as we still didn't manage to understand anything. The train I had seen during my research was either cancelled or fully booked -  so we settled for a 3rd class compartment in a train leaving at 1am the same evening. It was also a bit more expensive than planed, and we weren't sure of the exact time of arrival in Irkutsk. Buying a ticket at the counter feels like playing Russian roulette. Who knows, you might end up in the gulag... Ahaha! But relax, you're on holidays! 

So, basically, if you are travelling with your mother-in-law or if you are particularly subject to any kind of nevrosis, never consider travelling with me and get your tickets beforehand - especially if you don't speak Russian. You can use this page which explains you step step how to buy a ticket online. http://seat61.com/Russia-trains.htm#Using the Russian Railways website. Or go through an agency, if you are stinking rich. 

How much money did you waste on this ridiculous extravangance? 

Yeah, how much did everything cost? I forgot the exact details - but it was about 210 € from Vladi to Moscow. And it could have been a bit cheaper. It really depends on the train you are taking - some lines are new, some trains are old, some stop at each stations, some don't bother. But basically, taking the train within Russia is cheap. Ok, I just checked and taking a plane would be like 25€ more expensive... and would last 6 days and 17 hours less. But shut up! Planes suck! 

What did you eat on the train? 

A very good point. Because food will, after some time, be your priority and occupation number 1. 

Very healthy breakfast. FYI this is TEA, not beer. 

You have the choice. You can either go eat at the train restaurant  - the 'German cantine' as I call it (because it tastes disgusting and is unhealthy). Quite expensive also. You can also choose to eat stuff you buy from old ladies when the trains stops for a little while at a train station - there are always old ladies who want to sell you anykind of delicious, fat and greasy food. Some vegetarian stuff also. Or if you are intelligent, you buy 3 kilos of cup noodles before boarding the train, but is that really what we want? Produce more trash? 

Another less reliable option would be to squat the first class compartments and beg people who leave the train to hand you the rest of the food they brought onboard. Yeah, Russkies never take a train without at least 2 dozens of boiled eggs, bread, mayonnaise and tomatoes. And chicken breast if you are lucky. 

Anyway, we played it cool and did a mix of everything. Besides the German cantine (where we only had one beer, once) and begging. Ok, actually we just bought cup noodles (please, dear Amazon forest, pardon me) and bread and some veggies and stuff before boarding, and also some delicious pelmeni (kind of Russian raviolis) from old ladies, and all kind of deep fried stuff. Which reminds me I should send flowers to the grave of my diet, burried somewhere in Siberia.

What are the things you need onboard (besides stoicism and sense of masochism)?

You can't survive a train ride that long without vodka (yeah, I'm a drunk, so what? But actually we were almost the only winos onboard, and our provodnik told us it was not allowed - but hey, you can always pretend you're drinking water, right?) . Anyway, you need kitchen stuff like a fork, a sharp knife (in case your neighboor snores) , a spoon and a bowl, plus a tea cup. I used a bottle of beer as a teapot. 

As for the rest, definitely take flip flops or any kind of easy-to-put-on-and-off shoes. When you board the train, enter the Dr. Farnsworth mode: forget about social decency and wear pyjamas (or comfortable clothes) and slippers all the time. Who cares! Everybody's doing it. 

About the entertainment, books and playing cards are always good. And music, if you're a music freak (by music, I mean either MP3 player, harmonica or tuba). If you don't speak the sweet language of Mother Russia, consider getting a 'conversation guide', or at least a dictionnary. We tried a mix of English, German, French, Japanese and even Swahili, but it wasn't enough to communicate... Some pictures of you, your family, dog or warts are also appreciated to help bound with your fellow Russkies. And when you are tired of talking, your earplugs and eye-cover will be quite handy to show your interlocutor that his conversation is no longer appreciated. 

We were a bit too extreme and got us some multipurpose disinfecting spray for the hands, the table, the toilets... Speaking of which: I almost forgot the item number 1, nicknamed 'white Gold' by professionals. I mean toilet paper. If you're lucky, your provodnik (each wagon has 2 employees with day and night shifts) will make sure the common parts are clean and provided with  toilet paper; but you never know. Bottomline: don't forget the White Gold Roll. 

Also keep in mind that you might not have easy access to your luggage during the train ride (they can be stored under the seats of fellow passengers and you don't want to bother that 1m90 Uzbek guy when he's taking a nap), so try and manage to stuff the things you'll need in in a smaller bag. 

What kind of services are provided onboard? 

Luxury breakfast with caviar and champagne included, karaoke room, sauna and a home cinema. Kidding. Though if you are travelling during summer, the whole 3rd compartment might get quite hot and steamy... 

Like I said, depending on your provodnik, your compartment will be cleaned daily or yearly, and there might be tissues, soap and toilet paper... Russian roulette style. 

They provide you with a mattress, some sheets and a small towel. There are some plugs here and there (suitable for basic French or German electric systems), but they are located at the end and at the beginning of the carriage - if you're a misanthropist full of fear, you might want to stay close to your Ipad charging. But people seem to keep an eye on each other's stuff, no need to be paranoid there.  We didn't get anything stolen, although we spent many hours away from our stuff... I'll get there...

And was the whole thing worth it? 

No, I missed one week of my favourite TV show and there wasn't any hot stud onboard. Such a waste of time. 
No dummies, of course it was worth it. I am happy that life, in one of her not-bitchy moments, gave me the opportunity to take this damn train. You're just sitting there, reading books, playing poker, drinking whatever cheap home-made booze you can buy on the platform, thinking about life, thinking about yourself, about your achievements, your dreams, about this blog that might just fade away in the infinity of Internet. 

You're passing through wonderful sceneries, powerful and wide rivers such as the Amour, forests of white trees, small scale meanders, little villages populated by congenital Siberians struggling for a better future (130% of which showing support to Poutvedev). 

You try to talk to people and realise the train is full of Urzbek, Turkmen, Kazahk, Tatar, Kyrgyz (try this playing Scrabble and you'll be annuitant for the rest of your life) - all of them speaking or understanding Russian well enough to communicate with each other. While they are mostly going from point A to B, either going off to work in some factory in a remote area, or returning home to their families after too many months of hard labor, you are travelling. You have the choice between plane or train, and they don't. 

It makes you think. Taking the Trans-Siberian train is a life experience - not necessarily as in life-changing, but as in piece of life. Like scraping the mold of the huge cheddar bowl that is Earth and analysing the fungus that we Humans are. 
So yeah. It was basically worth it. 

I have to go now, but a last word of advice: keep in mind the timetables of the trains. Because the train won't wait for you if you don't come back early enough from your little stroll around the city. I'll get there in the following post. 

Next time... I'll definitely go by foot. 

Japanese primary schools... Oops! Universities.

Hello ! 

I recently had to write a small report for my German university about my impressions of Japan and the experiences I made there. Now calm down! I didn't mention anything about my 'cultural' experiences in Butterfly club - I just had to talk about my impressions of Kyoto university. Allow me to reformulate the politically-correct crap I wrote and let me unleash my hatred for this stupid elitist cast-making entity commonly refered to as 'the Japanese education system'. 

Having spent just a few months in Japan is too short to be able to catch the wholeness of the Japanese culture and way of living. There are things that you'll just never get (like why the hell do the taxi drivers wear stupid white gloves?) - and things that you can easily decipher, using the power of logics. Fortunately - otherwise you wouldn't be able to read this post (get a life, by the way), I was able to resolve the following question:   

why the f***do a lot of Japanese students sleep during class? 

Basically, you have a normal lecture hall designed for 100 people (which is never full) and you'll find at least 2 or 3 students sleeping. You'll say it's not much - I'll say f*** off. I mean there are constantly 2 or 3 students sleeping like shit, anytime of the day, in any class. As if they don't have energy, or motivation to study. Kind of weird, as their parents have to pay the (f++++ expensive) tuition fees (2800€ per semester BIATCH). It's as if they don't care about studying itself - it's paid, they'll get the degree somehow, the grades don't seem to matter much. Is that so? 

I tried to look deeper in the subject, talked about it with expats and Japanese friends. You surely heard that, like in China, poor Japanese school kids are encouraged to (read: forced to/threatened if they don't/beaten up and left dead unless they don't) study hard during high school, to get good grades and enter a prestigious university. Besides making their parents proud - which is nice for them, as they probably didn't have any source of happiness or pleasure since for ever - it will ensure the good students a great life after graduation: they will get hired in a big company, get a free training and become a rich salaryman (read: an emotionless robot doing what it's been told without thinking). Because big firms like people who graduated from famous universities. And working in a big company is basically everybody's dream. 

Isn't this picture perfect? It's so well organised and put out together. First you study hard in high school, then you get to relax during university times; then you graduate in slavic cultures and history of art but get hired to analyse the financial aspect of that new contract Honda just signed with Exxon. How logical! Wait... Wtf? Doesn't seem that logical after all. How about people care less about the university of the degree, and care more about the degree of the university? It's not complicated. You just have to invert 2 words. 

Ok, I understand that the field of your studies sometimes doesn't relate to your future career, that you can take a different path... 

But what if universities were meant to be a place of shared knowledge, a place where you could learn important skills for your future life. Like communication, logics, organisation, leadership... And not a daycare center for post-pubescent Japanese. 

You heard me. University time in Japan is basically seen as 4 years of holidays. Those 4 years are granted each students as a reward for working out so hard to enter university, and as a compensation for the lifetime sacrifice they will be making to their future employer: after they get hired, they'll only get one week of holidays per year, plus a few extras here and there. Oh, and they will be morally obliged to stay out late in the office for no real reason. So let's be nice and let them enjoy their careless holidays, where they meet friends, life-lasting partner and make connections important for their future career. 

How about learning a new language or learning how to think and express oneself logically? Sorry, that's not on the plan. 

So, that's why students sleep during class: because they are spoiled little brats who don't give a s*** about learning potential new stuff, knowing their future is already secured (read: will be as boring as hell). Mind you, I make fun of the poor students, but I should also blame the Universities which, knowing their position of 'elites' and enjoying every second of it, won't do much to change that - we don't want those students to know how to think! We don't want to teach them new stuff - we want them to know how to quietly obey the rules. Good girl, good boy!  

Because if they changed the system... It would mean the students would have more knowledge, a better organisation, a sense of fairness... They might start to claim more things, or worse.... be independent. And we don't want that, do we? 

I saw an add on TV one day about the Kyoto University. It said something like that:

"Welcome to the Kyoto University, 2nd best in Japan. Our facilities include some irrelevant research offices and a few faculties, all teenager-proof. Our children-friendly staff is fully trained and is looking forward to assisting your progeny in their daily-life struggles - how to fill a form, where to find and how to use the toilets, how to cure a hangover or a tough breakup. Their well-being and healthy development is our priority number 1 and and we will make sure that no part of their brain will be sollicitated during their stay at Kyoto University. 

Kyoto University. Care takers since 1897. Fees from 50 000¥ a year."