A story of Mihalis Otidhpote who has greatly helped in building the playground for children in Olkhon island:

05 Июль 2011

July the 1st to July the 4th

Through Russia: From Olkhon to Buryatia

The Republic of Buryatia is celebrating 350 years of becoming member of the Russian empire. It is night in Ulan Ude and Russians have already practiced their national hobby i.e. drinking... a lot! It is really not the same after having spent two weeks of isolation and spiritual quest in Olkhon. After watching a beautiful and long lasting firework show above the national stadium of Ulan Ude, during this beautiful time of the day when sun has set but is still leaving this fading luminescence in the horizon, i start searching for a place to stay. And following the example of master Koudelka, that place should be below an open sky. The city is full of drunk people. I got stopped multiple times and every time the same story... where are you from, what is your name and after the introductions, comes the point which is either drink with us or pay for us some more drinks and all these in the form of body language since Russians speaking English is as rear as English people speaking Russian. I kindly avoid all these mass of alcoholics and once i thought i was finally done a guy grabs my arm and starts the usual conversation for once again, but this guy will not let me go. I try to and each time he grabs my bag. The way i saw it i had two options:
a) knock him out thing which considering his situation at the time would be an easy task.
b) sit and listen to him until he gets tired.
Keeping loyal to a non-violent lifestyle, i spent 45 minutes listening to things which i have not the smallest clue what they were about.
It is already 12 at night, i feel extremely tired and the first "Koudelka" spot that i find is an old archery field with a small wooden construction to protect from the winter rains. I spent the night there, wake up with the first light and find myself utterly soaked by the morning mist. I go straight to the Uda river and have a cold shower to wake me up. i head to the city center to go and take some photos of the festival preparations. I make my way through passed out youngsters and fall into a massive fight between some supermarket workers and two drunk Buryats. After a couple of minutes there are two more passed out people and at that time the police arrives. As if broken noses and serious bruises were not enough, the delta force police officers are in a mood of having an early kick boxing practice. I felt sorry for the pour guys who were gasping out moans while i was introducing myself to the curious to learn about me fascist bastards who were shaking hands with me while using their legs to spill more blood on the pavement and making remarks on the Spartans. After they had enough they picked them up handcuffed them and drove them somewhere probably to continue their practice.
At that point i got tired of Siberia. I catch a bus to Kyakhta, the last Russian city before Mongolia. On the mini bus there is this beautiful girl of some Buryat, Caucasian and Turkic origin. She likes me and i like her and the driver likes us and he thinks that we should do something together because, i don't know, probably he believes it will help the diplomatic relationships of the two countries. But she is too shy and i am too skeptical (the story of my life) and so the relationships of the two countries will remain neutral for the moment. By the time i got there was already evening and i spent two hours sitting on the village square and watching for the people preparing for a Saturday night. Some Russians approach me and want to go and drink with them and i was then thinking of Winterreise of Delahaye. I got drunk only by looking at them and i want to leave, so i start walking and looking for a place to spent one more night. I cross an old cemetery and since it fulfills the qualifications (a quite, isolated place) i decide to spend the night there. It has been a very peaceful sleep i must admit with the exception of two interruptions. One was from an animal (i will never know what it was since it was too dark to see) which was sniffing my face and the other was from a grave digger in the morning who was kindly requesting me to leave because there would be a funeral or something like that. So i started walking towards the borders and on the way i was thinking of how stupid i become some times and what would happen if my luck (which i like calling common sense) would abandon me for a single moment. After an hour or so of walking i was there and had to enter the car of a mongolian driver since i could not walk on the other side. He seemed like a nice guy but the bastard was asking for money after we had enter the mongolian ground. I gave him some which was the equilibrium of keeping us both happy. By the way, it took us two hours to cross the borders. The Russians simply love making westerners life difficult. So i am in Mongolia now and need to get to Ulan Bator. I get a hitch hike to the next city with a train station, there try to hitch hike to Ulan Bator but it proved impossible so i was given a lift to the taxi drivers stop who were asking for a 100 USD to get me there. I said "forget it" went to the train station and got a ticket for 4 USD (always do some research!). And later that night i experienced the mongolian platzkart. Oh yes... a unique experience indeed, impossible to describe with words or images. A mongolian girl across me was sharing my enthusiasm but we were unable to talk about it due to lack of common language. After nine and a half hours for 335 kilometers we were finally in the capital. I got out and started walking in the city. It was around 7 in the morning and there was not a single soul out. At some point i was approached by a young mongolian guy, wearing a rainbow, sleeveless, net t-shirt and saying to me "I am homo, gay". Now what the hell is someone supposed to say to that! For sure savoir vivre has no relevant reference. Anyway he is trying to convince me to go to his place and dig him as Neal Cassady would say but i don't and he is quite dissapointed. Better him being dissapointed than me i guess. So i continue walking and my target is to find the Chinese Embassy. I am planning to go to Macau afterward and will do it through China. I manage to find it and see a note saying that the Embassy will not be working for the next week which means that i would have to wait for almost twenty days here. After literally beginning the mongolian guards and the chinese diplomats they allow me to apply for the visa and will have it ready next week. With a relief on my face i get out and head to find a place to stay and get some information about the mongolian Buryats who will be the point of photographic research in the next few days. They are hard to track without help unfortunately. And i need to sleep in a normal bed every once in a while. Probably i need a normal life as well but that is another story...

So here i am writing down a biographic note which for some reason felt like sharing it. A life on the road can be happy, sad, dangerous, adventurous, funny, peculiar or numerous other adjectives but it is always one thing for sure... interesting!

Take care and stay safe

Copied by OLKHON from the facebook page of Mihalis.

PS  Just one more small adding note because i think i have been a bit unfair and that is the last thing i want...
Only SOME Russians are like the way i described. Just as there are "bad and good" people in any country.
So far they have been one of the most welcoming and warmhearted people i've had the pleasure of meeting. I was lucky enough to make some good friends there. I would recommend anyone to travel to Russia, especially to those who like wild, virgin nature... and to those who enjoy a shot of vodka every once in a while!  ...