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Baikonur by night...
May. 16th, 2004 11:26 amI had hoped that my first visit to Baikonur city would be during daylight hours, so I could see as many things as possible. After all, Baikonur (formely Leninsk) is much closer to Kazakhstan in the cultural sense than is the cosmodrome, or space center, at which we are staying, which is essentially a military base.
My knowledge of Baikonur city is very sketchy. One data point was a paper I translated about 7 years ago by some Russian doctors who wanted the Shuttle-Mir program to administer a supplement called bifidumbacterin to the station crew. If memory serves, the supplement contains several strains of bacteria that are normally found in healthy digestive tracts, and was intended to promote the crew’s well-being. In any event, Baikonur city figured among the case studies in the paper, and the impression left of the health of the city's inhabitants - and by extension, of the city and region - was quite poor.
Then again, many changes have occurred in the former Soviet Union over the past decade.
In any event, while walking around the area last night, I got a call from a Russian security guy, to the effect that the bus for the "Luna Club" had arrived, all the passengers were aboard, and all that remained was to pick up an interpreter. The Luna is what passes for a discotheque/nightclub in town, and occupies the building where once thrived a greengrocer. (It's funny how "greengrocer" popped into my mind with more dispatch than "produce store," but I digress...) Moreover, in a departure from the lyrics of Arlo Guthrie's song about Alice's restaurant, it is rumored that you can get anything you want <wink> at the Luna.
Anyway, although I was pretty sure no interpreter was going (none went during my work in last year's campaign), I dutifully called my boss, Sergei Z., and conveyed the request. Sergei confirmed no interpreter was going and I relayed the message back to the security guy.
The security guy was not happy, and said basically: no interpreter, no Luna.
I’ll not bore you with the blow-by-blow, but in the end, I went into the city with the bus, which was filled with the Astrium folks, who are mostly French. I did this even though I still had 90 minutes of “on call” time left, but the way I saw it, since this was the first time this group was going into town, having an interpreter along might not be a bad idea.
As it turned out, I had a pretty interesting time, even though I did not actually go into the Luna, preferring to save what is left of my hearing by staying on the bus and hanging out with the driver and the security contingent. Apparently, my notion of it being a good idea to make sure all bases were covered with regard to the group’s first visit to the Luna Club was shared by the head of the local constabulary (or militsiya) who personally visited the environs of the club several times in his SUV, and had a beat cop stationed right out in front of the establishment.
The driver, the security guys, and I shared some polite conversation, where I explained just how it was I picked up my Russian (for about the millionth time), we swapped some jokes, and then someone brought out a few snacks, and we partook of those. In the course of the conversation, one of the security guys mentioned that the Syr-Darya river was just a couple of hundred meters away, and I guess my reaction betrayed my interest, because a little later he offered to show me the river. I took him up on the offer and we crossed the street that runs in front of the Luna and walked on a little further, over to a small, dry park on the riverbank that features a free-flowing spring and is within a weak stone's throw from the Syr-Darya.
Now, I don’t know how many people back in the States are aware of the Syr-Darya, but I remember “discovering” the river (and its “twin,” the Amu-Darya) on a map in an atlas back in my childhood, and thinking these were very exotic names that just reeked of adventure, treasure, and damsels in search of heros. It turns out the Syr-Darya is a fairly well-known river – certainly not in the “Mississippi” class – but perhaps in the “Columbia” class, as rivers go in the U.S.
It is said that tigers once roamed the lush growth that blossomed along both sides of the river, and that ships traveled up and down the waterway. But that was a hundred years ago and more. What I saw last night was a fairly narrow channel through a very dry landscape. There was a ship that appeared to be moored to the shore not far from where we stood, but that was an illusion, according to my guide. That ship was well and truly grounded on the bottom of the river.
The waterways of the area are dying, according to people who study such things. The Aral Sea is drying out. Human intervention is said to be the cause, though it’s important to keep in mind that homo erectus is not the only component that causes things to change in the natural world.
Upon returning from the river, I went on the bus and tried to get a little sleep (it being something like 1 am or so). I apparently did get some sleep, as the next thing I am aware of, it’s 2:30 am and the bus is filling again. I basically kept my eyes closed while sitting in my seat, and waited for the crowd to settle down. At that point, I must have drifted off pretty well, because except for starting awake when the bus stopped at the town checkpoint (Baikonur is still a "closed city"), my next recollection is arriving back at the Fili.
There's a day trip to town today. I believe Olga will be accompanying the group.
Moi, je suis libre jusqu'à 19 heures.
Cheers...
My knowledge of Baikonur city is very sketchy. One data point was a paper I translated about 7 years ago by some Russian doctors who wanted the Shuttle-Mir program to administer a supplement called bifidumbacterin to the station crew. If memory serves, the supplement contains several strains of bacteria that are normally found in healthy digestive tracts, and was intended to promote the crew’s well-being. In any event, Baikonur city figured among the case studies in the paper, and the impression left of the health of the city's inhabitants - and by extension, of the city and region - was quite poor.
Then again, many changes have occurred in the former Soviet Union over the past decade.
In any event, while walking around the area last night, I got a call from a Russian security guy, to the effect that the bus for the "Luna Club" had arrived, all the passengers were aboard, and all that remained was to pick up an interpreter. The Luna is what passes for a discotheque/nightclub in town, and occupies the building where once thrived a greengrocer. (It's funny how "greengrocer" popped into my mind with more dispatch than "produce store," but I digress...) Moreover, in a departure from the lyrics of Arlo Guthrie's song about Alice's restaurant, it is rumored that you can get anything you want <wink> at the Luna.
Anyway, although I was pretty sure no interpreter was going (none went during my work in last year's campaign), I dutifully called my boss, Sergei Z., and conveyed the request. Sergei confirmed no interpreter was going and I relayed the message back to the security guy.
The security guy was not happy, and said basically: no interpreter, no Luna.
I’ll not bore you with the blow-by-blow, but in the end, I went into the city with the bus, which was filled with the Astrium folks, who are mostly French. I did this even though I still had 90 minutes of “on call” time left, but the way I saw it, since this was the first time this group was going into town, having an interpreter along might not be a bad idea.
As it turned out, I had a pretty interesting time, even though I did not actually go into the Luna, preferring to save what is left of my hearing by staying on the bus and hanging out with the driver and the security contingent. Apparently, my notion of it being a good idea to make sure all bases were covered with regard to the group’s first visit to the Luna Club was shared by the head of the local constabulary (or militsiya) who personally visited the environs of the club several times in his SUV, and had a beat cop stationed right out in front of the establishment.
The driver, the security guys, and I shared some polite conversation, where I explained just how it was I picked up my Russian (for about the millionth time), we swapped some jokes, and then someone brought out a few snacks, and we partook of those. In the course of the conversation, one of the security guys mentioned that the Syr-Darya river was just a couple of hundred meters away, and I guess my reaction betrayed my interest, because a little later he offered to show me the river. I took him up on the offer and we crossed the street that runs in front of the Luna and walked on a little further, over to a small, dry park on the riverbank that features a free-flowing spring and is within a weak stone's throw from the Syr-Darya.
Now, I don’t know how many people back in the States are aware of the Syr-Darya, but I remember “discovering” the river (and its “twin,” the Amu-Darya) on a map in an atlas back in my childhood, and thinking these were very exotic names that just reeked of adventure, treasure, and damsels in search of heros. It turns out the Syr-Darya is a fairly well-known river – certainly not in the “Mississippi” class – but perhaps in the “Columbia” class, as rivers go in the U.S.
It is said that tigers once roamed the lush growth that blossomed along both sides of the river, and that ships traveled up and down the waterway. But that was a hundred years ago and more. What I saw last night was a fairly narrow channel through a very dry landscape. There was a ship that appeared to be moored to the shore not far from where we stood, but that was an illusion, according to my guide. That ship was well and truly grounded on the bottom of the river.
The waterways of the area are dying, according to people who study such things. The Aral Sea is drying out. Human intervention is said to be the cause, though it’s important to keep in mind that homo erectus is not the only component that causes things to change in the natural world.
Upon returning from the river, I went on the bus and tried to get a little sleep (it being something like 1 am or so). I apparently did get some sleep, as the next thing I am aware of, it’s 2:30 am and the bus is filling again. I basically kept my eyes closed while sitting in my seat, and waited for the crowd to settle down. At that point, I must have drifted off pretty well, because except for starting awake when the bus stopped at the town checkpoint (Baikonur is still a "closed city"), my next recollection is arriving back at the Fili.
There's a day trip to town today. I believe Olga will be accompanying the group.
Moi, je suis libre jusqu'à 19 heures.
Cheers...
