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A "briar patch" kind of day...
May. 21st, 2004 10:23 amOne of the most attractive aspects of the interpretation and translation field, for me, is the fact that you really hardly ever get bored with the job, because you hardly ever do the same thing over and over again . Having said that, I am sure one can imagine anything to be burdensome if one tries hard enough, but that's enough philosophy for now.
Yesterday was one of those "please don't throw me in the briar patch" kinds of days. Someone had to go along with the client to the Baikonur museum, which is located some distance away at what I think of as the other end of the cosmodrome. Anyway, I was got the call, and was informed of the assignment in a very low-key, almost apologetic manner, as if it was expected that I would be disappointed.
First, however, the management of our Russian host company invited a number of client staff members to stop by "Room 111," where the launch vehicle is undergoing processing in preparation for launch of the client's satellite.
The tour started outside the building, where we saw the train on which the launch vehicle was transported from Moscow to Baikonur. We were told that the trip from the factory in Moscow took 7 days, with a number of detours to allow the oversized cars to pass unimpeded along various rail lines. The train was not as long as some of the freight consists that pass through Pearland, but you'd be hard pressed to see both ends while standing a couple of dozen yards from the track centerline.
Everyone then went inside, donned paper booties on their shoes, and went into room 111.
Describing this place as a "room" is like describing the Mississippi as a "brook." Room 111 is long and wide and high enough to allow two football fields to be laid out inside, end to end, with little risk of any passes or punts hitting the ceiling during play. Down at one end of the facility was the Proton first stage, on its side, mounted on a device that allowed the rocket to be rotated about its central axis so as to make it easier for people on the floor of the facility to work on various parts:
Almost directly behind me as I took this photograph was the rest of the launch vehicle, comprising the second and third stages:
So far, all through the visit, our host (the director of the Baikonur facility) had been explaining what was going on, reporting on how the work was progressing, and inviting (and answering) questions from the group. We had arrived during the noon lunch break (which explains the dearth of people around the rockets), but as we moved back toward the door, some people started to arrive, to continue processing the hardware.
After leaving the facility, everyone piled on the bus for the trip to the museum. It seemed like a fairly long trip, although I didn't time it. I had been briefed that entry was fairly expensive (the equivalent of US$16), but that was incomplete information.
The actual cost breakdown is as follows: the equivalent of $14 to get into the main museum, another $2.50 if you wanted to visit the small houses once inhabited by Yuri Gagarin and Sergei Korolev (the engineer who ramrodded the Soviet space program in the early years), another $10 for the group to cover the cost of the tour guide, and - if you wanted to take pictures - yet another $12. So technically, if you showed up by yourself and wanted to see everything with a guide and take pictures, you'd be forking over the equivalent of $37.50 for the privelege. Yikes!
Heck, the Luna Club in town only rakes in the equivalent of $3.00 as a cover charge on a weekend night! (Moreover, I am told it's less than a buck on weeknights.)
This is not to take anything away from the museum staff, who were very friendly and helpful. Our tour guide was particularly informative, and the director of the museum was very accommodating.
As for the museum itself, I can say little, since I spent my time interpreting and not looking at the exhibits. I caught the guide looking at me a couple of times when I added some information to what she had told the group (she had said that the most recent Soyuz model was the "TMA"; I told the group that it was the "TMA-4, currently docked to the ISS").
The level of detail did not match the exhaustive (and, for the interpreter, exhausting) detail provided by the guides at the Star City museum in Korolev, outside of Moscow, but it did take a toll on the old vocal cords.
For sure, however, the offerings at this museum are in a completely different league from what one can experience at, say, Space Center Houston, which is a private-sector attraction that's operated literally next to JSC in Clear Lake.
On the way back, I got a clear shot at a Buran mockup that sits out in the sun not far from the building that once housed the Buran that flew once, back in November 1988. That building was destroyed a couple of years ago when the roof failed, crushing the flown Buran and more tragically, killing some number of people inside (and on the roof, if memory serves). The image below is a section of a photo taken from bus as it navigated the somewhat bumpy road toward home.
If you see more than just a passing resemblance of the Buran to the US Space Shuttle, your eyes are fine. The Russians will be quick to point out, however, that the Buran - in distinction from the Shuttle - was capable of automatic flight and landing (in fact, the Buran was launched on an Energiya rocket, flew one orbit, and then deorbited and landed at the Yubileiniy airport, all in automatic mode - there were no humans aboard). There are those who maintain that the money spent on Energiya/Buran helped accelerate the fall of the Soviet Union; others say abandoning Buran was a really smart move.
* * * Dinner last night was interesting. Sergey Z. arranged a get-together for the interpretation staff in what is called the "mini bar," which I am told was once a cigar smoking room and is located a couple of doors down from the main dining room. The occasion - and there is always an occasion - was the birth of a set of granddaughter identical twins to one of the members of the interpretation staff. I found it an interesting event, as I realized it was the first opportunity I've had to really socialize with the other interpreters and get to know them better.
* * * I tried calling home several times earlier this morning and now the farblegargling lines are jammed in the mornings, too! It may very well turn out that I may have to set my alarm for some ungodly wee hour just to be able to call home. I really miss my family!
Cheers...
Yesterday was one of those "please don't throw me in the briar patch" kinds of days. Someone had to go along with the client to the Baikonur museum, which is located some distance away at what I think of as the other end of the cosmodrome. Anyway, I was got the call, and was informed of the assignment in a very low-key, almost apologetic manner, as if it was expected that I would be disappointed.
First, however, the management of our Russian host company invited a number of client staff members to stop by "Room 111," where the launch vehicle is undergoing processing in preparation for launch of the client's satellite.
The tour started outside the building, where we saw the train on which the launch vehicle was transported from Moscow to Baikonur. We were told that the trip from the factory in Moscow took 7 days, with a number of detours to allow the oversized cars to pass unimpeded along various rail lines. The train was not as long as some of the freight consists that pass through Pearland, but you'd be hard pressed to see both ends while standing a couple of dozen yards from the track centerline.
Everyone then went inside, donned paper booties on their shoes, and went into room 111.
Describing this place as a "room" is like describing the Mississippi as a "brook." Room 111 is long and wide and high enough to allow two football fields to be laid out inside, end to end, with little risk of any passes or punts hitting the ceiling during play. Down at one end of the facility was the Proton first stage, on its side, mounted on a device that allowed the rocket to be rotated about its central axis so as to make it easier for people on the floor of the facility to work on various parts:
Almost directly behind me as I took this photograph was the rest of the launch vehicle, comprising the second and third stages:
So far, all through the visit, our host (the director of the Baikonur facility) had been explaining what was going on, reporting on how the work was progressing, and inviting (and answering) questions from the group. We had arrived during the noon lunch break (which explains the dearth of people around the rockets), but as we moved back toward the door, some people started to arrive, to continue processing the hardware.
After leaving the facility, everyone piled on the bus for the trip to the museum. It seemed like a fairly long trip, although I didn't time it. I had been briefed that entry was fairly expensive (the equivalent of US$16), but that was incomplete information.
The actual cost breakdown is as follows: the equivalent of $14 to get into the main museum, another $2.50 if you wanted to visit the small houses once inhabited by Yuri Gagarin and Sergei Korolev (the engineer who ramrodded the Soviet space program in the early years), another $10 for the group to cover the cost of the tour guide, and - if you wanted to take pictures - yet another $12. So technically, if you showed up by yourself and wanted to see everything with a guide and take pictures, you'd be forking over the equivalent of $37.50 for the privelege. Yikes!
Heck, the Luna Club in town only rakes in the equivalent of $3.00 as a cover charge on a weekend night! (Moreover, I am told it's less than a buck on weeknights.)
This is not to take anything away from the museum staff, who were very friendly and helpful. Our tour guide was particularly informative, and the director of the museum was very accommodating.
As for the museum itself, I can say little, since I spent my time interpreting and not looking at the exhibits. I caught the guide looking at me a couple of times when I added some information to what she had told the group (she had said that the most recent Soyuz model was the "TMA"; I told the group that it was the "TMA-4, currently docked to the ISS").
The level of detail did not match the exhaustive (and, for the interpreter, exhausting) detail provided by the guides at the Star City museum in Korolev, outside of Moscow, but it did take a toll on the old vocal cords.
For sure, however, the offerings at this museum are in a completely different league from what one can experience at, say, Space Center Houston, which is a private-sector attraction that's operated literally next to JSC in Clear Lake.
On the way back, I got a clear shot at a Buran mockup that sits out in the sun not far from the building that once housed the Buran that flew once, back in November 1988. That building was destroyed a couple of years ago when the roof failed, crushing the flown Buran and more tragically, killing some number of people inside (and on the roof, if memory serves). The image below is a section of a photo taken from bus as it navigated the somewhat bumpy road toward home.
If you see more than just a passing resemblance of the Buran to the US Space Shuttle, your eyes are fine. The Russians will be quick to point out, however, that the Buran - in distinction from the Shuttle - was capable of automatic flight and landing (in fact, the Buran was launched on an Energiya rocket, flew one orbit, and then deorbited and landed at the Yubileiniy airport, all in automatic mode - there were no humans aboard). There are those who maintain that the money spent on Energiya/Buran helped accelerate the fall of the Soviet Union; others say abandoning Buran was a really smart move.
Cheers...
