Here's a diary exert from my Trans-Siberian journey.
20.08.07
His name was Peter. Or at least that's what he told me when I couldn't pronounce his Russian name. He came into my compartment at 23:00 local time. I was initially disappointed to lose the privacy of a whole four-person compartment to myself, but he quickly won me over with his warmth and eagerness to speak.
Despite his extremely limited English vocabulary he really, really wanted to have a conversation. I showed him on the map where I was from. And explained my journey home. He looked impressed and shook my hand firmly for the third time. Sitting across from me, stripped down to nothing more than what looked to be a thong (but I didn’t look too close), a gold chain and a gold ring on his right hand (where Russians wear their wedding rings), he tried to explain his work to me (I think). With a lot of thumping of the wooden paneling and body language, this forty year old explained that he cleared trees from the forests around Moscow. I confirmed my lumberjack theory by making loud 'vrmm vrmm' noises with my pretend chainsaw and then showing my best axe swing. He nodded approval, but his hands were a bit too soft and nails too clean to be an old school lumberjack so maybe we were on completely different wavelengths.
Anyway, it was great ‘chatting' to him and made me wish I’d brought a phrase book. Next time.
20.08.07
His name was Peter. Or at least that's what he told me when I couldn't pronounce his Russian name. He came into my compartment at 23:00 local time. I was initially disappointed to lose the privacy of a whole four-person compartment to myself, but he quickly won me over with his warmth and eagerness to speak.
Despite his extremely limited English vocabulary he really, really wanted to have a conversation. I showed him on the map where I was from. And explained my journey home. He looked impressed and shook my hand firmly for the third time. Sitting across from me, stripped down to nothing more than what looked to be a thong (but I didn’t look too close), a gold chain and a gold ring on his right hand (where Russians wear their wedding rings), he tried to explain his work to me (I think). With a lot of thumping of the wooden paneling and body language, this forty year old explained that he cleared trees from the forests around Moscow. I confirmed my lumberjack theory by making loud 'vrmm vrmm' noises with my pretend chainsaw and then showing my best axe swing. He nodded approval, but his hands were a bit too soft and nails too clean to be an old school lumberjack so maybe we were on completely different wavelengths.
Anyway, it was great ‘chatting' to him and made me wish I’d brought a phrase book. Next time.
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