On The Road

Teghenis mountains, Armenia

The Harebeat — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 05:54:33 +0000

We left the town of Ashtarak in the evening. It was past six. Our plan was to get to the village of Buzhakan in Kotayk province of Armenia, set up our tent in forests to stay overnight and then early in the morning hike the Teghenis mountain (2851m). So after loading our backpacks, sleeping bags, water cans and food into the car, we (me, my friends Hrahat and Armen, and Armen’s dad) left the town and drove about 40km to Northeast towards the village of Buzhakan, located on a beautiful spot at the foot of the mountains. We drove through the village a bit further and soon found a good camping spot in the nearby forests under oak trees.

The air was chilly, fresh, and later, when the light surrendered to the darkness of the night and the stars appeared in the sky, it became very cold! By that time we have started the fire already! Armen’s dad was preparing our dinner, while we were setting up the tent. The soup was delicious, especially, followed by Armenian cognac. After we were done with eating, we sat around the fire to drink tea, and discuss our plans for tomorrow, which was to wake up early in the morning and start the hike. And so we did. The night in the tent was OK, although in the morning Hrahat said that he heard some sort of roaring, and to make it more interesting, we all agreed it was a bear, but it didn’t have the courage to enter the tent, because the poor animal knew there was a bearded beast inside.

Next morning. For about a half an hour, or maybe more, we had to walk through the forests. And when we were finally out of the oak tree labyrinth, we saw the mountain range of Teghenis. The weather was just perfect, and although the summit we were gonna conquer was hidden in the grey clouds, we were pretty optimistic. Soon, we began to walk along the slopes, moving up and down, exploring the flora, picking up flowers, listening to the birds’ songs (and by saying “birds’ songs” I mean the loud scream of the eagles) and… when we reached the top of one of the hills and saw the mystical beauty of the mountains… well, we were speechless.

And here’s one of the representatives of the local flora – Helichrysum Setosum, if I’m not mistaken. I brought a small bouquet of those back home and now they stand on the altar as an offering to Buddha in my room.

While we were busy taking pictures, a shepherd came to us, riding a horse. The man was curious of what we were doing there in the mountains, he was asking different questions. I found him interesting: very simple thinking, open heart, open mind, and kindness in eyes… pure soul. I felt he needed someone to talk to. Unlike his horse, who wasn’t that happy of this unexpected encounter with strangers.

We took a little rest, and of course didn’t miss the chance to take as many pictures as we could. But we still had a long way to go, so we continued our way to the summit of Teghenis. Our plan was to conquer the mountain, take rest on the top, then come down, make a stop for launch, then return to the camp. The weather was changing from time to time, it was either cool, or hot, sunny, cloudy, then sunny again. Just the right weather for hiking, I think. Closer to the top, we became more enthusiastic. We couldn’t wait to see the scenery, waiting for us on the summit.

What we saw was beyond our expectations. While arranging the whole trip, we were exploring the web for photos, route descriptions. The pictures were amazing. But none of us could even think of how it looks in real. I guess you are bored of reading this letters, so I let you watch the photos taken on the top of Teghenis mountain, hoping you’ll feel the same we felt there.

We were resting on the top of the mountain, enjoying the view. Was I dreaming? Was it real? I was overwhelmed with warm feelings and positive energy, and with the inspiring creative force of the Earth, or Gods, I don’t really know, and it doesn’t really matter as long as there is harmony between mankind and its home. And in some ways I was envious, because the eagles could see the magnificence of the mountains from above. But are they capable of feeling what I, we, felt?.. Who knows, maybe.

Dark clouds appeared in the nearby skies. It was gonna rain. So we hurried back to the camp. It rained soon. And then the sun came out again. And so was the nature we were leaving behind, driving back to our small town, tired, exhausted, and happy.

Masjid Jamek, Kuala Lumpur

The Harebeat — Thu, 14 Jul 2011 10:57:42 +0000

Located at the convergence of Klang and Gombak Rivers, Masjid Jamek is acclaimed to be the oldest mosque of Kuala Lumpur.. And of course I wouldn’t forgive myself for missing it.. Not because it’s a famous touristic spot, but because I prefer to learn the history of places through their churches and temples, which play an important role in the life of any community.. From the hostel in KL’s China Town, where I was staying I decided to take a long walk to the mosque under the burning Malay sun! And as I suffer from “topographical cretinism” (as the Russians say) in big cities, I got lost, even though I had a map with me.. Luckily, with the help of the locals I made my way to the mosque, where an old man with a long white beard greeted me..

“As-Salamu Alaykum”, he said and smiled..
“Wa alaykum salam”, I smiled back..
“Are you sikh?” he asked, and I said I’m not..
“But you’re Indian, right?”
He seemed to be a bit confused and was even more surprised when I said that neither I am Indian..
“Then where are you from?”
“I’m from Armenia”, said I, but seeing how lost he was in attempts to remember if he knew such country or not, I had to add: “It’s near Russia”.. A big smile brightened his face..
“Are you Muslim?”
“No!”
“Are you Christian?”
“No!”
“No? So you’re Hindu?”
“I’m all of them”, said I.. He ran his fingers through his beard, and said calmly, “Then welcome to Masjid Jamek”..

Jamek Mosque used to be the main mosque of Kuala Lumpur until Masjid Negara (National Mosque) acquired its position in 1965.. The construction of the mosque was completed in 1907, but only two years later, on 23 December 1909, Sultan Alauddin Sulaiman Shah, the Sultan of Selangor, officially opened it.. The mosque was constructed on the first Malay Burial Ground in KL, on the spot where Kuala Lumpur started.. During the construction of the mosque, the cemetery has been moved to the Gombak Muslim cemetery..

Masjid Jamek is the right place for those who want to escape from the craziness of KL.. Though many tourists visit the mosque, yet its calm and serene atmosphere embraces you from the very moment you enter the gates.. Here and there devotees resting, some doing the rituals and prayers, or talking with their friends, others walking in the shade of coconut palms..

With its red-brick and marble structure Masjid Jamek is a beautiful example of Moorish architecture.. Three domes cover the prayer hall, of which the central dome is 21.3 meters high.. It collapsed in the 1990s and was rebuilt later.. Two 26.8 meters high red and white stripped minarets are at the corners.. They are identical in design and are topped with umbrella-shaped cupolas.. The mosque was designed by Arthur Benison Hubback, British engineer who worked upon the famous Sultan Abdul Samad Building and Kuala Lumpur Railway Station too..

During my stay in KL I visited the mosque 4 or 5 times, alone and with new friends.. And every time the same old man with the same long white beard would greet me, sitting near the entrance gates.. And he would always smile to me, saying, “And how are you today?”.. Some other time he would introduce me to people who served in the mosque and they would present me booklets related to different topics in Islam, such as family affairs, behavior of a devotee, etc.. And once he asked me if I want to accept Islam and if that’s the reason why I often visit the Jamek Mosque.. “No”, said I. “It’s just that I love this place, so beautiful and peaceful”..

Ashtarak: The Legend of Three Sisters

The Harebeat — Sat, 11 Jun 2011 06:17:38 +0000

In the town of Ashtarak, where I live now in Armenia, there aren’t many interesting places to explore.. But the town has some beautiful churches.. The four churches I am going to tell about below are related to each other in a story of tragic love.. That’s the town’s most famous legend – The Legend of Three Sisters..

According to the legend, three sisters lived in Ashtarak, all of whom fell in love with the same man, prince Sargis..The two elder sisters decided to commit suicide in favor of the youngest.. The threw themselves into the gorge of Kasakh river.. When the youngest sister found out what her sisters have done, she also committed suicide.. The prince, after knowing that three innocent girls died because of him, became a hermit.. And on the edge of the gorge, on the spots from where the three sisters threw themselves into the gorge, three churches were built, named after the sisters’ dress colors..

St. Sargis Church on the photo above is located on the edge of the gorge opposite the three other churches.. Church has a small cruciform central-plan supposedly built in the 19th century on an old foundation of XII century.. A single drum and umbrella type dome rest on top of the church.. The interior stone has not been changed, yet the exterior façades have had extensive restoration work done recently.. That’s why the church looks to be new, but a small number of the older original stones carved with decorative relief and inscriptions show its age to be much older.

As I already said, the three churches built in memory of the three sisters were named after the colors of the dresses the wore when they committed suicide.. The church of photo above is the Karmravor Church.. Translated from Armenian, “karmravor” means “reddish”, and as you can guess the color of the dress was red.. Karmravo Church (the other name is The Holy Mother of God Church) was built in VII century by priests Gregory and Manas. It’s a simple building with a small cruciform central-plan and a Byzantine style single red tile dome roof.. According to Jean-Michel Thierry de Crussol, French physician and art historian, specializing in Byzantine and Armenian art, the Karmravor Church marks a turning point in Armenian architecture, with its simple building in the shape of a cross with a single dome setting a style that would be repeated over the years in spite of other influences (Thierry, Jean-Michel, 1989, “Armenian Art”).

Unfortulately, the other two churches aren’t well-preserved, and only the ruins stand on the edge of the gorge.. The arch-shaped walls on the photo above are the walls of the Tsiranavor church, built between XIII and XIV centuries.. It is apricot-orange in color, because of the tufa stone used for the construction of the building.. Today, only the walls remain since the roof, drum, and dome have collapsed.. Very little decoration adorns the church other than some cruciform relief found on the exterior walls..

And on the last photo are the ruins of Spitakavor Church, which, according to the legend, was built in the memory of the youngest sister, who dressed into white dress and them threw herself into the gorge.. Spitakavor means “whitish”.. The church is a triple-aisled basilica built in the 5th-6th centuries, most-likely around the years of 540-557.. It was the only basilica of Ashtarak.. The front façade had at one time been painted white, that’s where the name come from.. During the 17th century the church was fortified by doubling the north and west walls in order to defend the structure, and above the southern wall a gun slot was erected.. In 1815, the church was partially ruined. The south façade was supposedly rebuilt at one point. During 1963-64, restorations were done to the church which revealed walls, piers, arches, fragments of vaults, and a khachkar..

Lychakiv Cemetery, Lviv

The Harebeat — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 11:30:19 +0000

Do you like cemeteries? I know it’s a strange question to ask, and yet… do you like cemeteries? I do! For me, it’s a place where I can wander alone in seclucion and think about life and death.. I always try not to disturb dead ones, but, you know, sometimes looking at the photograph of the departed one, I get this feeling I wanna to talk to him.. And we talk.. One of the oldest cemeteries of present day’s Ukraine is the Lychakiv Cemetery, a famous and historic cemetery in Lviv, which since its creation in 1787 has been the main necropolis of the city’s intelligentsia, middle and upper classes..

It was a nice and sunny day in Lviv.. A wonderful day to visit a cemetery.. And so me and my friend Lena, known to you from the Soup Trip Story, took a tram and then had a 5-minutes walk to the Lychkiv cemetery, which is located not too far from the city center.. Passing through the main gates we went to the ticket office and bought tickets, because the cemetery serves as a museum nowadays.. The title of Memorial Museum-Reserve was conferred in 1991.. Entrance fee is 10 Ukrainian hryvnia, less than 1,5 USD.. So once we got our tickets we took one of the paths and walked up the hill along the tombstones and little chapels..

Initially the cemetery was located on several hills in the borough of Lychakiv, following the imperial Austro-Hungarian edict ordering that all cemeteries be moved outside of the city limits.. The original project belonged to Karl Bauer, a university botanist.. Today Lychakiv cemetery covers 105 acres.. Due to the overwhelming popularity of Lychakiv the cemetery limits were expanded several times in 1804, 1808, 1856.. In 1856, Tytus Tchórzewski had rearranged the territory, laid out walks and alleys, transforming the cemetery into a park for those who feel blue or romantic.. Lychakiv cemetery then became the main cemetery of Lviv..

Actually, I wrote the paragraph above and thought how a cemetery can be a romantic place?.. Because I didn’t see anything romantic.. Loneliness, yes.. Sadness.. But a park for romantic couples? Maybe this is a different perspective, a different perception of death.. I don’t know.. But when I looked at abandoned graves I saw loneliness.. I saw them all lying there alone.. Some of the graves were in really poor conditions.. Perhaps none of their relatives is alive now, and maybe they are buried somewhere else.. No one visits them except tourists for whom it is more of an attraction.. “Jeder stirbt für sich allein”, as the German author Hans Fallada would say.. Every man dies alone.. And stays alone after, too, I would say..

The Lychakiv cemetery hosts more than 300K deceased, 2 thousand crypts and almost 500 sculptures, the majority of which are works of art.. The oldest gravestones date back to 1787 and 1797.. Genuine masterpieces can be also found among later crypts.. There are humble tombs, which, however, tell curious stories, like the tomb of Franciszek Zaremba, soldier of Kościuszko’s army who died aged 112..
Today, the cemetery is closed for new funerals.. However, there are some exceptions a crowd of many thousands had paid the last tribute to famous composer Ihor Bilozir by attending his funeral here in 2000..

When I was a teenager, I used to think that the ones who die are actually the ones who live.. And to become alive one had to die first.. And those who are alive are actually dead.. From then, I’ve changed my views many times.. And although death had always been a very interesting topic for me, nowadays I prefer not to speak much about it, as I was advised by the Ifugao people, when I was in the Philippines.. And so now I will finish this blog post and let you watch some more photos from Lychakiv cemetery, located by following link:
https://picasaweb.google.com/harebeat/LychakivCemeteryInLviv

Sagada: Echo Valley and Hanging Coffins

The Harebeat — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 19:54:54 +0000

SECOND PART
read the first part here:
Sagada: Echo Valley & Hanging Coffins, First Part

It’s not hard to guess why the Echo Valley is called so.. Many tourists come here and standing on some cliff they shout out loud to hear the echo.. I personally find it very rude! What would you think of a person shouting at cemetery for his own pleasure, to enjoy the echo?! While for most of the tourists Echo Valley is a place where they can have fun, for locals it is a sacred site where they used to “bury” their ancestors..

The people of Sagada prefer to bury the deceased in caves rather than in grounds.. They have practiced this ritual for more than 2,000 years.. Some caves can be found in Echo Valley.. Another form of burying the dead was to hang the coffin from cliffs..
I heard three different versions of why do the people hang the coffins.. One of the locals who later picked me up on the road said they hang the coffins because in this way the soul of the deceased is closer to Heaven.. The policemen in the police station where I spent a night gave me a similar explanation, although in a more interesting way.. They said it is based on their local beliefs.. If they bury the body in grounds, then it is easier for the Evil to steal the souls and take them down to Hell.. And when the coffins are hanged, it makes easier for the Go(o)d to reach the souls and take them to Heaven..

But the version of a historian I met in St. Louis University Museum in Baguio couple of days later was absolutely different.. And his theory is based on social life of the local community in Sagada.. He said that only those deceased were allowed to be hang who contributed a lot to the community.. In other words, those who did a lots of good things.. And the coffins with their corpse were hung for others to see and to remember them as highly respected people after they pass away..

I came as close to the coffins as I could.. Was I scared? Yeah, a little bit.. Imagine yourself standing under the hanging coffins with no one alive around.. Spooky.. I took only one photograph of the coffins and left.. I didn’t really want to disturb the deceased.. Because I still had to walk my way out of the valley.. And I didn’t want to be haunted being all alone in the Echo Valley, surrounded by trees and rocks and some invisible eyes observing me.. At least, that’s how I felt.. So I walked away.. Soon I got lost.. I took the wrong path and found myself at dead-end.. “How funny,” I thought.. And at that exact moment in the best Hollywood traditions a carabao (domesticated subspecies of water buffalo) bellowed……

I must have left an impression of a coward on you, didn’t I? To make the long story short, that carabao helped me to find my way as I followed to its moo, passed through some trees, and following the river soon got out of the Echo Valley..

Sagada: Echo Valley and Hanging Coffins

The Harebeat — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 18:32:46 +0000

FIRST PART
read the second part here:
Sagada: Echo Valley & Hanging Coffins, Second Part

I arrived in Sagada late in the evening on a minivan I hitchhiked on the road from Banawe.. I wasn’t sure if could make it from Banawe to Sagada that day, because I left Banawe around 5 o’clock in the evening, and knowing the conditions of the road in the Philippine Cordilleras, I was expecting an overnight stay somewhere on the road or in the jungles.. But the Fortune’s wheel was on my side that evening.. First, on a motorbike I reached a military base on some mountain top.. That was the best ride on a motorbike I ever experienced: we had to drive through clouds and sometimes even above the clouds; that high we were above the sea level..

Then from the mentioned military base (one of the officers said it’s dangerous for me to stay there, because they might be under attack at any moment; I wondered who’s that insane who wants to attack a military base lost in the mountains; communist guerrillas, NPA, no joke) I got a ride all the way to Sagada, where I walked straight to the local police station and asked them to spend the night there.. Policemen in the Philippines are very hospitable; I got my space on the floor, unpacked my sleeping bag and prepared myself for a good sleep after a long day.. But before had a chat with officers.. They said I will be sharing the room only with one of the officers, because the rest will be patrolling the surroundings..
“Why? Something happened?”
“One of our guys shot a Kalinga (headhunters tribe) and now they want ten heads instead..”
I don’t know if that was true or not, but my sleep wasn’t that peaceful as I was expecting Kalingas to run in at any moment for my head.. What a miserable death; from the hand of a head hunter; and I’m not even a local.. Early in morning when woke up I immediately left the police station and took the path towards the Echo Valley passing by an old Episcopal church..

Echo Valley is a very popular tourist destination in Sagada, small town located in the Mountain province of the Philippines.. And the main reasons are the caves and…… hanging coffins! I usually try to avoid places that attract a lots of tourists, but this one I couldn’t miss as I am very much interested in burial traditions in different cultures.. When I was in Tomsk before leaving for southeast Asia, in one of the local travel magazines I read an article about Philippines and the hanging coffins were mentioned there, too.. And I remember as I told my friend that I will definitely visit the coffins.. And so I did..
Although in tourist information center I was told that I’ll have to take a guide to go to the valley, I decided to go there alone.. First, I had to pass through a cemetery..

Being attracted by the graves I soon lost my, so I had to ask for directions.. Some local workers explained me how to get to the valley and soon I was there.. The Echo Valley.. magnificent scenery.. Peaceful.. Tranquil.. The best place to be after all the adventures I had getting here..

(to be continued)

The Soup Trip Story

The Harebeat — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 16:04:28 +0000

In the train from Moscow, Russia to Lviv, Ukraine

Usually I don’t take trains when I travel.. No matter what.. I don’t like trains.. Maybe I just spent too much time wandering on the roads.. Or there’s something else I don’t understand yet.. It’s hard to say.. But even if it’s -45°C cold, I prefer to hitchhike..
Nevertheless, when my friend suggested me to take the train from Moscow to Lviv, I agreed.. I had some good reasons for that and the main one was my poor health as each of seventy something days I spent in Russia I was sick.. Even now sitting in a half lotus posture with The Armenoinds on my player and typing these letters for you to read – I am still sick.. Cold weather is something I have to learn to deal with after living one year in South East Asia.. But let’s go back to the train..

It was a cold February morning in Moscow.. When we arrived to the Kiyevsky train station, our Train Number One Hundred Forty One was on its line.. At 12.35 PM we left.. Our neighbors – a young blond girl who kept drinking beer all the way, a Uzbek guy who was going to Ukraine only to cross the border to get another stamp in his passport and come back to Moscow the same day, and a forty-five years old lady, who was actually very friendly.. And it turned out she was also heading to Lviv.. Oh, and yes, I forgot about our elephants.. Vasya the Elephant and Parvati Mataji, lady elephant from India, who adopted Vasya..

I knew that the only way for me to survive the train trip was to act weird and crazy and have fun together with my friend Lena – a Hare Krishna devotee and George Harrison fun as I am myself.. A day before she had cooked a vegetarian soup and so she took it with her for us to eat.. We began our trip playing games till dinner.. The vegetarian soup was delicious but…cold.. Somehow when taking the soup in plastic food containers Lena forgot that there’s no way to heat it in the train.. When the dinner was over we decided to write a poem line by line.. The poem turned out to be too weird to be posted but if being short, it was about an old man, whose wife abandoned him and ran away with her lover-horse and so the old man now was living with the only elephant he had, taking acid drugs and riding striped bugs.. Was it the cold vegetarian soup aftereffect?..

We crossed the Russian-Ukrainian border around seven o’clock in the evening.. On the Russian side the immigration officer was concerned about me being myself.. “You got chinky eyes in your passport,” he said. “But the eyes on your face are big.” “I’ve spent two months traveling in China. That’s where I got chinky eyes,” said I.. And he was satisfied.. On the Ukrainian side everything was fine, although the officer asked plenty of questions to make sure I’m not like the Uzbek guy, doing a stamp run.. The Uzbek guy, by the way, was taken to the immigration office.. And as the blond girl also left the train right after she was checked, we continued our trip minus two people..
For the supper we had the same vegetarian soup.. This time we decided to heat the soup putting in on a boiler with hot water.. Everything was perfect till the moment when the food container with our supper fell down.. The container got some cracks and our soup was floating away from us.. But when that’s the only food you have for the next fourteen hours, you act quick.. Turning the container upside down and cutting a hole for our spoons on it, we finished the vegetarian soup, still cold..

Then there was a sleepless night, because the train was shaking so bad as if we were undergoing some kind of NASA test for astronauts.. At 10.15 AM next morning our soup trip was over in the city of Lviv in Western Ukraine.. And I guess that was the first and last time when we were traveling with containers of soup..

Dali Old Town: Bai architecture

The Harebeat — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 12:10:01 +0000

According to literature, Dali Ancient City was a gateway to the Silk Road in Southwest China, and also served as a seat of government and a major military barracks for Yunnan Province in ancient times.. There were four city gates facing West, East, North and South, upon which a gate tower sat.. Four further towers were also placed at the four corners of the city wall.. As it underwent many phases of prosperity as well as decline, only the city base remained till today.. The North and the South Towers were restored in 1982..

Dali Old Town is famous for traditional Bai-style architecture.. The Bai are one of the 56 ethnic groups officially recognized by the People’s Republic of China.. In 1956, of their own will they were named the Bai Nationality by Chinese Authorities.. Bai people live mostly in the provinces of Yunnan (Dali area), and in neighboring Guizhou and Hunan provinces.. Eighty percent of Bai population of China lives in Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture in Yunnan Province.. The Bai people hold the white colour in high esteem and call themselves “Baipzix”, “Baip’ho”, or “Baip yinl”, or “Miep jiax”.. In Chinese “bai” means white..

Traditional Bai-style dwelling consists of three houses forming a “U” and a fourth wall as a screen with a courtyard in the middle.. The houses are usually built with brick and wood, and the main room is in the middle, opposite the screen wall.. The screen wall is built with brick and stone.. There’s a practical use for that wall.. When the sun shines on the screen wall in the afternoon, the sunlight is reflected back to the courtyard, thus illuminating the whole area..

There is a Bai saying, “Pebbles make walls that never collapse..” That’s why some people build up their homes by selecting pebbles from the streams that flow down from the Cangshan Mountain and mixing them with mud.. These homes are usually topped with mud brick walls and sealed with a mud and grass plaster mix.. The foundation of a Bai building is usually constructed of rectangular stones.. The stones often weigh in excess of 600 pounds each..

The house is painted in white with black tile paintings depicting animals and nature.. The detailing usually is made of clay sculpture, woodcarving, colored drawing, stone inscription, marble screened and dark brink..

Gates are decorated with colorful paintings depicting various stories.. Sometimes these include marble slabs, and even valued porcelain plates to show the owner’s wealth..

Walls are usually painted in white which serves as a reflecting wall to bring in sunshine and warmth.. Often people paint prosperous sayings such as ‘Fu’ (fortune), ‘Shou’ (longevity), or ‘Xi’ (happiness)..

Construction of the house is a village and family affair.. Ground is broken on carefully chosen prosperous days of the Lunar calendar.. Local religious leaders will often visit the site in advance and make the selection based on Feng Shui.. Building begins with a party, with friends and neighbors gathering to help raise the first timbers.. After upholding other rituals, the work waits for another day as a feast to celebrate the beginning of the new constructions is held..

Sources:
1. The Linden Centre
Based on a philosophy of intercultural exchange, The Linden Centre is an all-inclusive compound in Xizhou town (Dali city, Yunnan province of China), providing all meals and transport for excursions and side-trips, allowing their guests to focus on the deeper aspects of the ethnic traditions and enjoy unimpeded interaction with local villagers and the customs of Bai people.

2. Wikipedia

Tomsk

The Harebeat — Tue, 15 Feb 2011 12:09:27 +0000

Tomsk is my favorite city in Russia! And even though some can say St. Petersburg is more beautiful (which is not that far from the truth), still among all the cities I’ve visited in Russia, Tomsk is the number one for me!.. And it’s not only because of my good friends who live there, or of its amazing wooden houses, or a friendly atmosphere, or tonnes of white snow on the streets at wintertime.. Or, or, or.. There’s something special in Tomsk, which I hardly can express using words..

My first visit to Tomsk was in January 2008.. A crazy hitchhiking trip through the cold of Siberia, 7 days on the road, first time traveling so far and into such a cold weather…. just to visit a good friend.. I didn’t know anything about Tomsk, but I fell in love with the city once I arrived.. A year later, on the way from Ulan-Ude and Irkutsk back to Moscow, I’ve visited the city again.. And again it was winter..

What made me to come back for the third time?.. The Tomsk itself and my friends Dima and Anna.. It’s like a tradition, to visit the city every winter.. But apart from that, I also had a planned concert.. That’s why, though Tomsk was quite away from the road to Kazakhstan where I was heading, I hitchhiked about 2000 km more back and forth to bid farewell to Tomsk before leaving Russia..

A Little Bit of History
Tomsk is located on the Tom river, about 300 km to North-East of Novosibirsk.. It was founded in 1604 under a decree from Tsar Boris Godunov, who sent 200 Cossacks under the command of Vasiliy Tyrkov and Gavriil Pisemsky to construct a fortress on the bank of the Tom River to protect Russia from the invasions coming from the south and make the Eastern border of Russia stronger..
In 1804, the government selected Tomsk to become the center for a new governorate which would include the modern cities of Novosibirsk, Kemerovo, Krasnoyarsk and eastern Kazakhstan. The new status brought development and the city grew quickly..

The discovery of gold in 1830 brought further development to Tomsk in the 19th century.. However, when the Trans-Siberian Railway bypassed the city in favor of the village of Novonikolayevsk (now Novosibirsk), development began to move south to connect with the railway.. In time, Novosibirsk would surpass Tomsk in importance..
In the mid 19th century, one-fifth of the city’s residents were exiles.. However, within few years, the city would be reinvented as the educational center of Siberia with the establishment of Tomsk State University and Tomsk Polytechnic University.. By World War II, every 12th resident of the city was a student..
Even today Tomsk is famous as a students’ city.. It is said that every 5th resident is a student.. Walking on the streets of the city, you can see that it’s true..

Wooden Houses
Trans-Siberian railway is very popular nowadays among foreign travellers.. Many people every year take the Trans-Siberian train, but unfortunately, not many of them visit Tomsk, because the city is located a bit away from the railway.. Pity, because Tomsk is quite unique among the other cities of the region..

If Moscow is famous for its Red Square, St. Petersburg for its history, Tomsk is well-known for its old wooden houses with elaborately carved window patterns! This is a must-see!

Nowadays it’s quite common for all the cities of Russia to build tall buildings made of steel and glass.. Buildings that have no souls and no feelings.. Wooden houses are different.. They have a soul.. Wooden houses of Tomsk are like connectors between the past of Siberia and the present.. Each house has a story.. A story of those who were building it hundreds of years ago, in the wild cold, with their own hands, suffering a lot.. Working hard, they were indeed creating a masterpiece..

But unfortunately, as the capitalism hit Russia after Soviet Unions collapsed the cultural heritage was in danger.. As the country developes in new realities, the number of these wooden houses is constantly decreasing.. And the reason is the land, which nowadays is very expensive and can be a good business.. The old wooden houses occupy that expensive piece of cake and the only way to get rid of them is what the officials call the accidentally occurred fire.. There were even several cases when the houses were burnt during the night when people were sleeping inside.. Of course, in all cases the old electricity wires were blamed.. But once the house was burnt, a new building would arise on its place..

Few years ago the situation was really bad, but locals say it’s getting better now.. Although sometimes there are still fire cases, but seems that the government and people are more conscious about preserving their history.. And it gives a hope that Tomsk will survive as an open air museum of wooden houses and carvings..

Tsugolsky Datsan

The Harebeat — Tue, 15 Feb 2011 11:55:57 +0000

The impression of Aginsky datsan on me was universal!! I’ve never expected to see something like that.. But my friend assured me that there’s another datsan not far from Chita, which is even more impressive.. Maybe not that beautiful, but the atmosphere there is much better.. She was talking about Tsugolsky datsan located about 300 km East of Chita, in the village of Tsugol.. As usual, I hitchhiked there and got to the place in some 4-5 hours.. Tsugolsky datsan is located 3 km off the road, so I had to walk through the hills by the rocky road.. Right behind the last turn the roof of the temple appeared, and then the temple itself.. The scenery was so beautiful I hardly could find words to express what I’ve felt..

According to the official list of Lamaist datsans of Eastern Siberia, Tsugolsky datsan was founded in 1801 and was given a name “Dashi Choypelling” (The Country of Happy Teachings).. Datsan was not only a center of religious, but also social and cultural life of the Eastern Siberia.. Basics of Buddhism, Tibetan and Mongolian languages, geography, medicine, astrology, philosophy were taught here.. Many of students of Tsugolky datsan later became the founders and teachers of Buddhist dialectics in datsans of Aginsk, Gusinoozyorsk, Aninsk and others..

The first thing you see is the main shrine – Tsogchen dougan.. Before 1827-1828 it was made of felt.. During 1831-1834 the 3-story wooden shrine was built, but after the fire Tsogchen dougan was built of stones.. Since that time its appearance hadn’t change..
I walked into the yard and stood for some time looking at the majestic Tsogchen dougan.. There was no one around.. Only a little dog digging snow near the back wall of the building.. Seeing me, the dog barked, then ran over to me and began to run around my backpack.. I decided to make the circle around the temple, then came back, sat on the snow just like that, got the thermos of tea and biscuits out of my backpack.. I was going to have a breakfast.. The dog came closer to me.. He got two or three of the biscuits..
While I was sitting and enjoying the view, suddenly a man in a black hat and coat appeared, passed through the yard and went out through another passage, not even looking at me..

But not even a minute later he appeared in the yard again and came over me..
“Where are you from?” he asked me.
“From Moscow.. Hitchhiked here..”
“First time in out datsan?”
“Yes,” I answered, wondering what’s gonna happen next..
“Then why are you sitting here, come on, there’s a lot to see here. I’ll be your guide..”
I was surprised and happy in the same time.. The man happened to be the younger assistant of the head of the datsan.. He was telling me the history of the place, while touring around, and when the tour was over he led me to the dinning hall where I met other monks and together we had a delicious milk tea and sweets.. The good man also presented me books and postcards and then suddenly disappeared..

By the early 20th century Tsugolsky datsan was a complex consisting of the main shrine and ten dougans.. Among them Sume Maitreya, where there’s a six meters high bronze statue of Buddha Maitreya; Sume Manba, which housed one of the rare copies of the Atlas of Tibetan Medicine; also Ayushin Sume, Sume Demchog.. Datsan also housed a hospital, a printing house (the biggest in Buryatia)..

During the first decades of the Soviet government, many of the datsans of Buryatia were destroyed.. Only those were saved, which during the war years were used as hospitals, stables, warehouses, etc. Tsugolsky datsan, for example, was used as a weapon warehouse and stable..
The revival of the datsan began in 1988 when it was given back to the Buddhist community.. An important event in the modern history of Buddhism in Russia was the return of the statue of Buddha Maitreya back to Tsugolsky datsan, which was sent to anti-religious museum in Ulan-Ude in 1935, and then transferred to St. Petersburg where it was kept in Kazansky Cathedral till 1990..

The history of Tsugolsky datsan ia unique due to the fact that more than two centuries its chanting are not interrupted.. In times of persecution lamas migrated to Shenehen, built a temple there and continued the ceremonies.. Five of them returned to Tsugol in 1995-1996..

One of the significant events of the modern history of Tsugolsky datsan was the Namnanay Bagshi stupa on its territory.. Namnanay was a great yogi known in the Buddhist world..

Indeed, the atmosphere here was different.. Everything was so peaceful and in harmony around.. I wandered around about an hour or more, and then walked back to the road and hitchhiked to Chita.. I had an amazing day there in Tsugol datsan!..