It was the end of a super long, very frustrating day. I’d done more backtracking than I ever wanted to do. I’d missed out on a stunning train journey and I’d taken the same train route three times. Instead of crowding into a tiny mini bus and making the trek to the resort town of Listvyanka on the shore of Lake Baikal, I’d made the contribution to the local economy and hired a taxi to drive me the 90 minutes. (At a cost of less than 20$ US, making this journey in a quiet car instead of a bus was a major bonus).
My drive spoke very little English, but we managed to connect with my limited Russian, and his deep love for Canadian vs Russian hockey games. The drive passed entirely uneventfully until we got to the edge of town. I make a point of watching the journey on my phone with google maps on any cab ride, mostly to make sure I’m being taken where I want to go. We were only about 3 blocks from my hotel when this encounter took place:
He asked me something along the lines of ‘Canada, and bears’. I tried to tell him that I hadn’t seen any in Russia, but that we did have them in Canada. He was oddly insistent ‘bears! See Bears’ and then he growled quite convincingly.
When in doubt, especially with a language barrier, the best route I’ve found, is to laugh and agree. Doing this and reacting in a ‘yes sure’ way, all of a sudden, he pulled a u-turn in the middle of the (relatively) crowded street and started quickly driving the opposite way.
This was where freakish visions of ‘Taken: Lake Baikal’ flash through my mind. I tell myself that surely with so many witnesses we won’t get far. But I am in a tiny town in Siberia, on the deepest lake in the world.
I protest and confirm my hotel choice. He answered along the lines of ‘yes, Mayak! 2 minutes. Bear first!’
Figuring he’d seen a bear back a bit and wanted to give me an experience, and knowing that he knew my hotel, I sat back, telling myself that any minute past the town and I’d tuck and roll.
Thankfully, less than 30 seconds back down the road, we pulled over to a small museum with a giant stuffed bear out front. This was the giant, terrifying Siberian bear!?
The driver goes ‘bear! Picture’. Figuring this was The Tourist Attraction in town (get a picture with this terrifying bear!), I agreed. He jumped out of the car, and approaches the man standing out front. My newest friend slipped him a few hundred rubbles and then motioned to follow him inside.
Cautiously, I followed him through the doorway and was met with a giant metal cage. He taped the bars gently and all of a sudden, a huge brown bear comes lacklusterly crawling around the cage.
Instantly feeling awful for inadvertently supporting a serious case of animal rights abuses, and feeling awful for the bear stuck in a small cage and being woken up and paraded around for the ‘enjoyment’ of tourists wanting to see a live hear, I mustered a ‘wow! Interesting’, stood for a quick picture, and then got out.
My driver grinned as though he’d showed me a real treasure, and while I was incredibly thankful to him for going out of the way, showing the poor tourist around, and wanting to show me the best of the area, it definitely put an interesting spin on my entry into the town.
Travel is full of interesting experiences. Sometimes, culture shock is not necessarily something that you wouldn’t see at home (afterall, bears are frequent in Canada, both in the wild and also, confined in zoos), but something that is just so differently presented, so unexpected. While part of being a tourist in these countries is actively searching out these new experiences, I strive to always be open to things that maybe wouldn’t be found or experienced in Canada.
Ignoring the less than ideal way that I had just contributed to the negative kind of tourism, I had to admit, it was incredibly kind of my cabbie to take me on an adventure, to make sure that I saw a Siberian bear, and to go out of his way to make my trip exciting. A few minutes later, he dropped me off at the hotel, insisting on carrying my bag into the lobby, and then presented me ceremoniously with his card, telling me that he would be happy to come back for me if I needed a return trip to Irkutsk.
And here we have the essence of the Russian people. People who go out of their way to be kind and welcoming to others. Russians are very ethnically diverse and in many parts of the country, I blended right in with the locals. If not for my backpack and obviously terrible Russian speaking, there would be no way to tell I was a tourist (and therefore, either someone to be extra kind to, or take advantage of!)
Whether it’s offering to help decipher language/train/directions or an invitation to a wedding (of a person I’d taken a picture of at a monument…), no matter how crazy the adventure ends up being, at least it will one day be a story to laugh about!
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