Russian Post 5: Bicycles: Transportation or Deathtraps?

Well, today not only represents Independence Day (Down with the British! Bring out your tea!!) but also it has been one full month since Caleb and I have arrived in Krasnodar.  

Well, probably the biggest of my adventures I can relate in Krasnodar (since Mt. Fisht) was taking my life into my own hands by venturing out on the streets of Krasnodar on a bicycle. That’s right folks, Kolya (A Russian friend of ours), Caleb, and yours truly took to the streets astride bikes. :-O.

For those of you who know me well, you will know that bikes and myself have less than an amicable relationship. In fact, I could say we pretty much hated each other. It’s kinda like having an evil ex-girlfriend that you can’t stand to be with but whom all your best friends hang out with all the time. But I stray from the point. For the first time in probably 3 years, I hopped on a bike and decided that I would face my past and DO THIS!

The resulting ride played out something similar to the plotline of one of the Final Destination horror flicks. Ever heard of Murphy’s Law? Yeah…

At first, just to get my guard down, the ride went smoothly; we were weaving our way through the traffic I have covered in a previous post, and the swarming horde of pedestrians that I am determined to dedicate a future post to. I actually succeeded in jumping a few curbs, which is quite a feat for me on a bike (please, hold your applause…stay seated, please…). Then, just as we got to just about the OTHER SIDE OF TOWN, it happened. For those among you who may not be well-versed in bike paraphernalia, the pedals (that’s those things you press your feet against to make it go) are supposed to remain firmly attached to the bike. Mine… didn’t. SOMEHOW, someway, the right pedal came unscrewed from bike and fell off. This is a bad turn of events. Fortunately, I was not around people at the time this happened. But I did lay my bike over mid-pedal, which was not a fun experience. But after finding a helpful Russian (another miracle) who loaned us a wrench and reattaching the pedal (quite firmly), we were on our way once again, with ignorant me thinking that the quip was “the thing that would go wrong for the day” and I could relax and enjoy the ride home.

I was wrong.

I WILL make a quick (and brief) comment about pedestrians now (to be expanded later). They’re CRAZY! Russia has crosswalks, same as anybody else, but apparently babushkas and stariki (translation: Old ladies and old men) think that they’ve lived so long, they can cross the street anywhere they FEEL like, and they can take forever to do it.

I digress.

This elderly lady then crosses the street in front of me… and calmly, I turn the handles of my bike to perform a standard “go around the pedestrian” maneuver. My handles turned, but my wheel didn’t….

:-/

Apparently the screw that affixes the handles to the wheel had come loose, and I could now turn the handlebars completely around, without so much as moving the front wheel… And now I am barreling down the street headed for an old lady.

Desperate, I reached into my Bag-O-LifeSaving Tricks and concocted a brilliant getaway plan: I threw my weight to one side, sending the bike crashing to the ground, with myself still firmly planted in the driver’s seat. (Word to the Wise: The designer that decided that the seat of a bicycle needs to be that skinny needs to be drawn and quartered. When your gluteus maximus slams on that thing hard enough… it can lead to major pain in posterior regions. Just sayin’.)  Now I have successfully avoided the elderly lady (who incidently, kept on walking; I’m not 100% sure she was even aware that I crashed my bike directly behind her) INTO the SIDE WALL of a building.

For those that doubted before, I CAN actually hit the broadside of barn. With my face.

We succeeded in jury-rigging the handlebars (with American Boy Scout skills) and made it safely home without further incident (like any more was needed).

I’ve decided that my obituary will almost inevitably read, “Traveled the World. Braved Many Dangers. Had Many Adventures. Killed by Bicycle.”

Do Svidaniya, my friends! And Happy Independence DAY!!!

Russia Post 3: Hay!

Well, the last two days were spent in the Russian countryside in a little village of Ahktyrskiy, to the west of Krasnodar. A friend of Steve's named Tim came over from Maine along with a friend of his named Albert. Caleb and I met them in Krasnodar and they are a pretty cool couple of guys. So he told us he was headed out to the countryside to help a good friend of his (Tim used to be a missionary over here) who runs a drug and alcohol rehab center in the middle of EastNOwhere, Russia. He invited us to come along, and we accepted!

Well, the trip was about 2 1/2 hours of beautiful countryside. Beautiful and bountiful fields of wheat, corn, rice, all bursting at the seams. Then we hit this patch of bare ground.... it was bare for a couple of square miles. When I asked Tim about it, he said, "Oh, this is where the Soviet government back in the 50's spread nuclear waste on the ground in an experiment to see what would survive a nuclear blast." Oh. Btw, the answer is NOTHING, for those of you who are wondering....

So we get to Ahktyrskiy and we met Sasha, once an oil businessman who was converted to Christianity and was deeply burdened with the glaring need of rampant alcoholism in Russia. So he began a ministry, taking in addicts and letting them work on his vegetable farm, which he has recently expanded to include 350 head of sheep and dozen cattle, along with pigs, chickens, and ducks. The house the guys are living in is a cheap home-made brick covered with plaster and roofed with solid asbestos (oh, you think i'm kidding?). So what we did while we were down there is help expand the living quarters of the house by roofing an extra room that they had already built (there is about 12-15 guys living there at the moment). While some of us (Caleb and Alby) got busy on the roof, the rest of us (namely me and Tim) headed out to the fields to bring in the hay. Oh boy!
The hay was round bales about 5 1/2 feet tall and weighing anywhere from 300-500lbs apiece. Mode of transport: 3 guys roll them up a ramp onto a trailer by hand. The tractor used to pull the trailer is a 1977 Soviet collective model that has been taken apart and rebuilt so many times that I (noted mechanic that i am...not) can't even recognize the different parts of the engine. It was jerry-rigged by the mechanic at the shelter to PULL start: imagine starting your lawnmower or weedeater... now blow that up to the size of a tractor.... yeah, you got the idea... So we load these things, and the guy turns to me and asks (through Tim, my russian is still horrible), "Have you ever done this sort of thing before?"
So I sat back and thought, "Well, I'm working out in the middle of the countryside, in 90 degree weather, loading hay onto a trailer with a cooler of water in the nearby jeep."
Welcome to Texas, buddy. I felt right at home.
For those of you who know me, I have never been that much of a tea drinker, but in the past two days, I have consumed about 3 gallons of hot tea that for some reason Russians find a good idea to serve on hot days as a refreshment... I was tempted to ask them to put it in a cup of ice just to see their reaction...
The food has also been an adventure. We were introduced to the Russian plate of borscht, a dish that is basically meat and potatoes and vegetables in soup base. Rabbit kidney I think was a classic. I loved it, but others in our group were kinda weirded out... (I would mention names, but Caleb would be embarrassed).
So we are back in Krasnodar now meeting up with Steve, who has just returned from the US of A. The past few days have been an adventure and it looks like the next few days won't disappoint...
Do Svidanya, my friends.