Aug 4 - MISERIES IN
MINSK
Before I came to Belarus, I was lucky to meet a Lithuanian, Virginius,
who drove me
across the country twice in one day!
It's not everyday that you get to cross an entire country by car in a
day. Twice.
He was going on a sales call by the Baltic Sea with his co-worker and
he let me join him
on the 8 hour round trip. While he did his call, I spent several hours
exploring the
magnificent sand dunes of the Croanian Spit on the west side of
Lithuania.
I left for Belarus the next day at 9AM.
THE CHARMING BORDER CROSSING
As I've mentioned, getting a visa to Belarus is no fun.
Getting across the border also sucks.
I left Vilnius in a packed bus of mostly old fat Belarussians. It was
very hot and humid.
There was no AC or deodorant on the bus.
We stopped at the ominous border and a couple of folks tried to get off
the bus to escape
the heat (and stench). The bus driver quickly barked at them to stay on
board.
Finally, 30 oppressive minutes later the border guard decides maybe he
should do his job
and collect the passports.
After another 30 minutes, the bus takes off, the assistant starts
handing back the
passports, and I figure we're good to go. But about 2 minutes later we
stop in the heat
as the assistant hands back the passport. I wonder, "Why do we have to
stop for him to
give the passports back?"
I got my answer in a few minutes when we drove up to another spot and
everyone got off to
get into another line to get our passports stamped. While we stood in
line a border guard
carefully inspected the bus to make sure there were no stowaways. Why
anyone would try to
sneak into Belarus is beyond me.
30 minutes later, we all got stamped a few times and everyone was
happy. Except the
border guards. They're never happy.
In summary, we spent 90 minutes dicking around at the border when the
other Baltic bus
border crossings had taken less than five minutes. This foreshadowed
the efficiency to
come. As we drove into Belarus, we passed an endless line of big rigs
waiting to leave
the country. I just shook my head in dismay.
DEFYING THE LAW OF SUPPLY AND DEMAND
With a per capita GDP of $6,000 (vs. $36,000+ for the USA), you would
think that hotels
in Minsk would be cheap. After all, the average Belarussian makes $100
bucks a month. If
I could stay in hostels for $10-20/night in places like Finland and
Ireland, Belarus
should be cheaper, right?
Wrong.
Welcome to communism. Yup, there are still some die hards out there who
believe this
crap.
Belarus is slowly introducing a few free market ideas to become more
cosmopolitan and
Westernized. So think of it as communism with a cappuccino.
PRICE CONTROLS
The cheapest hotel I could find said I had to pay 87,000 Roubles.
That's $40.
I peered over to their computer and asked what the 26,000 number meant.
"Oh, that's for
Belarussians."
I split. After several hours I finally found a cute apartment in
downtown for $30/night.
There are no government tourist agencies to help you out. And nobody
speaks English or
any other language besides Russian and Belarussian so it was hard to do
anything.
THE MOST USELESS LANGUAGE IN THE WORLD
What's wrong? Haven't heard any Belarussian?
Don't worry, neither have the Belarussians.
Although related to Russian, Belarussian a distinct language like
Portuguese is to
Spanish. It is taught in school and is the official language. I would
only hear Russian
all day, so I asked several locals:
"So, do you speak Belarussian when you go buy something?"
"No."
"How about when you talk to the government?"
"No."
"When you're hanging out at your house with your friends?"
"No."
"In business?"
"No."
"So when do you speak it?"
"In many classes in school."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
Dumbfounded, I confirmed and re-confirmed this fact several times. So
nobody in the world
speaks Belarussian, not even the Belarussians.
Imagine if they used all that energy and time to learn a more practical
language. They
might be able to help me when I'm lost.
MAP OF BELARUS
Where the hell is Belarus anyway?
I arrived in Minsk (the capital) and visited nearby Dudutki, Mir, and
Njasvizh. All these
places were interesting and I'm glad I saw them, but you're not missing
much.
Basically, the small towns had a few 13-16th century buildings that
were nice, but
decrepit.
Lots of smelly people in town too. This one guy sitting next to me on
another hot bus
somehow managed to hold onto the luggage rack over my head for 99% of
the 2.5 hour bus
ride. Having done rock climbing, I'm amazed he didn't get tired of
gripping something so
high for so long. But he did, and I had the joy of staring at and
smelling his armpit the
whole way.
WHO NEEDS A LAUNDROMAT ANYWAY?
That smelly bus ride reminded me that I needed to do laundry.
Unfortunately, the
Belarussian Government doesn't believe laundromats are necessary. So
they don't exist
anywhere.
I wasn't staying in a hotel (which will do your laundry), so I had to
give my clothes to
the company that rented me the apartment for a few days. They lost one
of my socks. My
clothes are disappearing fast.
PULSE DIAL
Although cell phones are popular, all the land line phones are still
pulse dial (not
touch tone). Static-filled connections and dropped calls on are common.
If you ever
wonder how telecommunications was 40 years ago, come here.
POLICE STATE
There are more cops per capita than any other European country. So it's
very safe. These
thugs, I mean law enforcers, are everywhere.
They can stop cars when they are on foot. Cars are zipping by at 40
miles an hour and all
a cop has to do is point at it and the driver will stop on a dime.
Routine checks are
common. I saw them everyday.
The "President" of Belarus, Alyaksandr Lukashenka, has stripped the
authority of the
parliament and made the entire government subservient to him. He plans
to change the
constitution so he can serve 12 years instead of 8. I didn't meet
anyone who likes the
jerk.
WHY LEE HARVEY OSWALD SHOT JFK
He lived in Minsk.
I saw his apartment. It was in a good location. But living in this
system of government
might drive me to shoot someone too.
THE GREAT PATRIOTIC WAR
Minsk has come back from the dead several times since it was born on
March 3, 1067.
It was frequently destroyed by fires throughout the centuries, sacked
by Crimean Tatars
in 1505, trampled to ruin by the French in 1812, and damaged by the
Germans in 1918 and
by the Poles in 1919-20. Its greatest suffering came in WWII, when half
the city's people
perished, including almost the entire population of 50,000 Jews.
Virtually every building
here has been erected since 1944, when Minsk's recapture by the Soviet
army left barely a
stone standing.
A whopping 25% of the country died in WWII, many executed in the 200+
concentration
camps. The guidebook says that the Museum for the Great Patriotic War
(what they call WW
II) "will leave your head spinning."
No kidding. The graphic images are overwhelming. Lots of people
(including women and
children) getting hung and shot. Several mutilated bodies of citizens
and soldiers. They
should include a barf bag with the admission.
WW II was a big deal throughout Eastern Europe because they bore the
brunt of the war's
devastation. They had most of the concentration camps. They had to deal
with the Nazis
storming in, the Soviets pushing them back, and then overstaying their
welcome.
MINSK TAKES A CULTURAL VACATION
My guidebook says, "Minsk has quite a lively cultural life." Here's
what I found:
* Circus was closed until Aug.
* Ballet closed till Sept.
* Philharmonic hall under reconstruction.
* Dance performances suspended until Nov.
In short, the city has 2 million people and nothing is going on.
CHILLING WITH 4 BELARUSSIANS IN MY APARTMENT
Wanting some entertainment, I invited 4 Belarussians who were hanging
out near my
apartment to come in. They stayed until 1:30AM and we had a great
cultural exchange. Only
one guy didn't speak English. Their main criticism against Americans is
that our
friendliness is sometimes fake. I've heard this comment many times.
We're all smiles, but
we don't mean it. So work on your frown.
GOV'T ENCOURAGES STUDENTS TO FAIL EXAMS
One Belarussian student told me that if you pass the final exams, the
government doesn't
let you go abroad. They are trying to prevent brain drain.
The student knew of 20 fellow classmates who were in the USA working.
They all failed
their exams. They are trying to stay in the US.
GOING TO GET SOME RADIATION
Almost 20 years ago, Ukraine's nuclear power plant in Chernobyl blew up
and dumped 70% of
its radioactive isotopes on Belarus.
Here in Minsk, most are no longer worried. However, I did meet one
hypochondriac who was
afraid of the "radioactive" rain and the "contaminated" food.
Here is a good map of what's still contaminated in Belarus.
In a couple of hours I'm catching a train that is going straight into
the nasty
southeastern part.
Dark colors on the map indicate lots of radiation, shitty water, and
glowing people
walking around with three arms.
This should be a hoot.
Aug 5 - Radiation Therapy in Belarus
Imagine if a nuclear power plant melted down in the UK and dropped its
fallout on 25% of
the country, poisoning all its touched for years.
Belarus is almost the size of the UK and that's exactly what happened
to it in 1986.
I'll describe what happened to me when I entered into the heart of the
Chernobyl disaster
area.
THIS JUST IN: ALCOHOL PREVENTS RADIATION DAMAGE
Back in Minsk, I spoke with a husky cop for 45 minutes. She told me
that her father had
gone to the Chernobyl immediately after the disaster. The government
told everyone that
alcohol protects you from the effects of radiation. Today, most people
I talked to
believe this.
This cop told me how the government forced her father to drink liquor.
She believes it's
because they didn't want him to remember anything.
It worked.
He doesn't remember much.
It does produce a funny scene. Imagine some cop, who can barely stand,
slurring, "Don't
worry, I'm here to save you from the radiation! Hic!"
Intrigued, I wanted to learn more.
ENTERING RADIATION LAND
About 20% of the forest and 250,000 hectares of land remain
contaminated. Although the
worst part is in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, areas around it aren't
exactly the Garden
of Eden.
My guidebook stopped short of saying, "DO NOT GO TO THE SOUTHEAST OF
BELARUS UNLESS YOU
ARE A COMPLETE FOOL. THERE IS NOTHING TO SEE AND YOU WILL GET AN
UNHEALTHY DOSE OF
RADIATION. YOU IDIOT."
So I booked a trip to Gomel, in the southeast of Belarus.
MEETING YURI
There was one guy in my train cabin named Yuri. Despite his broken
English, we talked for
most of the six hour journey.
I asked him, "So if I want to go to a really remote town in Belarus,
near the Chernobyl
Exclusion Zone, where would you recommend?"
"The town I live in: Dobrush," he answered. "But beware, the government
shut off the hot
water for one month to save money. They do that every summer. So your
hotel won't have
hot water."
"Perfect," I thought.
"Has an American ever visited your town?" I inquired.
Yuri answered, "No, I think you will be the first."
"Excellent."
Yuri's dad picked us up and took us on the 30 minute drive to Dobrush.
He dropped me off
in front of the town's only hotel and wished me good luck. Yuri was
leaving leaving to
Moscow the next morning, so I needed a lot of luck.
STRANGE PRIORITIES: EXAMPLE #1
My hotel had a TV and a refrigerator, but hot water or no toilet paper.
Strange
priorities.
Granted the TV barely got two channels and the refrigerator kept my
food at just about 2
degrees below room temperature, but still.
For almost $20 a night, I figured they would spring for some TP.
STRANGE PRIORITIES: EXAMPLE #2
The government sells goods to the local state owned enterprises. They
allow these
monopolies to mark up everything from 0-30%. So of course, being a good
little monopoly,
the state owned enterprise marks up everything up 30%.
However, the government has a few exceptions which can only be marked
up a small amount
because they are "essential" products. The short list includes:
- Bread
- Bottled Water
- Milk
- Vodka
Now you know the priorities in Belarus.
Vodka is more important than toilet paper here.
MEETING THE LOCALS
Dobrush, which means "kind" and "good", is a small town of a few
thousand people.
Although I met probably over 100 people (including store clerks and
random people on
street), I only found one person who spoke English, albeit barely. Her
name was Irina,
and this kind and good woman soon introduced me to her friends and
family.
A RUSSIAN BATH
Dimitri, one of Irina's friends, invited me to have a Russian bath with
him. I agreed,
not knowing what I was getting myself into. Dimitri, let's just call
him Dante, didn't
speak any English so he couldn't explain anyway.
The term Russian Bath is misleading. It's more like a Belarussian
Sauna. Or in my case: a
Belarussian Inferno with a Plant Beating.
Detached from his family's house is a small bath house. I entered
inside and I felt like
I was in the sauna. Dante told me to strip. I did.
Then he told me to follow him into another room.
"But I thought we were in the sauna..." I mumbled.
The temperature in the next room was much hotter than the first. I was
sweating within
seconds. After doing a couple of things, Dante told me to go into yet
another room. This
is when I walked into hell.
I am not sure what temperature it was, but I'm sure that even Satan
would be toasty.
Dante told me to lay my naked body on the bench. I laid on my stomach.
The bench scorched
my body. Sweat pourred down my brow as if I was running a marathon in
the Amazon jungle.
Dante brought out this bushy plant with many leaves on it. Holding it
in his hand, he
started running it all over my body. Occasionally he would whip me
with it.
After several tense minutes, he told me that we could take a break from
Hades.
We cooled off outside for a couple of minutes and then returned to the
inferno. He told
me to lie down again. I did. Now flip over, on my back. I did. He
brought out that
hell-spawned plant again.
I winced.
The naked Dante looked down on me with the big bushy plant in his
sweaty hand. He had a
malevolent stare, but that could have simply been an illusion in my
heat-stroked state.
I closed my eyes and started asking the Lord Jesus for forgiveness. I
asked Muhammad too.
And the Buddha.
He ran the plant all over my front side. Gave me a few good whacks.
Fortunately, not there.
I couldn't help but wonder, "What the hell am I doing here?"
After an eternity, he stopped and I emerged from hell.
Clearly, I was now a better man.
PORN IN BELARUS
After the Russian Bath I had a small meal at 2AM with Dante's family
and friends. The TV
was in the background. Suddenly, I heard English! I was so excited I
turned to the TV. A
sexy woman was walking across a scene straight out of "Mad Max." Except
Mel Gibson wasn't
there.
From the narrator's voice, I could tell this wasn't just some B movie.
This was an X
rated movie.
I warned my hosts that we were about to see some porn. They shrugged.
It didn't take long
for the movie to "get into it."
This made for another bizarre scene. There I was, enjoying a fine
Belarussian meal,
listening to everyone speak Russian, and glancing at some hardcore porn
in the
background.
WHO WANTS A MILLION RUBLES?
After 10 minutes they finally got tired of the moaning in the
background and switched to
the Russian version of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?"
It's the same show except Regis doesn't host it and the grand prize is
a million rubles,
not a dollars. That works out to about $25,000. But with monthly wages
averaging
$100/month, you'd feel like a millionaire if you got that.
FEELING LIKE AN ALIEN
The American government calls foreigners "aliens." I've always felt
that was a derogatory
description. However, in my case, it was accurate.
I got double and triple takes whenever I opened my mouth in stores or
public places. Kids
stared at me. Even Lenin's statue on the Dobrush square seemed to look
me over.
Irina recognizes 50% of the people she passes in town. The day after we
met she told me
that some random people she barely knew were asking her if it was true
that an American
was in town.
As fast as gossip spreads, I was dumbfounded that it took so long for
this community to
find out what really happened the day the Chernobyl nuclear reactor
melted down.
1984 in 1986
George Orwell's "1984" describes a government that covers up the truth.
In 1986 the
government of Belarus (with orders from Moscow) waited over a week
before admitting that
they had a little problem.
But they couldn't completely cover everything from those who were in
the middle of the
disaster area. After all, things weren't quite exactly normal that day.
MEMORIES OF A NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST
All the older locals I talked with remember that April day was
scorchingly hot. The
temperature was not normal at all. The sky was an eerie dark color.
Nobody had any clue
that they were being doused with radiation.
Irina was a little girl when she witnessed the cataclysm. She said, "I
remember a
violent, horrible wind, unlike any I've ever felt. I knew something was
wrong, but I
didn't understand what was happening."
Strangely, five years after the horror the middle aged folks fared the
worst. According
to the locals, those over 60 and under 30 have fared better. However,
rates of thyroid
cancers among women in Belarus have increased 12-fold in the years
since 1986.
Today the locals blame nearly all their aliments on Chernobyl. Having
bad joints and high
blood pressure is pretty common for anyone over 60, but here they
attribute it to
Chernobyl. Unfortunately, since the government represses most of the
little information
it gathers, we may never know the full long term affects of Chernobyl.
INTO THE CHERNOBYL EXCLUSION ZONE
Mikhail, Dante's father, offered to drive me into the Chernobyl
Exclusion Zone. The
military guards all entrances and foreigners are not permitted. Mikhail
was taking a big
risk in trying to sneak me in.
As we approached the checkpoint, Mikhail told me not to open my mouth.
He will tell the
guard that we're visiting relatives who still live in the Zone. Since
he lives just 30
miles from the Zone, it's a believable story. The guard took Mikhail's
documents. Then he
looked at me.
I stopped breathing.
The guard barked out a question in Russian.
I had no clue what he said.
Luckily, Mikhail did. He answered.
The guard waved us through.
The gate opened and I breathed a deep sigh of relief, and some
radioactive air.
RADIATION THERAPY
We entered the Exclusion Zone: the most radioactively and chemically
contaminated area in
the world.
The funny thing is that it doesn't look so bad. Abandoned buildings
with broken windows
and weeds overtaking them dominate the scenery. There's lots of
vegetation, although some
of it is mutated if you look closely. No joke.
Mikhail showed me his father's old house that had a small farm in the
back. The plants
were bearing fruit. I ate some radioactive apples. No kidding. Hey,
they were free.
It's just like a ghost town, except a few loonies actually live here. I
saw some old
ladies sitting outside their little shacks. With no electricity,
police, stores, or
government services, these survivors tenaciously cling to their homes,
because that is
all they have.
FORGET ABOUT IT
Although only a couple of dozen or so live in the Exclusion Zone, 2
million Belarussians
still live in the hardest hit areas. Why don't they just move?
Did I mention this country is communist?
The labor market is not liquid. The government gives you a job and a
house. You move,
good luck finding a job and a house. Besides, who are you going to sell
your radioactive
house to?
Mikhail said the government relocated a few people "just for show."
They were probably
the folks who were glowing in the dark.
There are some vital industries in the entire Homel region, and the
government didn't
want to abandon all that production and relocate 2 million people.
Today the government is downplaying the dangers in living in these
areas. They are
encouraging resettlement and are cutting benefits to those who suffered
from the
accident.
You
can learn more about the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.
ONTO POLAND
On my way out of Belarus I stopped at the border town of Brest, which
has the best Soviet
WW II memorial in the world.
Although part of me was relieved to leave Belarus, there was a part of
me that was a bit
sad. Its resilient yet friendly people were good to me, even if they
didn't always smile
at first.
Now I re-enter the world of capitalism and tourists. Poland should be
fun and so I'll
leave you with a Polish joke:
An American is walking down the street when he sees a
Polish guy
with a very long pole and a yardstick. He's standing the pole on its
end and trying to reach the top of it with his yardstick. Seeing the
guy's ignorance, the American wrenches the pole
out of his hand, lays it on the sidewalk, measures it with the
yardstick, and says, "There! 10 feet long." The Polish guy grabs the
yardstick and shouts, "You idiot American!
I don't care how long it is! I want to know how high it is!"
NEXT STOP: A PROMENADE IN POLAND |
After spending all day trying to get into Belarus and find a place to
stay that wasn't a dump and/or a rip off, I finally settled on a cozy
apartment right in the center of Minsk. The price was right, the
location was perfect, and the water was hot.
One of my favorite Eastern European innovations. Normally we wash dishes
and put them on a dish rack to dry, then we put it in the cabinet. Here
in Minsk the dish rack is built into the cabinet. The wet dishes just
drip onto the sink, so you save a step! Genius!
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